The roars of the eight old men still rang behind his ears, the sound waves shaking the clouds to pieces.
Shi Hou dug at his ear, then dropped like a black meteor, plunging out of the clouds.
The wind howled.
"Boom!"
His feet hit the ground, blasting out a crater thirty feet deep.
Brushing away the dust, Shi Hou surveyed his surroundings.
Ahead, the lush mountain forest ended abruptly, giving way to the withered yellow Gobi.
Loose stones, yellow sand-not a blade of grass grew there.
It formed a painfully stark boundary with the vibrant spiritual grounds of the Heaven Mending Pavilion behind him. He could even see wisps of green vitality slowly flowing from the surrounding trees toward the center of the Gobi.
"This place..."
Shi Hou rubbed his chin, rummaging through his memories of the Heaven Mending Pavilion.
The Old Vine?! The Heaven Mending Pavilion's Sacrificial Spirit.
Rumor had it that this Old Vine had lived for endless ages and once walked alongside gods. Now, in the twilight of its life, its blood qi had dried up, and it could only cling to its final breath by plundering the vitality of the surrounding world. Any living creature that approached would be sucked into a desiccated corpse by that tyrannical plundering force.
"Squeak, squeak!" Furball poked its head out of his collar. One glance at the Gobi made its golden fur stand on end.
It sensed a mortal threat-the frenzied suction of a higher-order life-form on the brink of death.
Kang, perched on his right shoulder, was even more straightforward. Its eyes rolled back, its front trotters clamped over its pig snout, and it played dead.
"Useless."
Shi Hou curled his lip and stuffed the two cowards into the Black Pot Space.
He took a step forward, entering the