A warm breeze occasionally passed through the ravine, and Feng Ge felt as though she had fallen into a ten-thousand-year-old ice cellar.
She leaned against Luo Zheng, her Yang Soul trembling faintly as she gazed into the depths of the ravine. "L-Luo Zheng... what exactly was that just now?"
"The tentacles of something we don't know," Luo Zheng replied.
"Then... why didn't it take us away?" Feng Ge asked again.
Her usually icy voice carried a tremor. Even when she had encountered danger on the wooden bridge, Feng Ge had never revealed such emotion. Hearing it, Luo Zheng felt a pang of pity. This time, the girl had truly been frightened.
"I don't know either. Maybe it thought we weren't worth taking," Luo Zheng said.
In their present situation, they had no choice but to leave it to fate. Luo Zheng's mind had instead calmed down, but Feng Ge, who was experiencing something like this for the first time, was somewhat at a loss.
"Let's leave this place," Feng Ge said again. She did not want to stay here for another moment.
"What about those Black Monkeys outside? Have they left?" Luo Zheng asked.
Feng Ge took a look and shook her head in dejection. "They're still guarding the entrance..."
"Then there's our answer."
As he spoke, Luo Zheng struggled to climb up from the ground.
After resting for a while, he had recovered a little of his strength—at least enough to prop himself up into a sitting position.
"You're all right?" Feng Ge asked in surprise.
When she saw Luo Zheng collapse, Feng Ge had truly been at her wits' end. Although Luo Zheng had forced himself to crawl back up, she faintly felt hope return.
She appeared cold and independent, but deep down, she was extremely dependent on