Chapter 342: Patriarch Golden Light!
Two days later, a black-robed figure flew out from a valley.
“Don’t worry, Big Brother Ouyang,” said the voice arrogantly. “I shall help you take care of this despicable fellow. It won’t be long before we can use his skull to drink alcohol together!” The figure shot through the air to meet an incoming beam of golden light.
This person possessed Core Qi in the form of an enormous mountain. The power of the Core Qi was joined by a howling totemic Giant Ape which smashed down toward Meng Hao.
Big-head was off in the distance looking on with an expression of appreciation. He’d finally found a friend willing to do something to help him.
The first thing he did was to turn and flee off into the distance as fast as possible.
However, before he had flown for the space of a few breaths, a blood-curdling scream rang out, which was cut off by a massive explosion.
Heart trembling, Big-head looked back to see the giant ape falling to pieces and the mountain crumbling. The Cultivator who had been attempting to block Meng Hao’s way exploded. All of that was the result of a single fist strike from Meng Hao.
The sight of Meng Hao’s right fist caused Big-head’s scalp to grow numb. Spitting out another mouthful of blood, he went all out to flee as quickly as possible.
“What a psycho! When did someone so inhuman show up in the Black Lands? And how come I had to provoke him…?” Heart filled with bitterness, he lowered his head and shot forward at top speed.
Four days later a dusk….
“Fear not, Brother Ouyang!” said a bald Cultivator, lifting up his glass. “We, the Black Mountain Nine Saints, might not measure up to you in terms of Cultivation base, but when it comes to our spell formation, we can trap anyone under the Nascent Soul stage for at least three days.”
Big-head, his face pale, reluctantly lifted up a glass of alcohol. However, his glance was drawn off into the distance, where eight figures were shooting toward an approaching beam of billowing, golden light.
“Brother Ouyang, you really don’t need to worry. Just don’t think about going back on your word about the Gilded Lizard totem you said you would give us.” The bald-headed Cultivator laughed, but within his gaze was an imperceptible trace of scorn.
According to the rumors he had heard, this Ouyang from the three great Sects of Dongluo City had offended a mid Core Formation Cultivator of the junior generation. The two had been involved in a deadly chase across half of the western region of the Black Lands.
Seeing the terrified state of Ouyang, the bald Cultivator couldn’t help but look down on him, and had come to the conclusion that the man’s previous reputation had been considerably inflated.
The bald Cultivator took a drink of alcohol and then said, “How come a trifling mid Core Formation Cultivator is being called Patriarch Golden Light? How laughable! We Black Mountain Nine… huh?” Before he could even finish speaking, a massive boom filled the air, and the ground trembled. Even more shocking to the man was that even though it was clearly midday, in the location where the fight was going on could be seen a starry sky!
Even as the bald Cultivator was shocked into silence, Ouyang’s mind began to buzz. A forlorn expression appeared on his face as he tossed the glass of alcohol down. He slapped his chest, forcing some more blood out of his mouth to activate his secret technique. He shot off into the distance at high speed, something that had already become a force of habit. The bald Cultivator watched on with gaping mouth.
A mocking look appeared on the man’s face. A moment later, while the look was still plastered there, the hair all over his body stood on end. An intense feeling of danger suddenly filled his mind. He spun as if he had been struck by lightning. There in front of him was a scholarly young man bathed in golden light. It was impossible to say when he had arrived. He picked up the flagon of alcohol and took a sip.
“You….” said the bald Cultivator. He turned to look off into the distance, where the bodies of his eight compatriots were still falling down from mid-air.
He gasped, and backed up. Everything began to go dark.
However, before everything went black, the bald Cultivator blurted out: “I’ll pledge allegiance to Patriarch Golden Light!” Suddenly, his vision went back to normal.
The chase continued for seven more days!
Patriarch Big-head chose not to return to his Sect; he was a Patriarch, and had brought the Sect Elders with him on his excursion. The only people left back in the Sect were of the Foundation Establishment stage. There wasn’t even a single Core Formation Cultivator.
Furthermore, in his current state, he would be incapable of operating the Sect’s Grand Spell Formation. Also, he knew that if he stopped anywhere, he was dead for sure.
Therefore, he could do nothing other than flee, seeking out the powerful people he was familiar with in the area. Unfortunately, none of those people had sufficient Cultivation bases; not a single one was of the Nascent Soul stage.
Generally speaking, Nascent Soul Cultivators were the most powerful experts one would see in the Black Lands. Under other circumstances, he should have been able to go plead for help from some Rogue Nascent Soul Cultivators. Unfortunately… because of the chaos in the Black Lands, Nascent Soul Cultivators were now extremely valuable assets to the Alliance of United Nine Cities and the Black Lands Palace. Both forces were using everything they had at their disposal to recruit them; Big-head clearly couldn’t compete with that.
So he fled from place to place in bitter struggle. He thought of going to Dongluo City, but he was well aware of the ruthlessness of Black Lands Cultivators. Considering his current condition, he wasn’t worth anything to Dongluo City. They wouldn’t do anything for his sake. If he had pledged himself to them earlier, it would have made things easier; they would have been forced to help him.
Unfortunately, in order to try to get the most out of the deal, he had told them he would consider their offer, but hadn’t formalized an agreement. As such, it would be difficult to solicit their aid.
“Dammit! When did such an inhuman beast appear in the Black Lands!” he thought, cursing Meng Hao in his heart. Suddenly, he caught sight of a golden beam of light behind him. He spat up some more blood and fled. It felt as if he had spat up a lifetime’s worth of blood recently. His face was pale white, and his injuries were even more severe, exacerbated by his blood loss.
However, he had no other options. He couldn’t fight, so he had to run.
Behind him, Meng Hao whistled through the air surrounded by surging golden light. Following him were nearly four hundred Cultivators. These were people from the power groups that Big-head had tried to get help from. Faced with the prospect of death, they had chosen to side with Meng Hao.
One of them was the bald mid Core Formation Cultivator from Black Mountain. The entire group flew through the air, looking up ahead at Meng Hao and the golden light.
Strength came with numbers. During the past seven days, this group had gained quite a bit of fame in this western part of the Black Lands. Wherever they passed, their shadows darkened the land and blotted out the sky. When you added in Meng Hao and the golden light which he intentionally caused to shine out from his body, it was really a shocking sight.
It was hard to say who first called out the name Patriarch Golden Light, but word began to spread, and soon all the powers in the area knew of the name.
A day later, Big-head was exhausted to the extreme. Despite that, he gritted his teeth and flew ahead toward a tall mountain. The mountain was a sinister one, the base of which was surrounded by black waters. Five enormous vultures circled around its peak, occasionally calling out with shrill shrieks.
Sitting cross-legged at the very top were three old men. The one in the middle wore a seven-colored robe and was of the late Core Formation stage; the other two were of the mid Core Formation stage.
Unsightly expressions covered their faces. They sat there cross-legged, seemingly in meditation. However, their Cultivation bases were rotating, and they appeared to be on guard. Their eyes were fixed on the approaching big-headed Cultivator and massive golden glow that was following him.
“Dammit, it’s Patriarch Golden Light!”
“The past few days, everyone has been talking about how Patriarch Golden Light is trying to kill Ouyang. Anyone who helps out Ouyang ends up getting slaughtered!”
“I heard that more than ten Core Formation Cultivators have died at Patriarch Golden Light’s hands…. The weakest were of the mid Core Formation stage, and there were two of the late Core Formation stage!”
“Have you forgotten about the three great Sects of Dongluo City? Ouyang is on the run for his life, but the Patriarchs of the other two Sects haven’t appeared. They must have already met a dark end. If you add them in, it means that the number of Core Formation Cultivators who have fallen to Patriarch Golden Light is incredible!”
Their faces were incredibly unsightly by this point. They were friends with Big-head, but that friendship wasn’t enough to get them to stand up to Patriarch Golden Light. And yet, Big-head was clearly heading to them seeking refuge.
“Fellow Daoists, save me!” he cried, his voice filled with a pleading tone. Considering his status and the level of his Cultivation base, for him to cry out in such a manner showed what a wretched position he’d fallen into. His voice reached the mountain peak, and the ears of the three old men. They couldn’t help but feel a bit sympathetic.
Meng Hao approached, whistling through the air, surrounded by golden light. “Do the three of you want to get involved too?” he said coolly, his voice echoing out in all directions like thunder.
The faces of the three old men flickered. This was especially true of the two men with the weaker Cultivation bases. Their minds spun and their faces drained of blood. Their Cores quivered inside of them. All three men took in deep breaths.
They couldn’t help but think about the rumors that had been spreading regarding Patriarch Golden Light.
He ripped the Cores out of Cultivators and ate them raw! He massacred, leaving no survivors! His methods were cruel and vicious!
It wasn’t clear how such rumors had begun to spread about Meng Hao. He actually hadn’t killed very many people in the past few days; most of the deaths were caused by his hundreds of followers.
In any case, as soon as Meng Hao’s words fell upon the ears of the three men on the peak of the mountain, the old man with the highest Cultivation base, the one with the seven-colored robe, shot to his feet. A smile covered his face as he clasped hands and bowed.
“Greetings, Patriarch Golden Light. We will definitely not interfere in the matter between you two.” Having said that, he stamped his foot down, causing a glowing shield to rise up around the mountain. Big-head had absolutely no chance to enter.
Big-head let out a plaintive wail. He spit out some more blood to activate his secret technique and speed away. He was now emaciated and frail, which made his big head even more conspicuous. He flew along in the air, so weak he could barely even form a fist, his head drooping down.
Grief and indignation filled his face as he charged onward.
Two days passed. Big-head’s indignation continued to grow. No matter where he went, his friends all began to use their magic to block his way. It was like he had turned into some sort of plague.
In fact, there was one power group who had been slow in employing their spell formation. When he slipped in to beg for help, his friend had flipped out and attacked him. Apparently the man had been afraid of causing a misunderstanding with Patriarch Golden Light.
Big-head was now completely without hope. He floated in mid-air looking around in all directions. Unfortunately, there was no one he could turn to for help. He was out of power, and could flee no more. Face ashen, he turned and looked at the approaching Meng Hao.
After the space of about ten breaths, Meng Hao came to stop in front of him. “Done running?” he asked coolly.