Just as something major was happening in the cemetery, a middle-aged daoist silently entered the white mist.
He was the Chief Enforcer of the Infatuation Daoist Temple, the number two figure in the Infatuation Daoist Temple, a true great sage of Daoism. There were very few cultivators with seniority higher than his, and even fewer with a higher cultivation realm. He was a true big shot of this world world. But even he furrowed his brows when he entered the white mist.
The white mist was very strange.
Ordinary cultivators who entered it would lose all their cultivation, becoming ordinary mortals. When the Sublime Bright Sect discovered this ancient ruin, they sent many people in to investigate. Among those people included the previous Sublime Bright Sect Master. But even he would lose all his cultivation when he entered.
When the middle-aged daoist entered, he immediately could not detect all the qi within his body. He had cultivated for many years, possessing a profound cultivation realm, and was well-versed in various daoist techniques. However, it seemed that there was no way to prevent this from happening.
But he was not an ordinary cultivator.
He quickly took out an oiled-paper umbrella and opened it. As he did so, the surrounding white mist seemed to be suppressed by something, scattering in all directions, which was quite strange.
When he held up this oiled-paper umbrella, the middle-aged daoist felt much better.
He walked into the white mist with an ordinary expression, as if he were just taking a leisurely stroll.
But in reality, if someone were to see the oiled-paper umbrella in his hand, they might experience a myriad of complex emotions.
As the leader of Daoism, the Infatuation Daoist Temple had a deep foundation. There were naturally countless world-shaking magic artifacts in the temple. The oiled-paper umbrella in the hands of this daoist was one of them.
The white mist that troubled countless cultivators seemed to temporarily yield before this oiled-paper umbrella.
"This might be an ancient formation, but where's the formation eye?" The middle-aged daoist walked toward the depths of the white mist, speaking softly as he walked.
The existence of the white mist had puzzled Sublime Bright Sect for many years, but in the eyes of this middle-aged daoist, it was as if he instantly understood the past and present of this white mist.
This was the greatest difference between the Infatuation Daoist Temple and the Sublime Bright Sect.
The middle-aged daoist held up the umbrella and continued walking deeper into the white mist. Soon, he arrived at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a valley. In this valley, the white mist was even denser, making it hard for him to see clearly.
The mist in this area was thicker. Others might have mistaken it for the location of the formation eye. However, the middle-aged daoist was very clear that this was not.
He turned and walked towards the distance. After an unknown amount of time, he arrived at another cliff.
A scripture passage was engraved on that cliff. However, the characters were not the writing currently used in the world. The middle-aged daoist recalled the Sanskrit Buddhist scriptures he had read before and realized that it was not the same kind of characters. He also remembered many daoist scriptures he had read within the Infatuation Daoist Temple and concluded that it was not one of those writings either.
The middle-aged daoist murmured, "Not here."
After reaching this conclusion, the middle-aged daoist smiled slightly.
A white sheet of paper floated in the air. He looked at the inscriptions on the cliff, and some cinnabar ink appeared in the air. He dipped his fingers in it and began drawing in the air. Soon, many characters appeared on the white paper, exactly matching the inscriptions on the cliff.
Soon, the paper was full of words.
The middle-aged daoist reached out and held the sheet of paper, then his figure disappeared with a flash.
It turned out that within this white mist, he still possessed his cultivation.
More and more cultivators died in the cemetery. Now, there were not many left.
Those who remained were disciples of major sects, relying on the magic artifacts from their sects to persevere.