Hongmen Blessed Land, the white mist is vast, in the dim light, the mysterious Taoist was faintly visible, with nine clear lights emerging behind him, continuously appearing and disappearing, like a god or an immortal.
"Zhou Dao!"
The Taoist suddenly opened his eyes, the lights in his eyes as sharp as lightning.
He waved the whisk in his hand fiercely.
In an instant, the mist condensed and transformed, giving birth to a series of images.
The raging wind around his ears turned into various strange sounds.
"What is that…"
Zhou Dao widened his eyes and saw a bizarre scene before him.
Atop a towering peak, a young man sat within a storm of thunder and fire, a black ancient coffin floating above his head, covered in talisman patterns.
A stream of light flowed from the black coffin, like the veins of a human body rooting into the young man.
It seemed as if he were eating, greedily absorbing the power of the black coffin.
"Damn it!"