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High winds swept through the clouds, and falling leaves fluttered like gold foil.
In the northwestern mountains during autumn, the hills were alive with the bustling activity of the year—the wild beasts exerted all their efforts to gather reserves for the winter, hunters prepared for the grand hunt before the snow, mountain runners collected ripe medicinal herbs, and farmers were busy with the final autumn harvest.
On these normally deserted mountains in the northwest, an additional group had appeared, tense and eagerly searching for clues and traces of someone's whereabouts.
An Jing held his breath, concealed his aura, and Sword Spirit's protection enshrouded him.
The youth lay hidden among the branches of a giant tree, coldly observing several martial artists from the Heaven's Will Demon Sect as they scrutinized the area where he had previously lingered.
The first to catch up with An Jing was not Da Chen, nor the Heavenly Demon, but the Heaven's Will Demon Sect.
