75: Chapter 75 Zhu Guo

Over the next few days, the forest began to change.

It did not change all at once; it changed bit by bit.

First, the density of the tree canopy began to decrease, and the area where sunlight could filter through grew larger and larger.

Then, the layer of decaying leaves on the ground thinned out; stepping on it no longer felt like sinking softly up to the ankles, but rather, one could feel the hard rocky foundation underneath.

Later on, the bushes began to shorten, dead grass became more abundant, and the forest grew increasingly sparse.

Traces of Yao Beasts were also decreasing.

Previously, every few hundred steps, one could see animal bones, excrement, or fur rubbed off from scratching in the piles of decaying leaves; now, one had to walk several miles to find a single fresh trace.

But the most obvious signal was that the sound of birds had returned.

I don't know from which day it began, but waking up in the morning, one could hear the chirping of thrushes in the forest, the tap-tap-tap sound of woodpeckers knocking on tree trunks, and the long, distant cries of apes.

That oppressive feeling, as if something had frightened all sound into silence, had dissipated without one even realizing it.

Jiang Yan knew what this meant—he was about to walk out of the Manghuang Mountains.

The decrease in bird calls and traces of Yao Beast activity indicated that there was no territory covered by large predatory Yao Beasts nearby.

The core area of the Manghuang Mountains was occupied by Foundation Establishment Yao Beasts, and the further out one went, the lower the grade of the Yao Beasts.

When even the traces of Late Stage Rank 1 Yao Beasts became rare, it meant he was approaching the edge of the mountains and was about to enter the activity range of human Cultivators.

The thirty-third day, noon.

He was walking on a mountain ridge.

On both sides of the ridge were steep, gravelly slopes covered in sparse, stunted pines, their branches twisted and blown in one direction by the mountain wind.

At the end of the ridge was a cliff, and below the cliff was an open valley—unlike the Rhino Valley he had encountered before, there were no Yao Beasts in this valley.

But he stopped.

It was not because there were no Yao Beasts in the valley, but because there were people in the valley.

His Divine Sense captured two spiritual energy fluctuations at the edge of his eight-and-a-half-zhang range.

Both were in the Qi Refinement Stage; one was Qi Refining Level 6, and the other was Qi Refining Stage 5.

Both fluctuations were moving rapidly, one after the other, flying from the west side of the valley to the east.

Jiang Yan's pupils contracted slightly.

Encountering Cultivators here, and two Middle Stage Qi Refining Cultivators at that—this meant he had already entered the peripheral area of the cultivation forces.

Outside the mountains, there were likely cultivation markets or Sect strongholds.

He did not rush to reveal himself.

The Great Art of Changing Heaven and Earth's technique for concealing aura operated silently within his body; all overflowing spiritual energy fluctuations were retracted into his Dantian, the luster of spiritual energy on his skin faded, and in terms of Divine Sense perception, he became a stone with no spiritual energy reaction.

His figure silently swept down the cliff, landing behind a stunted pine, and he peered into the valley under the cover of the pine branches.

He heard voices.

"Liu Yuan! Hand over the Zhu Fruit, and I will spare your life!"

The voice was hoarse with uncontrollable anger, the tone rough, like sandpaper grinding against an iron plate.

Before the shout in the valley had fully faded, the echo bounced back and forth between the mountain walls on both sides.

Jiang Yan crouched behind the stunted pine, looking down through the gaps in the pine branches.

Two people came flying from the west side of the valley, one after the other.

The one running in front had a thin and small figure, wearing a grey, Low Grade Rank 1 Dharma robe.

The hem of the robe flapped loudly in the airflow whipped up by the Wind Control Technique; the left sleeve was torn from the shoulder to the elbow, and the edges of the tear were stained with scorch marks from a fire-type Spell.

Beneath the scorch marks, one could vaguely see a wound that was still oozing blood; beads of blood dripped down the arm, coagulating into red dots at the fingertips, which were flung onto the gravel behind him.

This person must be Liu Yuan, Qi Refining Stage 5.

His use of the Wind Control Technique was hasty; with every step, the soles of his boots slid several inches on the gravel, and his figure stumbled slightly, as if he might topple over at any moment.

His forehead was covered in sweat that flowed down his temples into his collar, and his lips were white, devoid of any color.

The person chasing behind had a much burlier build.

With a broad back and thick waist, his shoulders were as wide as a door panel; he was also wearing a Low Grade Rank 1 Dharma robe, but his spiritual energy fluctuations were a notch stronger than Liu Yuan's.

A faint golden phantom of a chain was wrapped around this person's right ankle, the residual effect of some kind of binding Spell.

With every step he took, the chain phantom would tighten abruptly, digging so deeply into the fabric of his robe at the ankle that the skin underneath was bruised a purplish-blue.

However, that chain phantom was fading at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The faint golden light flowing on the chain flickered slower and slower, like a candle burning to the end, and it would completely dissipate in, at most, half a cup of tea's time.

Qi Refining Level 6, Chen Feng.

The distance between the two was constantly shrinking.

Although Chen Feng was hindered by the Spell on his foot, his cultivation was one level higher than Liu Yuan's, his spiritual energy was deeper, and the speed of his Wind Control Technique was steadily superior to Liu Yuan's by a notch.

Chen Feng held a Medium Grade Rank 1 Flying Sword in his right hand.

The blade was long, narrow, and pale cyan; wind-attribute spiritual energy circulated along the spine of the sword, forming a thin layer of air blade that made a faint hissing sound as it cut through the air.

On his left cheek was a fresh wound still oozing blood, running diagonally from his temple to his jaw; the edges were jagged and the flesh was curled, left by being hit head-on by some kind of wood-thorn Spell.

His left eye was swollen shut, leaving only a slit, and the whites of his eyes were full of bloodshot veins.

"Liu Yuan! Hand over the Zhu Fruit, and I will spare your life!"

Chen Feng's voice exploded in the valley.

The tone was rough, like sandpaper grinding against an iron plate, with uncontrollable anger mixed into the tail end of his voice.

Liu Yuan did not answer.

He suddenly shifted horizontally to the left, the Wind Control Technique under his feet exploding with a crisp sound.

Gravel was sent scattering by the air wave, and his figure skirted around a granite rock two people high, thereby briefly breaking free from the locking range of Chen Feng's Flying Sword.

When he circled behind the rock, his right hand reached into his Storage Pouch and grabbed a handful of dark green powder, scattering it behind him.

The powder turned into a thick cloud of green poisonous mist in the air.

Countless tiny insect shadows could be vaguely seen wriggling in the mist, and the sound of wings rubbing together was as dense as rainfall.

Wherever the poisonous mist passed, the surface of the gravel was corroded with dense, tiny holes, and a pungent, foul stench rose up.

This was disposable insect poison powder.

It was a common underhanded tactic used by Loose Cultivators; the grade was not high, but it was effective because it was insidious.

After inhalation, the poisonous insects would parasitize and breed on the inner walls of the Meridians, and if not purged in time, they could chew the Meridians into a sieve.

Chen Feng snorted coldly.

He slapped out a cyan Gale Technique with his left palm.

A gale surged from his palm, blowing the poisonous mist back.

The dark green mist was torn into several wisps by the wind pressure, drifting toward the mountain wall, where it hit the rock face with a hissing, corrosive sound.

But when he cast the Spell, the chain phantom on his foot tightened abruptly.

The faint golden chain twisted into his flesh like a living snake, causing him to grunt in pain, and his figure paused in mid-air.

It was just this pause that allowed Liu Yuan to open up a distance of several zhang that Chen Feng had worked so hard to close.