Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
Gusts howled through the mountain hollow, sending dry sand and soil rustling across the ground. Sweeping up the slopes, they made the maple forest deep in the woods sway like countless fiery red banners.
Gradually, the air turned cold, and fine threads of rain drifted down from the indistinct clouds and mist hanging in the night sky.
This was perhaps the last autumn rain of the year, ushering late autumn into winter.
The chill deepened. The whistling wind rolled down from the hillside again with biting cold, lifting several fiery red maple leaves and sending them spinning beneath a tree in the mountain hollow.
Suddenly, two sharp gleams flashed from beneath the tree. With two soft chi chi sounds, the maple leaves shattered into fragments and fluttered to the ground.
They were a pair of blood-red eyes, redder even than the flaming maple leaves, terrifyingly ferocious and brimming with dreadful killing intent.
Sitting beneath the tree was a white-haired old man in tattered clothing. Beneath his ruined purple dragon robe, he wore red monk's robes.
Within a radius of five zhang around him, the autumn grass had long since withered. The ground was strewn with the dried corpses of birds, beasts, snakes, and rats, creating an exceptionally horrifying sight.
He was none other than Purple Clad King Jing, who had fled after being defeated in battle by Black Wind Stronghold Master Jiang Dali at the Yuan State border.
His aura was rather chaotic. Although his killing intent was strong, it was clear that the injuries from their earlier battle had not healed. Though he had recovered somewhat by using the Returning Yuan Blood Hand to drain the life force of nearby creatures, he was still extremely weak.
"Powerhouses... This king still needs to find more powerhouses and drain their