This made no sense at all.
Zhou Xuan's face turned bitter as he tried to explain.
But when the words reached his lips, he suddenly didn't know where to begin.
He could only force out, "Martial Uncle, Great Tang... it's different."
"Different?"
The old man smiled wryly and shook his head. "However different it is, could it possibly compare to the orthodox Grotto-Heavens...?"
"Uh... anyway, you can't judge it by ordinary standards..."
Just as Zhou Xuan racked his brains—
RUMBLE—!!!
A tremendous, muffled roar rolled in from the horizon without warning.
The ground beneath their feet began to tremble. Dust fell from the ceiling of the great hall, and several enormous pill furnaces rang and rattled from the shaking, as if they might explode at any moment.
Thud! Thud!
Inside the great hall, the Pill Slaves, already drained of spirit, couldn't even stay on their feet beneath that oppressive might. They dropped to their knees across the floor like dumplings falling into a pot.
"This... this is..."
The old man at the head of the group abruptly narrowed his pupils, his eyes filled with terror.
Though he had been imprisoned on Spirit Mountain and hadn't seen the outside world in a long time, and had even forgotten much about cultivation... his breadth of knowledge remained.
An aura this cataclysmic could never belong to an ordinary Tower-Ascending Realm cultivator.
It had to be the Great Demon Emperors deep within Spirit Mountain.
"It's over... it's over..."
A timid disciple collapsed onto the floor, his face ashen as he muttered to himself, "The Demon Emperors must have noticed the disturbance here... We're all going to die... We're all going to die without even a burial place..."
At his words,
everyone's spirits sank to the bottom.
The tiny spark of hope that had just