Its form was like a mountain, boundlessly immense.
Its cry was like thunder, splitting courage and terrifying souls.
Its presence was vast and muddled, with ten thousand ghosts howling.
The shadows twisted.
It drifted slowly overhead, above Li Su.
Within them, countless vicious ghosts and resentful souls tangled and danced, while black-red waves of baleful resentment surged, warping the air.
It stretched across a thousand miles, blotting out the sky and sun.
From its appearance to its departure, a full two hours passed.
Even after it had vanished completely, leaving neither trace nor sound, Li Su remained unable to recover for a long while. Not only his body—his very soul seemed frozen stiff, and even his thoughts had been paralyzed.
So-called cultivation arts, divine abilities, realms, and cultivation levels were nothing but a joke before that thing, not worth mentioning.
Only after a long, long time did Li Su finally break free of that paralysis.
He could not help drawing a breath, only to feel cold through body and mind, his hands and feet ice-cold. His face, already somewhat pale from the injuries caused by the origin crystal, was now utterly bloodless.
What was that?
It could not be described. It was beyond description.
A living creature?
It did not seem like one.
A dead object?
That was not right either!
Its very existence was an enormous distortion, like a flawed program, a bug in the system.
Unable to stop himself, Li Su thought back on it, and the more he recalled, the more his scalp tingled. Its passing had forcibly affected the rules of heaven and earth around them, the very principles by which they operated.
"Leave this place."
"This place is not fit for a Golden Core cultivator to remain. And such things are even less fit to