"Mount Tai's divine descendant, the radiant star of the West, Hengshan's gloomy depths, Zhong Song's great void, thunder commands, hurry into the talisman's capture."
"Go!"
Zhang Shouyang, with a sharp shout, threw a talisman into the air. It grew larger as it soared, igniting without flame, faintly forming the image of the Five Sacred Mountains.
In an instant, the air felt as if it carried millions of pounds in weight, like a divine mountain pressing down from above, a heavy and solemn breath enveloping from the sky, unyielding to rain or wind, standing firm.
Beneath it, a Silver Colossus roared frantically on the wildland, its ten-zhang-tall frame suddenly shrinking, as if bearing the weight of a mountain, its movements becoming instantly sluggish.
