Meng Hao stood in front of the second-floor window. The moon hung in the sky. Off in the distance, he could see a mountain covered with rippling spells that looked like a fine gauze.
The miserable cry was coming from that mountain. At the moment, multiple figures could be seen flying up from various surrounding mountains to see what was happening.
Soon, several prismatic beams shot toward the mountain. Not long after, the ripples in the spells faded away, and everything returned to how it had been moments before. Everything was quiet.
Meng Hao frowned, and his eyes flashed. He remembered that mountain from which the scream had emanated was the same mountain that the sallow-faced man had gone to earlier that day. Having seen the figures emerge and fly toward the mountain, Meng Hao was about to go investigate, but then paused suddenly.
