The instant he handed over the firestarter, Chen Wuya had already turned and strode away. The metallic clatter of joints deep within the passage grew denser, like iron chains dragging across stone grooves, or some mechanism gradually being awakened. He did not look back, but his steps abruptly halted at the corner—beyond the observation slit ahead, the open ground where the black-robed figures had been kneeling was now filled with thick smoke.
Boom!
A tremendous blast erupted from the upper levels of the ancient castle, shaking dust loose throughout the entire passage. Chen Wuya pressed his back against the stone wall, his heart sinking. This was no natural collapse—it was a deliberate explosion. Then came a second blast, followed by a third, each spaced with precise timing. They were clearly cutting off the retreat routes.
He suddenly remembered that Bai Zhi was still near the high platform.
He drove off the ground, reverse-flow true qi rampaging through his meridians. The Misaligned Practice Connects to Spirit system instantly classified it as "nonstandard rapid movement," then reverse-completed the circulation route, allowing him to streak through the narrow passage like a sliding shadow. The moment he rushed back into the main hall, he saw a wall of fire surge up from the floor, cleaving the stone stairs in two. The flames burned blue-green, their edges reeking foully. It was lamp oil mixed with poison powder and set alight.
Bai Zhi and two veteran soldiers were trapped on the other side, crouching low to evade a volley of arrows. The shafts shot from hidden holes high above at vicious angles, clearly following trajectories laid out in advance.
"Get down!" Chen Wuya roared.
Before the words had faded, three arrows grazed past Bai Zhi's hair and embedded themselves in a stone pillar. She looked up