In the same instant, the world in front of him was no longer black, but filled with grayish light. Meng Hao could clearly tell that just now, his body had been affected by a teleportation spell.

The teleportation had moved him somewhere, although he wasn’t sure exactly where.

When things became clear, Meng Hao looked around. Immediately, his brow furrowed.

He saw an ancient wall, which was flecked with spots of blood that had been there for who knew how many years. Looking overhead, it seemed as if the wall stretched up into the Heavens themselves. Apparently, it was endlessly high.

There wasn’t just one wall, but two, forming a corridor. Meng Hao’s eyes flickered. He didn’t go forward down the corridor, but rather, flew straight into the air.

He shot upward for a while. However, even after focusing the power of his Cultivation base into his eyes, he still was incapable of seeing the tops of the walls.

“They have no end….” he thought, slowly floating back down. He didn’t land onto the ground, but rather floated there in mid-air.

This place had a stifling air; it seemed that there were only two paths to pick from, either forward, or backward.

Meng Hao thought of the other Cultivators who had touched the corpse, and of the things they had talked about. Upon returning, each had described different scenes. One saw mountains, another a river. One saw buildings, another, Celestial scenes. One even saw a battlefield.

Meng Hao thoughtfully lifted his hand into the air, and then struck out seven or eight times. A roaring filled the air as a black-colored palm appeared that looked as if it were formed from roiling mist. It shot forward toward one of the walls.

Considering its incredible speed, it only took a moment before it slammed into the wall. No sound could be heard; it was like the palm had been sucked in by the wall. There wasn’t even the tiniest mark left now.

Meng Hao’s face sank.

Just now, he had only attacked with fifty percent power. However, considering he was of the full circle of Foundation Establishment, he could easily smash a wall into powder. However, this wall didn’t even tremble.

After a moment’s thought, Meng Hao set his jaw. Eyes glittering, he shot forward. If he could’t fly up, and the walls were unbreakable, then he might as well go forward.

He whistled through the air at top speed, heading forward. Before he got too far, the two walls on either side of him began to grow wider apart. The area in front of him grew larger, and another wall appeared, causing the path to split into two.

When he saw the path split ahead of him, realization flickered in his eyes.

“A maze….”

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the maze, Li Daoyi shot forward, grim faced, as did Zhou Jie, w.a.n.g Lihai, Xu Qing, Han Bei and the others. All of them were inside the maze.

So was the young man from the Ji Clan as well as the girl surnamed Fang. All of them were in different areas of this huge maze.

So far, no one had encountered any of the others, which made everyone come to the conclusion that they were alone inside.

In the past, whoever had returned after touching the Immortal’s corpse, described being teleported to different places. Never had there been a repet.i.tion.

Days pa.s.sed. Meng Hao’s expression was calm. He had encountered many junctions in the path, and never once did he hesitate. He would pick a road and proceed forward without thinking too much about it.

“Considering you called me here, well… I’m not going to go looking for you. You’ll show up eventually.” He flew along calmly for several days. One day, a five-path junction appeared up ahead of him. Meng Hao glanced it over, and was about to pick the center path, when suddenly his eyes flickered, and he retreated backward.

At the same time, he lifted his right hand, quickly slicing his index finger as he shot back, and then waved it toward the intersection.

Even as he moved backward, a black streak like lightning shot toward him through the air. If he hadn’t retreated just now, he definitely would have been seriously injured.

Instead, his finger attack just now erupted with billowing killing Blood Qi. It slammed into the incoming black streak.

An explosion filled the air. As it rang out, Meng Hao’s face grew grim, and killing intent flickered within his eyes. He fell back three more paces and then came to a stop. He lifted his hand again, and as he did, Violet Qi swirled around his body. The Qi flowed toward his hand, transforming into a long, violet-colored blade.

Suddenly, he moved forward without hesitation, and as he did, he waved his hand ahead in a chopping motion.

A rumble filled the air as a flash of violet light slashed out from his hand, transforming midair into a curved, three meter long arc. Wisps of Violet Qi continued to emanate out from Meng Hao, melding into the curved shape.

This was… the Violet Qi Guillotine! [1. Meng Hao learned the Violet Qi Guillotine way back in chapter 242]

Filled with the power of a Perfect Foundation, ten Dao Pillars and Violet Qi from the East, this was a deadly magical attack.

The Violet Qi Guillotine looked like a crescent moon as it shot through the air toward the intersection. As it entered the crossroads, the air distorted around it, rippling. The emptiness twisted, making what had seemed like a void before look as if it were covered with a veil that was now being lifted up. Suddenly, a figure became visible.

It was a middle-aged man. He was more than three heads taller than Meng Hao, and incredibly muscular. He wore a simple garment, and visible on his skin was a depiction of a three-headed flood dragon totem!

This was a Cultivator from the Western Desert!!

Now that he had been revealed, he suddenly lifted his right arm and opened his mouth with a shout. A black glow emerged from his forehead. The totem covering his body began to glow with a black aura, and in front of him, an incredibly realistic image of a three-headed flood dragon appeared. Roaring, it shot forward and tore into the Violet Qi Guillotine.

A boom filled the air, rocking everything. Meng Hao watched as the Violet Qi Guillotine began to disintegrate, transforming into wisps of Violet Qi that dissipated into the air. At the same time, the three-headed flood dragon also began to break up into pieces. The Western Desert Cultivator’s face was unsightly as he stared in shock at Meng Hao.

Meng Hao gave a cold snort, lifting his hand and waving it forward.

“Violet Qi Garrote!” As he waved his hand, the Violet Qi in the area suddenly stilled. Then it began to twist, extending, transforming into countless threads that circled around the Western Desert Cultivator. It rapidly surrounded him, emitting sharp whistling sounds. Suddenly, Meng Hao clenched his hand into a fist, and the strands of Violet Qi contracted.

This technique was something Meng Hao had learned after becoming a Violet Furnace Lord. This was the second form of the Violet Qi Guillotine, a technique from the Violet Qi Division. In addition to this second form, there was a third form called Violet Gibbous Moon!

The Western Desert Cultivator’s face was dark as the Violet Qi Garrote closed in around him. He gave a cold harrumph, then began to lift his right arm, upon the back of which suddenly appeared a totem.

This totem was simple; it was a red fist, about the size of an infant’s hand. However, in the blink of an eye, a roaring power exploded out from the body of the Western Desert Cultivator.

The hand of his upraised arm clenched into a fist and punched downward.

The fist hit nothing but air, but as it did, layers of ripples surged out. The piercing shriek of an infant could be heard, and as it echoed out, the ripples slammed into the surrounding Violet Qi. Immediately, the Violet Qi began to disintegrate.

The face of the Western Desert Cultivator was pale. Blood oozed out of the corners of his mouth. He looked toward Meng Hao with fear in his eyes.

“You’re an alchemist from the Southern Domain’s Violet Fate Sect,” he said, retreating backward. “I never imagined that you would have a Cultivation base such as this. Sir, I was rash just now. I’ll take my leave.” A third totem appeared on his left arm, but it appeared to be only half completed, not a full totem. The Cultivator’s body began to grow blurry, as if he would disappear into the air.

“A bit rash?” said Meng Hao, his eyes glittering with killing intent. If he hadn’t dodged at just the right time, he would have been beheaded. Even as the words left his mouth, he shot forward.

“You Southern Domain Cultivators really don’t know when to give up!” said the Western Desert Cultivator with a cold snort. “It’s obvious that we’re both in the Pseudo Core stage. You used full power just now! Clearly we’re an even match!” Ferocity suddenly filled his face.

His expression had changed because as Meng Hao advanced, he began to rotate his Cultivation base, causing power to explode out. This power was even greater than that from before, causing everything in the area to shake.

Meng Hao lifted up his right hand and extended three fingers!

A shocking three fingered Blood Palm appeared. It transformed into a murderous Blood Qi which shot toward the Western Desert Cultivator.

“Live through this three finger strike and you can leave!”

The face of the Western Desert Cultivator flickered, filling with astonishment. The blurriness surrounding his body instantly disappeared; he couldn’t possibly maintain his invisibility. He lifted his hand and tapped his forehead; the three-headed flood dragon totem, as well as the blood-colored fist totem, both appeared and shot forward.

Meng Hao’s three-fingered blood palm slammed into them.

The resulting ma.s.sive boom echoed out in all directions. The Western Desert Cultivator let out a blood-curdling scream. His body shook as the fist totem shattered. Blood sprayed from his mouth as the three-headed flood dragon totem disintegrated. He retreated backward several paces, his face pale. Before he could say a single word, a single Blood Finger slammed into his forehead.

A tremor ran through his body, and he toppled to the ground, dead.

Meng Hao approached. He looked down at the dead Western Desert Cultivator, whose name he didn’t even know. He knelt down next to the body and fished out a bag of holding. His eyes shone with thoughtfulness.

“So, it seems I’m not alone in this place…. These Western Desert Cultivators have some strange techniques. They’re as different from those of the Southern Domain as black is from white…. If not, a single Blood Finger would have been sufficient to slay a Pseudo Core Cultivator.” Giving a final glance to the Western Desert Cultivator, he noticed that the totem on the man’s arms were fading and transforming into black ink.

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This chapter was sponsored by Oliver Dearnley, Lim Derek, and Daniel Nunez