Elsewhere, the overlapping worlds disintegrated, and the cultivators who had been sent into different world planes were soon gathered in one place.
At that moment, a cultivator stood beside a river steeped in the aura of death. A stone bridge stretched across it to the far shore, and beyond the bridge stood an enormous stone stele depicting a Nine Nether Mastiff.
One of its dragon heads spewed forth the Yellow Springs, with countless ghosts and skeletons surrounding it. Ghost soldiers marched through, and vicious ghosts reaped souls, portraying scenes of the Yellow Springs and the Netherworld. This sight was not unfamiliar to the Immortal Domain.
"It's the Yellow Springs True Scripture! The Yellow Springs Ghost Spirit Clan's inheritance is here!" the cultivator exclaimed in delighted surprise.
He was a god-level cultivator, standing on the banks of the Yellow Springs River and facing a stone stele.
He had been captured by a horde of ghosts and thought his life was over. He had never expected those ghosts and skeletons to carry him here!
Could I really be a genius? Did the inheritance here choose me? He could not help pondering the question.
Those undead skeletons and ghosts had originally guarded their own territories, not giving outsiders so much as a glance unless they intruded. Yet they had suddenly swarmed him, locking him down in a tangle of bodies, and carried him here before all plunging into the Yellow Springs beside him.
Anyone would have had to seriously consider whether they had stumbled upon a fortuitous encounter. If he was lucky and really had encountered some supreme inheritance that acknowledged him, he could immediately obtain a divine art, rise to prominence, command the winds and clouds, and claim a place among the Immortal Domain's younger generation!
After all, the complete Yellow Springs