The night was deep.
The snow was still falling.
Qian Feng led his grand army to the northeastern part of the Dark Wind Hills.
Just ahead was the west bank of the middle reaches of the Hong River Basin; crossing it would bring them to the Wind Shelter Valley.
Until this moment, he had not received a reply from Ye Yuqiao's Nether Soul Body. And tomorrow would be the last day of the three-day deadline.
Although returning to the Wind Shelter Valley would allow them to avoid the pursuit of the ten-thousand-strong Ghost King Battalion behind them, he had no intention of going back there. To him, going back to the Wind Shelter Valley was equivalent to waiting for death: without their restraint, the five major families would be annihilated by the Ghost King Battalion, and then they would become the next target of the Ghost King Battalion.
