"How dare you!" The clouds above the Eighth Nation churned. The war chariot ripped through the air, pulled by 1,000,000 souls, causing the darkness of night to spread out rapidly. Standing in the chariot was Lin Cong from the Fourth Mountain. He looked like an emperor of death, wielding the power of the Yellow Springs, his voice echoing out like claps of thunder.
Meng Hao's face was calm, but inwardly, he was musing about how his previous assumption that he was at the absolute peak of the Immortal Realm had been proved wrong during his battle with Han Qinglei. Each and every person who joined the Echelon possessed different destinies and types of good fortune. They were all people who other cultivators simply couldn't compare to. You could say that each Echelon cultivator had their own unique path, and therefore... each member was different.
The paths were different, and thus, the Echelon cultivators were all different!
