The tremors beneath the ground continued for a moment, as though some structure had fractured deep below. Chen Wuya's palm stirred slightly. The golden thread that had once wandered beneath his skin gave a faint tremble, then sank into his meridians. The system operated soundlessly, breaking the shockwaves into several streams of information—rock strata displacement, mechanism collapse, non-living objects in motion, no immediate threat.
He slowly withdrew his hand, his fingertips dusted with bits of crushed stone.
Bai Zhi had already leaped onto the cliff wall, her figure skimming over the scorched slope as her toes touched down beside several lingering footprints. She crouched and gently brushed the ground with her fingers, her brows faintly furrowed. The marks varied in depth; some dragged crookedly along, while others surged forward in haste. They seemed chaotic, yet faintly pointed toward a hidden trail along the northern ridge.
"This wasn't a rout." Her low voice drifted back into the valley on the wind. "They withdrew in batches. Someone stayed behind to cover them."
Mo Feng stood beside the remnants of the formation on the western side, a bronze compass in his hand swaying constantly. Fine runes covered its face. He narrowed his eyes at the needle's movement, then suddenly raised a hand to press the catch on its rim and gave it a light twist. The compass clicked softly as the gears within meshed anew. The needle abruptly steadied, pointing straight toward the Northern Desert.
"There were no self-detonation triggers buried among the blood corpse remains." He put away the compass, his tone easing slightly. "At least this patch of ground won't suddenly blow apart."
Chen Wuya nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on where Tuoba Lie had stood moments ago. Only a saber scar remained there, cleaving into the rock to a