According to common sense, with Tao Qian's level of cultivation and mana, even if a vast tide of knowledge, like that of a library, were to flood into his mind, he would still be able to withstand it.
Yet this moment is vastly different.
In Tao Qian's eyes, it seemed as if scenes from all the heavens and realms were reflected, with brilliant colors and shadows of various sizes writhing. There are beings and phenomena in all sorts of forms, some known and some unknown, flooding in together, some communicable, others not.
Some express yearning, while others emit meaningless howls and roars.
What they have in common is pollution.
Every syllable carries the power of mutation, seeking to engulf Tao Qian within.
Even though he is the respected Lord Suppressing Evil of the Spirit Treasure Sect, at this moment, he falls into a brief daze.
Grandma Taizhen hastily transmits a message, timely entering his ears:
