The next day.
Wang Yu had packed his things early. In truth, aside from that set of [Blood Mist Spirit Concealment Formation] formation flags, there was nothing much to pack—at most, a little furniture.
At the end of the tiger hour, when day and night were changing places.
Reduced by a third, nearly half the disciples were gathering in the square at the edge of the Spirit Field. When they came, there had been more than eight hundred of them; now, only a little over five hundred remained.
Most of them had died in Ghost Eye Cave, adding a touch of delicacy for the little spiders. A small portion had gone missing, vanishing on the road to Heart Erosion City.
"Junior Brother Wang."
"Senior Brother Situ."
After the two exchanged greetings, they began chatting idly—or rather, it would be more accurate to describe it as flattery mixed with probing.
"I haven't seen you for a stretch of time, and your cultivation has advanced so quickly, Junior Brother Wang. Back when I went to Profound Bone Mountain, it was only after I returned that I broke through to the Qi Refining Ninth Layer. It took nearly six years."
Wang Yu's face showed a bitter look.
"Why must you say that, Senior Brother? You have the aptitude of Three Spiritual Roots, while I have Useless Spiritual Roots. You have hope of Foundation Establishment, while my lifespan is lacking. Forget Foundation Establishment—even whether I can live to fifty is a question. How could we compare?"
Situ Hong smiled awkwardly and immediately changed the subject.
"Is there any explanation for going back early this time? Do you want me to help you find another suitable mission?"
"Forget it. How could I trouble senior brother for help every single time?"
"Helping once is helping; helping