Having temporarily resolved the crisis around the camp, he ordered the Dan Chi Clan's second-in-command to take responsibility for watching over this elite force.
Without looking back, Meng Zhao followed the trail left behind by Flood Dragon Little Nine.
He was deeply pressed for time. He did not have much time to linger in the mountains; he had to complete the task as soon as possible, win Si Peng's approval, and then take part in Su Hongtu's Evil Weapon Limit Break ritual.
Chasing the wind and racing the moon, his movement technique flashed like lightning. In the darkness, he was like a ghost from beneath the Nine Netherworlds, silently slipping more than a hundred zhang away in an instant. Wherever his technique swept past, it often stirred up surging gusts of force.
Rushing at full speed, he soon arrived in a stretch of level mountain ground, bordered by cliffs on three sides and looking exceedingly perilous.
Only the eastern side was covered in a vast forest, its trees tall and sturdy. Even amid the bitter cold and snowstorms, they displayed tenacious vitality.
Under the moonlight, they were a deathly white, like divine pillars rising straight into the heavens.
Meng Zhao's stealth technique had been created through repeated refinement and deduction, even drawing upon the methods of Grandmaster-level experts. Its capabilities were therefore exceptionally high.
His arrival caused not the slightest ripple. Only Flood Dragon Little Nine, likewise concealed underground, learned of it through their spiritual contract.
It slowly swam over to Meng Zhao's waist, affectionately rubbing its flood dragon head against his chest.
A Pure-blooded Flood Dragon that had already entered the Innate Realm, a king among ferocious beasts whose original body was enormous beyond compare, was now currying favor with Meng Zhao like a pet. It was a legend