The moment the Eight Trigrams Image soared into the sky, the surrounding void vibrated with a humming noise, and ripples appeared.
"This is…"
Golden Pill Monks like Immortal Baimei looked at the scene before them, suspecting they were seeing illusions.
Space?
This is space, right!!
Isn't this something only Patriarch Nascent Soul can touch upon?
Had they, the mere hundred-plus Golden Pill Monks practicing the Formation Method for half a month, simply touched upon space just like that?
Naturally, none of the crowd believed it was their own merit; their gaze turned towards the plain-looking young man at the center of the Eight Trigrams Formation, full of immense respect.
Boom!
