The dimensional rift was narrowing by the second. Fengyun Wuji hastened his pace, darting toward the exit. Gu Yuetian and the others had already vanished ahead. With a swift leap, Fengyun Wuji passed through the now barely waist-high opening—and the world suddenly opened up before him.
A familiar scent hit his nostrils. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his heart stirring.
"I've finally come back."
Kill!
A sudden cacophony of battle cries erupted in his ears, followed by the piercing screech of crossbow bolts tearing through the air. The sky filled with the dense hum of arrows being loosed. Alarmed, Fengyun Wuji opened his eyes and saw chaos below—two opposing armies locked in brutal combat. The ground was awash with blood and broken oars, and from both flanks, endless waves of arrows flew like locusts across the battlefield. Unfortunately, he was directly above the center of this bloody clash.
As the rain of arrows surged toward him, Fengyun Wuji suddenly spread his arms wide. His long hair streamed behind him, robes billowing in the wind. With a single command—"Stop!"—the countless arrows halted mid-air as though frozen in time. With a flick of his palms, the sea of bolts scattered outward and vanished into the sky.
His cold gaze swept across the battlefield. Everything had fallen still. Soldiers from both sides, moments ago locked in life-or-death struggle, stood frozen in awe, staring upward with stunned expressions. Fengyun Wuji paid them no mind. His eyes passed over the soldiers and landed on an opulent chariot behind the right flank. There sat a bearded, middle-aged man with a regal crown and piercing eyes, his gaze locked on Fengyun Wuji.
"A god…"
Murmurs of reverence spread across the battlefield. One by one, soldiers dropped to their knees. A wind blew from the south, heavy with the stench of blood. Unmoved by the mortals below, Fengyun Wuji glanced southward, then took flight, vanishing in an instant.
Once the battlefield was far behind, a troubling thought struck him. Where is Gu Yuetian? Leng Ruoshuang? Mo Liye? They had exited before him—why hadn't he seen them?
He was about to turn back but hesitated. It would be too conspicuous. Better to rely on divine sense. Spreading his consciousness, he scanned the area within a ten-thousand-mile radius. To his dismay, there was no trace of the three. Given their strength after centuries of cultivation in the Primeval Dimension, they should have stood out even among powerful warriors. Yet, no matter how many times he searched, there was nothing. At last, he had to give up.
The rift must have shifted… again, he mused.
Still, Fengyun Wuji wasn't anxious. They were only scattered; they would reunite in time. For now, the priority was preventing isolated ascensions. The ascended ones had to stay together, ascend together, or Heaven might exploit a loophole in its promises.
As he pondered, he flew swiftly through the skies. In the blink of an eye, a small city appeared on the horizon. His heart lifted with anticipation, but just as he was about to descend, the scent of blood reached him. His brow furrowed, and he descended toward its source.
A vast green mountain came into view, its peaks veiled in mist. At the base, a narrow path wide enough for a single carriage wound past a few ancient trees and climbed the slope. Following the deep ruts left by carriage wheels, Fengyun Wuji walked upward toward the shrouded peak. Before long, he saw a splash of blood along the track.
Just a few paces ahead, a mangled corpse lay crushed beneath fallen stones. Blood had pooled beneath the rocks, now dark and half-coagulated. Further on, a man in a blue-and-white martial uniform lay sprawled by a pile of debris, terror frozen on his face. A spear had impaled him completely, pinning his body to the ground.
The deeper he went, the more corpses he encountered. On one side of the narrow path loomed a sheer cliff, on the other a fog-wrapped precipice. Sword scars marred the rocks, and tattered banners from various sects jutted at odd angles from the earth. A black carriage clung to a twisted pine near the edge of the cliff, its frame shattered. One wheel lay nearby, and the yoke had long since broken. From within the damaged curtain, a pale, bloodstained arm reached out.
More corpses littered the trail ahead. Broken swords and shattered blades lay everywhere. Banners from different martial clans marked each segment of the path. Fengyun Wuji imagined the fierce melee that must have occurred—blood spilled, bodies heaped. Eventually, the trail ended at a bottomless chasm, wreathed in mist and wind. On the far side, another peak loomed faintly in the distance.
He released a surge of divine sense, sweeping the hundred-mile radius. Below the cliff, corpses in varying martial garb had been smashed to pulp, their features unrecognizable. Between the cliffs, hidden beneath the mist, a thick iron chain connected the two edges. Ordinary eyes would have missed it, but not Fengyun Wuji's.
He stepped forward lightly. The iron chain trembled beneath his feet, but he walked as if on solid ground. Even the howling wind on both sides didn't sway his balance.
After a few steps, something caught his attention. He crouched down. Between the iron loops of the chain was a severed arm wedged into the gap. Nearby, a stiff, deep-gray bristle was caught between the metal links. Fengyun Wuji plucked the coarse hair out and studied it in the light.
This… isn't from a human or ordinary beast, he thought, puzzled. Could it be some strange creature captured for entertainment by the gathering clans?
Up ahead, the mist began to clear. Distant lights shimmered in the haze. With a light tap of his foot, Fengyun Wuji shot forward like an arrow, racing toward the source of the lights...