In the end, the cultivators still failed to discuss a satisfactory result.
But giving up halfway was definitely out of the question.
Once the bow was drawn, there was no turning back. After going through so much hardship and finally reaching the depths of the Cold Soul Ice Plain, how could they simply abandon it for nothing?
Besides, Lin Xuan's words made sense. The changes among the Demon Race might bring them even greater danger, but they might also make this trip go even more smoothly than they had originally expected.
In short, everything was still an unknown number. To talk of withdrawing now was still far too early.
Of course, for the journey that followed, the cultivators would certainly be far more attentive than before. Not only did they put more effort into concealing themselves and restraining their auras, they also took turns fully releasing their divine sense to guard against any unforeseen mishap.
Just like that, another two days passed, and they still encountered nothing amiss. Counting it up, only five or six days of travel remained before they reached their destination.
Everyone let out a breath of relief. It seemed that this time, their luck really was quite good. Although they did not know what changes had occurred among the Demon Race, nine times out of ten, it was something favorable to them.
Though they still did not let down their guard, the expressions of the cultivators had clearly relaxed somewhat.
Yet just at that moment, an abrupt change arose.
Lin Xuan's figure slowed, and he actually stopped his escaping light.
The others could not help but be startled, and they also stopped with faces full of astonishment.
"Fellow Daoist Lin, what is it?" The voice of the old man surnamed Fan entered their ears, carrying a