I Shall Seal the Heavens

migrate.

In the entire Western Desert, in this short period of time, many tribes made this decision with bitterness!

But this decision is easy to say, and perhaps it is not difficult for most of them, but for the Wushen tribe at this moment, migration... is equal to destruction!

Almost all teleportation arrays in the entire Western Desert have failed in just a few days, especially in the northern part of the Western Desert. Due to the low-lying terrain, this has caused a large amount of purple rain to condense. It is even conceivable that the west, south, and east After the purple rain falls on the earth, it will gradually merge towards the north due to the terrain of the entire Western Desert.

The first place to become a sea must be the northern part of the Western Desert!

If the Five Crowshen Tribes had not experienced the war between the Five Poisons, then they would still have a certain ability to migrate. But now...counting those young children and elderly people, of the entire Five Crowshen Tribes, only More than two thousand people attended.

Compared with the tens of thousands before, the strength of the entire tribe has seriously dropped. The scale at this moment is only equivalent to a small tribe in the Western Desert.

Moreover... due to the failure of the teleportation array, and because nearly half of the clansmen in the tribe are ordinary people without cultivation, they cannot move by flying, but need to walk.

"We can't reach Motu... This place is too far away from Motu. Even if we fly non-stop with Nascent Soul cultivation, it will take at least ten years.

If it is on foot...it will take thousands of years, thousands of years of migration...are our Wushen tribe still there? "The gray-haired old man, the clan leader of the Wubing Tribe, stood beside Meng Hao. He looked tired.

He looked older, and now he looked back and gradually calmed down. The tribesman who built a tree to block the rain spoke bitterly.

"Purple rain will gradually cut off the spiritual energy. At that time, we will all become mortals. The meaning of extinction in the rain will corrode the body, making people weaker and weaker until death.

Not to mention the children and ordinary people in the tribe. They... will be the first people to die, and then... more and more people will die, until the tribe dies during the migration. "The clan leader's voice became increasingly bitter as he murmured.

"In addition, this migration is a common behavior of all tribes in the entire Western Desert. On this road, chaotic wars will begin for food, resources, and various needs for survival!

In this war, various tribes compete with each other. This is all to allow their own tribe to survive. Today's Wushen tribe... does not have this qualification. "

"besides,

Even if we have successfully gone through thousands of years, even if we are lucky enough not to be swallowed up, but... when we approach the Motu. What qualifications do we have? The area we can enter is limited. Motu has limited capacity to accommodate tribes?

There are so many large tribes, so many medium-sized tribes, how can we... stand out from them and let the few giants who control Motu recognize us? "The chief of the Wubing tribe shook his head and looked at Meng Hao.

Meng Hao was silent. He had seen that some children who were already weak had become weak after being hit by the rain. This purple rain would wipe out all existence.

"So, Lord Saint Ancestor, you... let's go!" The clan leader stared at Meng Hao and spoke decisively.

"Leave here, leave the Wushen Tribe. With the cultivation of the Holy Ancestor and your identity as the Great Silong, any tribe will be happy to accept you during this critical period and take you with them to Motu.

This is the vitality of the Holy Ancestor. As for us..." The clan leader turned back again and glanced at the five tribesmen in the temporary tribe built to protect them from the rain. There was a trace of sadness in his eyes.

"We will not leave our homeland. If we are destined to be exterminated, we will die together and be buried together, with our ancestors, and with those clansmen who died in the war...

In this case, maybe those children still have a chance to grow up. "The clan leader's body seems to be older, as if his vitality is slowly passing away.

Meng Hao was silent again. He didn't know what to say. At this moment, he could only turn around and look at the people of the five tribes of Wu Shen in silence. He saw Wu Chen, saw Wu Ling, and saw the children calling for their mothers in their sleep. I saw old people shedding tears and missing their loved ones, and saw many familiar faces.

Before him, there were only two choices, go...or stay!

If he were to leave, with Meng Hao's special characteristics, he would be the most capable of surviving under this purple rain in the Western Desert.

But if you stay...

Meng Hao sighed softly and said nothing. Instead, he turned and walked towards the tribe. As he approached, the tribesmen showed enthusiasm in their eyes. With Meng Hao's smile, he returned to the courtyard in the back mountain.

Here, it was raining heavily. Meng Hao was sitting cross-legged under the eaves, surrounded by monsters. Big Mao was lying next to Meng Hao, making a whining sound. There were injuries on its body, but it was not fatal.

Meng Hao's demon group now only has more than 6,000 people left, all of them injured and recovering.

Gula was busy among the demons despite the rain, preparing food for them and simply treating their wounds. The sky in the distance was dark, and the rain... was getting heavier and heavier.

This kind of sky and this kind of earth gradually became oppressive, shrouding Meng Hao's heart and shrouding the minds of all the people of the Wushen tribe.

"Do you want to leave... Maybe it is the best choice to leave here after the parrot returns, but..." Meng Hao was silent again. Since arriving in the Western Desert, he has lived in the Wushen Wubu and got what he wanted. But the five tribes of Crow God also paid a price for this.

Although objectively speaking, all this had nothing to do with Meng Hao, but emotionally, Meng Hao couldn't overcome the hurdle in his heart.

However, the words of the chief of the Wubing Tribe are very reasonable. Under normal circumstances, the five tribes of the Crow God are not eligible to migrate. Even if they can migrate, Mo Tu... is definitely not an ordinary tribe that can be entered.

Meng Hao thought of Motu and the figure of the Western Desert monk in the battle in Motu.

"What an earth-shattering calculation. With this calamity, Mo Tu is used as a lure, and the entire Western Desert is calculated! From this point of view, it should be almost time for those who control Mo Tu to show their fangs over most of the Western Desert." Meng Hao's eyes widened. A flash.

Time passed slowly, and two months passed in the blink of an eye. In the past two months, the purple rain never stopped for a moment, and the rain became heavier and heavier. Meng Hao could no longer live in the back mountain, because it... had become a wasteland. Knee streams.

The tribesmen of the Wu Shen tribe moved to the top of the mountain and built a shed to protect them from the rain. In this shed, more than two thousand people lived silently.

Some members of the clan have begun to show signs of weakness...

Meng Hao sat cross-legged on the top of the mountain, looking at the mountains in the distance. The original lush green had now turned into deathly gray and black, and all the vegetation had withered.

Every day, you can see strange monsters running past or flying away. They all live deep in the mountains. In this catastrophe, it is not only the monks who migrated, but also them.

There are already many areas on the earth that have turned purple. They are countless streams that have converged and become big rivers. It can be imagined that after a while, such big rivers will merge one by one and become lakes. When such a lake After appearing one after another...the sea was formed.

"If I can't take you away, I will be here to accompany you, waiting for death to come. I can't let Ziyu bury you. Someone should carve all the names on the tombstones of the Five Crow Gods." Meng Hao He felt a little melancholy in his heart, and he couldn't think of any other way, because for Wushen Wubu, there was no hope ahead.

Motu can be regarded as a hope, but this hope is not intuitive, and this hope has no impact, because on this road, there are too many tribes that will rush towards Motu. In this process, the five tribes of Wushen are very It’s hard to get ahead of everyone.

"Unless there is a hope!" Meng Hao raised his head, looked at the purple rain between the sky and the earth in the distance, and murmured.

Time passed again, and one month passed. On this day, suddenly, a hope... appeared in front of Meng Hao, and in front of all the members of the five tribes of the Crow God.

That's a voice!

A sound that echoed throughout the northern part of the Western Desert, reverberated in the east, west, and south. I don’t know what magic or magical power was used to develop an unknown amount of profound cultivation, and the sound spread out and covered the entire land of the Western Desert.

"Hello, fellow tribesmen from all tribes in the Western Desert..."

"This is the first announcement from the Heavenly Alliance composed of most of the Motu Tiancong, most of the Manyan, and most of the Demonic Butterfly to all the monks in the entire Western Desert..."

At this moment, Meng Hao raised his head, the clan leader of the Wubing tribe opened his eyes from his trance, and all the tribesmen looked to the sky one by one.

At this moment, in the entire northern part of the Western Desert, most of the Bingyan who were on their way to migration were either migrating or resting in different locations in various regions, or, like the five tribes of Wushen, all the Westerners who chose to return to their hometown The whole bodies of the monks in the desert were shaken and they looked towards the sky.

At this moment, most of the Five Poisons, including the Western Desert, the Eastern Desert, the Southern Desert, all regions, and all the tribes... raised their heads.

"Purple Rain is coming, and the catastrophe of the West Sea has occurred. This Purple Rain will gradually extinguish all vitality and gradually isolate all spiritual energy. Now, nearly 90% of the teleportation arrays in the entire Western Desert have lost their function." This voice carries vicissitudes of life, echoing around the world. .

"In this catastrophe, the only hope of survival in the Western Desert is Motu, which was transformed by the Heavenly Alliance many years ago and is suitable for the survival of the Western Desert tribes!"

"However, the Motu area is limited and cannot accommodate all the Western Desert tribes, and we cannot decide who is more qualified to step into the Motu, so... we give you a chance..."

"Looking for demon spirits, according to the derivation of our Heavenly Alliance, and according to the records of countless classics, whenever the Western Desert turns into the sea, the heaven and earth change, and demon spirits emerge, there will be no more than ten demon spirits born in the land of the Western Desert.

Any tribe that appears outside Motu with demon spirits will be qualified to enter Motu. We... only recognize demon spirits! "

The sound dissipated, but the lingering sound was echoing, spreading throughout the entire Western Desert, falling into the ears of countless people, causing heavy breathing and countless red eyes.

Meng Hao's eyes flashed sharply.

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The first update is here! (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to come to Qidian.com () to vote for recommendations and monthly votes. Your support is my biggest motivation. Mobile phone users, please read it.)