The scent of flames still drifted through the air. Wisps of green smoke continually spread up from the ground.
Duan Fang slowly crouched down and, at the bottom of what had once been a lake but was now a massive crater, reached out and lightly pinched up some fine soil.
He put the soil into his mouth and chewed it.
"This flame... tastes strange."
"What's strange about it?" Bai Ze asked quietly from not far away. He knew that Fu Fengzi's son, Duan Fang, was far more professional than himself, so leaving this sort of tracking to him was no problem.
"I've never tasted a flame like this before. Of the ten great flames between heaven and earth, I've tasted the lingering traces of nine, but I have no recollection of this one." Duan Fang frowned in puzzlement.
"Could it be the last one?"
"Impossible. The last one is highly concentrated, pure Sun True Flame. I haven't tasted it only because even its remnants would burn my tongue away completely." Duan Fang shook his head.
He rose to his feet and looked around.
"Judging from the remaining traces, Uncle Ying Zhao should have come here before and fought someone on this former lake. In the end, the other side failed to keep Uncle Ying Zhao here, and he broke free from their ambush."
"That does seem to be the case." Bai Ze nodded. Based on the traces left behind, Duan Fang's judgment matched that of the demon immortals who had tracked the scene earlier.
"But..." Duan Fang's brows furrowed tightly. "After Uncle Ying Zhao broke free of the ambush, he should already have escaped a great distance. With his strength and realm, what kind of treasure could, from so far away, do this to him...?"
He could not understand it.