Chapter 95: Facing Peril Once More

Chu Feng knew well that it would take at least a day or two for him to fully recover. But he felt no urgency now; upon reflection, it seemed the East King still had no inkling of the annihilation of his hundred soldiers, and even if he found out, truly locating this place within the vast Ten-Thousand Mountains would take at least a month or two.

With his strength restored, Chu Feng dug a deep pit and buried the bodies of the hundred soldiers, unwilling to leave them exposed to the wilderness. In truth, he bore little hatred for these men—they were merely following orders, and Chu Feng had slain them only out of necessity.

As for how the East King would deal with their corpses later, it was no longer Chu Feng's concern. He simply did all he could, striving to act with a clear conscience.

After burying the bodies, Chu Feng found a nearby pool to bathe, washing away the blood that clung to him. To be honest, he had not bathed in over half a year, ever since his flight began.

For once, Chu Feng allowed himself to relax—there was no better moment than now. Even if the East King sent more troops, Chu Feng now possessed the means to contend with them.

He dried his hair and underclothes in the sun, then donned his Violet Robe of War, only then realizing it was no longer as loose as it once had been.

It had been nearly ten months since he left the Holy City. Now, he was over eighteen, and in these ten months he had grown considerably taller without noticing. His figure was upright, his height nearly equal to Mo Xuan's; he now looked every bit the handsome young man, though the Violet Robe of War had grown somewhat small.

Each day, Chu Feng left a mark on a wooden plaque, making it easier to keep track of time.

He calculated roughly that there were about four months left until the Holy Trial. The situation was far better than he had once anticipated. With his greatly increased strength and an ample supply of Restoration Pills, four months would be more than enough for Chu Feng to return to the Spirit War Pavilion.

He consulted his map and, after some thought, determined a safer route. Naturally, he would not retrace his steps—that would be far too perilous.

He decided not to venture deeper into the Ten-Thousand Mountains. Instead, he would head west, circling around, and once out of the range, continuing westward would put him directly north of the Holy City. From there, he could travel south to return.

Compared to the direction of his arrival, this route would be much longer, but it was undoubtedly safer, and Chu Feng was confident he could make it back in time.

Over the next two days, Chu Feng's pace was relatively slow, as his body had not yet fully recovered.

During this time, he paused to practice his sword technique.

This was his first time training with eyes open since his spiritual sense had broken through. Chu Feng's spiritual intent spread through the void, resonating mysteriously with heaven and earth.

Now, at last, he could see with his own eyes the faint mist clinging to his sword.

Under the external perception of spiritual intent, color could not be distinguished—everything appeared in black and white. But now, Chu Feng truly beheld the mist.

The mist was actually white, like a faint fog, wrapping around the blade in a thin layer.

Chu Feng realized this white mist was formed from gathered spiritual energy. This puzzled him somewhat, for he knew he could not cultivate; these energies must have been drawn to the sword through his comprehension of the "Sword Dao".

Moreover, this spiritual energy was distinctly different from ordinary energies. It possessed a mysterious power, empowering the sword, elevating Chu Feng's combat strength beyond the early sixth rank of Earthly Spirit Warrior.

In Chu Feng's view, now, even without using his spiritual sense, he could face mid-level sixth rank Earthly Spirit Warriors in broad daylight.

His days of flight had been fraught with peril, but the final rewards were immense—one hundred storage pouches from sixth rank Earthly Spirit Warriors had fallen into Chu Feng's hands. Without even checking, he knew this was an enormous fortune.

After these two days, Chu Feng's body was fully recovered. He moved swiftly—almost as fast as when exerting himself to the limit.

He travelled with a Restoration Pill always in his mouth, replenishing as he consumed, keeping his stamina in balance and never needing to rest from exhaustion.

Maintaining such a state consumed Restoration Pills, but Chu Feng had no worries; with a hundred storage pouches, even if each held only one or two bottles, he’d still have a hundred or two hundred bottles—enough to use freely.

Though there were exotic beasts along the way, Chu Feng did not linger. He wanted to leave, and these beasts could not catch him now.

He pressed on day and night, and the next twenty days passed peacefully. But one midday, Chu Feng ran into trouble.

He was traversing mountains, and as he leapt atop one, he found his body sinking into the earth.

His heart sank; his feet felt no support, and soon half his body was swallowed by the soil.

Startled, Chu Feng struggled desperately, but it was useless—no matter how strong he was, he could not find purchase.

The soil seemed real, yet felt as insubstantial as illusion under his hands.

He had not expected that so soon after escaping danger, he would stumble into another crisis.

Yet there was nothing he could do but strive to remain calm.

Soon, it was as if the mountain had devoured him.

Submerged in darkness, Chu Feng felt himself falling through emptiness, until, at last, with a bang, his feet landed upon stone.

Feeling solid ground beneath him, Chu Feng was relieved, but he remained vigilant, gripping his Domain-Suppressing Sword tightly.

He could not tell if he was inside the mountain, for he doubted the hill was truly a hill.

“Could I have stumbled upon a ruin?” he murmured. The darkness was unnaturally thick—even with his exceptional eyesight, he could not see anything.

He sent out his spiritual sense instantly.

His intent enveloped two hundred yards, yet he found no boundary—the place was larger than he’d imagined.

The ground was strewn not only with stones, but also with massive bones—the remains of exotic beasts.

From their state, these bones had lain here for ages, mere skeletons now.

“It seems this area is enshrouded by a profound barrier. I had no inkling before I fell in,” Chu Feng thought, growing ever more wary. With so many beasts dead here, it was clear escaping would not be easy.

The darkness was overwhelming; Chu Feng was grateful for his powerful spiritual sense, for without it, he could not detect danger even beneath his feet.

He picked his way across the stones, choosing a direction at random, and after a while sensed a pit ahead.

The pit was neither large nor deep, but what made Chu Feng’s heart tremble was that inside lay a person—or rather, something resembling a person.

The armor on the figure was battered, and his face bore scales. Even with eyes closed, he was unsettling to behold.

In his right hand was a broken blade, and in his left, he seemed to clutch something.

A chill ran through Chu Feng; he sensed ill omen. This man with scales was surely a demon.

Chu Feng did not approach, but observed closely. The demon seemed lifeless, covered in dust, evidently dead for a long time.

Perhaps the body had once been powerful, for it showed no signs of decay.

Chu Feng surmised the demon must have fought a human expert, resulting in broken blade and shattered armor.

But the demon had fled here, laying a barrier to hide his tracks, only to succumb to his grievous wounds and perish.

“Should I go over?” Chu Feng was intrigued by what the man held, but hesitant. He felt certain the demon had been formidable, and though dead, could have set traps before dying.

While he hesitated, a chill crept up his back—a vast sense of danger.

In the next instant, his heart thudded with dread, as his spiritual sense detected a figure fifty yards behind him.

Chu Feng’s spiritual sense covered two hundred yards, able to detect even the slightest detail, yet he had not noticed how this man had appeared.

What shocked him most was that the figure was identical to the one lying in the pit.

But this one was far more sinister, his blood-red eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Chu Feng, making his skin crawl.

Chu Feng’s mind raced with doubts—could the demon not be dead?

But the cold corpse in the pit was clear proof otherwise.

“Ha ha ha, a hundred years—it’s been a hundred years, and finally someone has come!” A voice suddenly echoed in Chu Feng’s mind.

He realized, with some alarm, that the sinister figure had not spoken aloud, but was perceived through his spiritual sense.

“I understand now—the demon is dead, and this sinister figure is a remnant of his spiritual intent, capable of independent existence.” Chu Feng was startled; he remembered learning in the Celestial Battalion’s library that only Holy Spirit Warriors could leave behind such a spiritual remnant.

Could it be that the demon had once been a Holy Spirit Warrior?

Chu Feng had not anticipated such an outcome. Having stumbled into this place by chance, he now faced real danger.

He turned to face the sinister figure, unsure of its intentions, but a deep unease gnawed at him—he sensed something terrible was about to happen.

The demon’s face twisted into a cruel smile as he strode toward Chu Feng, who suddenly found himself unable to move.

“Human, your body shall be mine for now!” A cold, indifferent voice echoed once more in Chu Feng’s mind.