migrate.
The entire West Desert, in this short period of time, many tribes, all bitterly, made this decision!
But this decision is easy to say, and perhaps it is not difficult for most of them, but for the Crow God tribe at this moment, migration... is tantamount to destruction!
The teleportation array of the entire West Desert land almost all failed in just a few days, especially the northern part of West Desert, due to the low-lying terrain, which caused a large amount of purple rain to condense. It can even be imagined, west, south, and east. The purple rain, after falling into the earth, will gradually merge towards the north due to the terrain of the entire West Desert.
The first to become the sea must be the northern part of West Desert!
If the Wushen Five Departments had not experienced most of the Five Poison Wars, then they still have a certain ability to migrate, but now... Counting those young children and older people, the entire Wushen Wushu is only left. More than two thousand people.
Compared with the previous tens of thousands, the strength of the entire tribe has fallen severely, and the scale at this moment is only equivalent to a small tribe in West Desert.
And... because of the failure of the teleportation array, because there are nearly half of the tribe in the tribe, ordinary people without cultivation bases, they cannot move by flying, but need to walk on foot.
"We can't walk to Motu... This place is too far away from Motu, even if it is a sleepless flight with the Yuan Ying cultivation base, it will take at least ten years.
If it’s on foot... It will take thousands of years, thousands of years of migration... Are our Wushen tribe still there? "The clan father of the Wubing tribe, the old-haired man, stood beside Meng Hao with a look of exhaustion in his expression.
His appearance was even older, and now he looked back at the people who gradually calmed down and built a rain-blocking tree to perch, and said bitterly.
"Zi Yu will gradually isolate the spiritual energy. At that time, we will all become mortals. The meaning of extinction in the rain will erode the body and make people weaker until death.
Not to mention the children and ordinary people in the tribe, they...will be the first people to die, and then...will die more and more, until the race perishes on the way of migration. "The clan father's voice became more bitter, and he murmured.
"In addition, this migration is a common behavior of all tribes in West Desert. On this road, because of food, resources, and various needs for survival, there will be a chaotic war!
In this war, the various tribes competed with each other in order to allow their own tribes to survive. Today's Crow God tribe... does not have this qualification. "
"Also, even if we have successfully gone through thousands of years, even if we were lucky enough to not be swallowed up, but... when approaching Motu, what qualifications do we... have to step into the Motu with limited area and limited capacity for tribes?
So many large tribes, so many medium tribes, how do we... stand out from them, and let the big giants that control Motu recognize us? "The Wubing tribe shook his head and looked at Meng Hao.
Meng Hao was silent. He had already seen some children who were already frail. After being exposed to the rain, the weakness of life appeared. This purple rain would wipe out all existence.
"So, Lord Saint Ancestor, you... let's go!" The clan father stared at Meng Hao, and said firmly.
"Leave here, leave the Wushen tribe, with the cultivation of Master Saint Ancestor, as your great dragon, any tribe will be willing to accept you at this critical period and take you to Motu.
This is the vitality of Lord Saint Ancestor. As for us..." The clan father turned his head again and glanced at the five tribes in the temporary tribe built to block the rain, his eyes showed a touch of sadness.
"We will not leave our homeland. If we are destined to be annihilated, we will die together, be buried together, be with our ancestors, and be with those people who died in battle...
In this case, maybe those children still have a chance to grow up. "The clan father's body seems to be older, as if the vitality is slowly passing away.
Meng Hao was silent again. He didn't know what to say. He could only look back at the moment and silently look at the tribesmen of the Wushen Five Tribes. He saw Wu Chen, Wu Ling, and the child who was calling his mother in his sleep. I saw the old man who was in tears and missed his relatives, and I saw many familiar faces.
In front of him, there are only two choices, go... or stay!
If he left, with Meng Hao's special nature, he would be one of the most capable of surviving under this purple rain in the West Desert.
But if you stay...
Meng Hao sighed lightly, did not speak, but turned and walked towards the tribe. As he approached, the tribe's clansmen showed enthusiasm in their eyes. In Meng Hao's smile, he returned to the courtyard of the back mountain.
Here, the rain is heavy, Meng Hao sits cross-legged under the eaves, surrounded by a group of monsters around him, Da Mao lying next to Meng Hao, making a whining sound, it has wounds on its body, but it will not be fatal.
At this moment, Meng Hao's monster group only had more than 6,000 left, all of them were wounded, and they were all recovering.
Gula was busy with the rain, preparing food for them, and simply treating their wounds. The sky in the distance was dim, and the rain... was getting bigger and bigger.
Such a sky, such a land, gradually became oppressive, shrouded in Meng Hao's heart, shrouded in the hearts of all the Wushen tribe.
"Would you like to go... Maybe it's the best choice to leave here after the parrot returns, but..." Meng Hao was silent again. Since coming to West Desert, he has lived in the Five Branches of the Wushen and obtained the good fortune he wanted. , But Wushen Five Departments, and therefore paid the price.
Although objectively speaking, none of this has anything to do with Meng Hao, emotionally, Meng Hao couldn't get past the hurdle in his heart.
However, the words of the Wubing tribe's father are very reasonable. Under normal circumstances, the Wushen five tribes are not qualified to move. Even if they can move, Motu... is definitely not an ordinary tribe and can be entered.
Meng Hao thought of Motu, the figure of the Brother Ximo in that battle in Motu.
"What a earth-shattering calculation, with this calamity, using Motu as a temptation to count the entire West Desert! So it seems that it should be almost time to control most of the West Desert, which controls the Motu, and show its fangs." Meng Hao's eyes. Flashed.
Time passed slowly, and two months passed in a blink of an eye. In the past two months, Zi Yu has never stopped for a moment. The rain is getting heavier and heavier. Meng Hao can no longer live in the back mountain because there... Stream.
The tribesmen of the Five Tribes of Wushen moved to the top of the mountain. On the top of the mountain, they built a shed to block the rain. In this shed, more than two thousand people lived in silence.
Some people have begun to appear weak...
Sitting cross-legged on the top of the mountain, Meng Hao looked at the mountains in the distance. The original greenery had now become the gray and black of death, and all the vegetation had died.
Every day, you can see strange monsters that either run by or fly away. They are all living in the depths of the mountains. In this catastrophe, not only the monks, but also them are migrating.
There are already many areas on the earth that have become purple. It is where countless streams converge and become big rivers. It can be imagined that after a while, after such big rivers merge one by one, they will become lakes. When such lakes After appearing one after another... the sea was formed.
"If I can't take you away, I will be here, with you, waiting for the arrival of death, and can't let Ziyu bury you. The tombstones of the five parts of the Wushen should be carved for them." Meng Hao Feeling a little melancholy in his heart, he couldn't think of another way, because for the 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, too many tribes will rush to Motu. In this process, the five parts of the 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 muttered.
Time passed again, one month, this day, suddenly, a hope... appeared in front of Meng Hao, appeared in front of all the tribesmen of the Wushen Five.
That is a voice!
A sound that echoed the entire north of West Desert, the east, the west, and the south. I didn't know what magic or magical powers it used to unfold an unknowingly deep cultivation base, and then a voice that covered the entire West Desert land.
"West Desert, fellow tribesmen, hello..."
"This is the first announcement to all the monks in the entire West Desert from the heavenly alliance composed of most of the Motu Tiancong, most of the Manyan, and most of the Monster Butterflies..."
At this moment, Meng Hao raised his head, and the clan father of the Wubing tribe opened his eyes from entering Ding. All the clansmen of the tribe looked towards the sky one by one.
At this moment, in the entire northern part of West Desert, most of the ice flames that are moving on the road, in various areas, at different locations, either move, or rest, or, like the Wushen five, choose to return to all the west of the hometown of Wushen. Monk Mo, all of their bodies shook and looked towards the sky.
At this moment, most of the Five Poisons, the West Desert of West Desert, the east, the south, all the regions, all the tribes, all... raised their heads.
"The purple rain comes and the catastrophe of the West China Sea appears. This purple rain will gradually exterminate all vitality and gradually isolate all spiritual energy. Now the entire West Desert land, nearly 90% of the teleportation array, has lost its effect." This voice echoed the world with vicissitudes of life. .
"In this catastrophe, the only vitality in West Desert is Motu, which was transformed by the Celestial Alliance many years ago and suitable for the survival of the West Desert tribe!"
"However, the ink soil area is limited and cannot accommodate all the West Desert tribes, and we cannot decide who is more qualified to step into the ink soil, so... we give you a chance... "
"Looking for demon spirits, according to the deduction of our Heavenly Court Alliance, according to the records of countless ancient books, whenever the West Desert transforms the sea, the world changes and demon spirits emerge. There will be no more than ten demon spirits born in the land of West Desert.
As long as the tribes that show up outside Motu with demon spirits will be eligible to enter Motu, we... only recognize demon spirits! "
The sound dissipated, but the remaining sound was echoing, spreading throughout the West Desert, falling into the ears of countless people, arousing heavy breathing, and in exchange for countless red eyes.
Meng Hao's eyes suddenly showed sharp light.