The barrier of the Inner Layer's ward felt icy to the touch, utterly different from that of the Outer Layer.
The instant they crossed the barrier, every sound of wind around them and every distant footstep of the patrols was cut off.
Whether it had always been like this or some uncanny incident had occurred, they felt as though they had stepped into a patch of deathly silence sealed airtight.
Whenever the passing patrols in the distance reached the edge of this area, they instinctively changed direction and took a detour, keeping far away. No one wanted to spare this deathly silent clearing another glance.
There was no bone-piercing chill of demonic energy in the air. Instead, a stifling heat hung over them, weighing faintly on their chests.
Wisps of pale red mist drifted lazily through the clearing, neither surging nor roiling, so docile they seemed almost harmless.
Yet the more harmless they seemed, the more they chilled the heart.
Qin Zhenggang stopped abruptly and gave a grave warning in a lowered voice.
"Everyone, hold your breath. Wrap every part of your flesh, meridians, and sea of consciousness in true essence."
"Don't touch even a trace of this red mist. Contact means mutation. No one is to gamble on their luck."
The red mist lacked the violent ferocity that eroded flesh, but it could silently tug at the surrounding currents of energy, making the flow of spiritual power sluggish and distorted.
A lone, plain-colored tent stood in the center of the clearing ahead. Its canvas was dark, its corners stretched taut and fastened firmly to the ground, concealing everything inside.
The two Inner Layer soldiers who had guided them stopped a hundred feet from the tent and refused to take another step forward.
An apprehension they could scarcely conceal lurked