The large group of Han River Sect disciples descended with killing rage and taunting laughter. Eyes beaming with viciousness, they neared the over one hundred Cultivators who were running around on the ground.

"Children, don't look! Ignore them!" cried the parrot as it flew back and forth in the air. The clinking of the bell on its foot could also be heard ringing out. "Come come. Join me in your loudest voice…."

The more than one hundred Cultivators once again joined voices to call out loudly. The Cultivators who had been pursuing Meng Hao all the way from Dongluo City grew closer. However, as they neared, their expressions flickered as they felt a wind picking up.

The wind brushed against their faces, rippling their clothes, blowing against their hair. It even began to push their bodies about. The charging Cultivators were gradually forced to stop. Their clothes whipped violently, their hair was in disarray, and their expressions were gradually changing to that of shock.

A vortex of slowly moving wind began to spread out from beneath the feet of the running Cultivators. As it extended outward it pushed back against the incoming Cultivators, blocking them. In an instant, it changed from a gentle breeze into a screaming gale force wind.

The screaming of the wind was shocking, and it mixed with the cries of the Cultivators inside to form a power that seemed as if it could rend the very Heavens. The Cultivators from Dongluo City retreated in astonishment. Some were too slow, and were caught up by the cyclone of wind. Blood sprayed from their mouths, and even their organs were broken into pieces.

A dozen of the Cultivators who had weak Cultivation bases suddenly began to scream. Their miserable cries drifted along with the wind, piercing the ears of the onlookers. People watched on in horror as the clothing of their dozen compatriots was ripped to shreds. Their hair turned gray, and their skin was slowly peeled off of their bodies as if they were being punished with death by a thousand cuts. Blood and flesh flew about within the screaming wind. In the blink of an eye…

The skin and muscle of the dozen Cultivators were completely flayed off of their bodies, turning them into skeletons. Cracking sounds could then be heard as the skeletons were smashed into pieces and then disappeared into the wind.

This scene caused the pursuing Cultivators' scalps to grow numb. Their faces shone with intense horror and disbelief. Their breathing came in ragged pants as they hurriedly backed up. No one dared to proceed forward, and complete silence filled the air, with the exception of… the cries of the wind and… the voices of the running Cultivators, joined together and melded into the wind.

"Have faith in the Lord Fifth… gain eternal life…."

During this moment of relative silence, Patriarch Rubicund gave a cold snort. From behind him walked out a Cultivator of the mid Core Formation stage. Another mid Core Formation Cultivator appeared at the side of Patriarch Pockmarks, his jaw clenched.

A third mid Core Formation Cultivator appeared along with a Patriarch who was obviously from the third of the three great Sects. This man was tall and well-built. After he stepped forward, the three Core Formation Cultivators turned into beams of prismatic light that shot forward.

They appeared intent on piercing through the massive, foggy whirlwind to destroy the more than one hundred Cultivators within.

However, as soon as they neared the wind, their faces changed immediately. They emitted howls as Core Qi appeared above their heads, taking various forms as they charged into the foggy wind.

They had advanced nearly half way to the hundred or more Cultivators, and were roughly thirty meters away from them when, suddenly, a gigantic, phantom figure appeared within the whirlwind.

It was formed from wind itself, and was no less than thirty meters tall. Its facial features were indistinct; the only thing visible was its strapping frame and the illusory clothes which rippled on its body. As the phantom appeared, it was running and emitting an indistinct howling sound. It seemed to have not even noticed the three incoming Cultivators.

The killing intent of the three men flickered as they performed incantation gestures. Core Qi exploded outward, transforming one into a stretch of sandy soil, another into a vast array of flying swords, and the third into a painting of mountains and rivers. The Core Qi enveloped the area, sweeping directly toward the gigantic phantom.

"Shatter!" cried the three men, their voices cold.

However, their Core Qi passed directly through the giant phantom, as if it were completely illusory.

This caused the three men to gape in astonishment. The next thing that happened was that the phantom turned and barreled directly toward them.

The phantom was supposedly illusory, and yet it caused the bodies of these three men to tremble violently. Their faces turned ashen, and they coughed up mouthfuls of blood. Looking astonished, they were about to retreat when they suddenly saw a second, a third, a fourth… and in an instant TEN giant phantoms had appeared within the wind. All of them charged forward toward the three men, who immediately began to retreat.

The Core Formation Cultivator from the Han River Sect was a bit slower than the others. Before he could retreat more than a few paces, one of the phantoms was upon him. Eyes filled with viciousness, the Core Formation Cultivator bit down on the tip of his tongue and spit out a mouthful of blood out into the air. He passed his hands through it, created a blood-colored mark.

He pushed against the blood-colored mark, causing it to ignite and then transform into a massive blood-colored skull. With a roar of rage, it shot toward the approaching phantom. Instead of slamming into each other, the blood-colored skull passed directly through the phantom, and then flew past it through eight more phantoms before finally dissipating.

A look of despair appeared on the face of the Han River Sect Cultivator as the first phantom slammed into him. Blood sprayed from his mouth and he let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Patriarch, save me…." he cried in a voice filled with fear and dread. Patriarch Pockmarks' face fell. He was about to charge forward to save the man, when his eyes narrowed. Suddenly, he felt as if he didn't dare to charge forward, and instead retreated.

The reason for this was that he suddenly caught sight of dozens of phantoms approaching at high speed within the wind. Their approach shook the ground, as if giants were trampling the earth. Howls mixed with bloodcurdling shrieks as the Han River Sect Core Formation Cultivator was trampled to death in a bloody pulp.

This scene caused the hearts of all of the outside Cultivators to begin to pound, regardless of the level of their Cultivation base. The foggy wind was growing more and more blurry; as for their expressions, there was no longer even a hint of derision to be seen. Instead, their faces were filled with terror.

Immediately, people began to consider fleeing. However, what they hadn't noticed was that behind them, another foggy wind had appeared. It surrounded them, completely enveloping them and cutting off their escape.

These Cultivators had pursued Meng Hao with menacing viciousness, but now, their hearts grew cold.

This was even more so when they noticed that inside the foggy wind ahead and behind were dozens of phantom figures. The figures were running, causing the ground to heave. It was easy to imagine how quickly they would be injured, or even killed, were they to be struck by the phantoms.

After all, the phantoms had just trampled a mid Core Formation Cultivator to death in an instant. This filled the other Cultivators' hearts with dread.

It didn't take long for them to realize that the phantoms running through the wind were actually none other than the more than one hundred Cultivators they had previously derided.

As they circled the area, their voices grew louder and louder.

"Have faith in the Lord Fifth, gain eternal life. When the Lord Fifth appears, who dares to cause strife!" The shocking sound of the voices shook the earth, causing everything to tremble and the other Cultivator's faces to drain of blood.

"What spell formation is this?!" the words were not spoken by Patriarch Rubicund, whose heart trembled with fear and trepidation as he looked at the foggy wind around them growing less and less clear. Nor were they spoken by Patriarch Pockmarks, who stood there with an unsightly expression on his face.

Instead, they were spoken by another Cultivator. He was short, with a very large head. Because of that, he didn't stand out very much within the crowd. Even Meng Hao hadn't even noticed him.

When the big-headed Cultivator spoke out, looks of reverence appeared on the faces of many of the surrounding onlookers, who stepped back politely. Patriarch Pockmarks was from the Han River Sect. Patriarch Rubicund was from the Sky High Sect. And this big-headed Cultivator was the Patriarch of the third great Sect, the Talisman Sect.

His Cultivation base was at the late Core Formation stage. His methods were ruthless, and few people in Dongluo City would dare to provoke him. Furthermore, he was known to be very skilled with spell formations. As he stepped forward and looked out at the foggy wind, he slapped his bag of holding to produce a jade bracelet.

Patriarch Rubicund and Patriarch Pockmarks looked at Patriarch Big-head's bag of holding with bitter smiles. They said nothing, but it was obvious that he hadn't been part of the great Spirit Stone theft incident. Clearly, his bag of holding was completely intact.

Patriarch Big-head stared down at the bracelet, the surface of which was murky, but upon which could be seen over one hundred dots of light, moving to and fro. He studied it for a long moment and then took a deep breath. His eyes shone with amazement, and his heart trembled. "What a splendid Celestial spell formation," he said. "This is a legendary magic from ancient times, long since lost to the world. And yet here it is today, being employed in front of our own eyes!

"This Celestial spell formation is based upon humans. Ancient Cultivators used powerful corporeal bodies to form the eye of the spell. The more people in the spell formation, the more power it can employ…. The wind of this spell formation has the potential to slay Immortals. Those phantoms are Human Celestials!!" Patriarch Big-head's scalp was numb. He suddenly turned his head to look at the foggy wind behind them, and his eyes began to glitter brightly.

"However, there are only one hundred people powering this particular spell. Furthermore, these are not ancient Cultivators, and their Cultivation bases are varied and weak. In turn, that means… this spell formation can be broken! What is your choice, to break through the wind in front of us and slay the people therein, or break through the wind behind us, retreat and then come up with another plan?" He looked at Patriarch Pockmarks and Patriarch Rubicund, his eyes gleaming.

The three of them exchanged glances, whereupon their eyes filled with determination.

"I don't want much," said Patriarch Big-head with a smile, his eyes filled with avarice. "Just that parrot."

"I want my belongings back, plus half of the contents of that guy's bag of holding," said Patriarch Pockmarks, his voice grim.

"The other half goes to me," said Patriarch Rubicund, his killing intent flickering, "along with his life!"