An expanse of a forest was latticed in mist.
Where was the path of return? One searched near and far but could not find the right way.
It was immensely cold during the night. The mountains had unknowingly been covered in mists, and the forest was desolate while the small paths were empty.
Ou Yangming was agile as he dashed forward like a ghost. His journey was lonely. When he stood at the peak and looked into the distance, the forest hand turned into a boundless black arc that connected with the dark sky and crept far away.
He held the Blood Condensation Spear tightly and glided down along the cliff.
When he traveled on the short and difficult mountain path, his knees fell into dried leaves with every step he took.
Ou Yangming darted, but his location was already spotted by this group of followers.
