58 This is not its World

Two months passed. Meng Hao sat cross-legged in the Immortal's Cave in the deep mountains. Suddenly, a thunderous noise rang out, sending the nearby animals scattering. The large stone slab he had sliced out to seal the cave suddenly shattered into pieces.

Stone fragments showered out in all directions as Meng Hao emerged from the Immortal's Cave. His hair hung down like a cloak around his scholar's robe. His eyes glittered like lightning, and a shocking aura emanated from him, as well as a pleasant, fragrant aroma.

A look of joy filled his face. After having been in secluded meditation for such a long time, he let out a laugh which echoed out and sent the wild beasts running.

"The eighth level of Qi Condensation!" he said, his fists clenched. His eyes shone, which would have been even more obvious were it nighttime.