On the flying boat, Lin Fan felt somewhat restless. He turned to look at Sun Shuqin, who was staring blankly toward the Blood Demon Sect, her eyes vacant.
She wore a green dress. Her waist was slender, and she was still as mature and alluring as ever, but the lively, enchanting air she once possessed was gone, leaving her looking so silent and wooden.
Lin Fan shook his head, then looked at the sect disciple piloting the flying boat. "Senior Brother, how much longer until we arrive?"
"Master Ruan told me that Madam's home is in Zhengyang City, over six hundred li from the sect. With my cultivation driving the flying boat, it'll still take a full day."
This Black Robe Disciple was precisely the person who had gone to the Hidden Scripture Pavilion to summon Lin Fan.
"Then I'll have to trouble you, Senior Brother."
Lin Fan spoke.
"It's my honor to do something for Master Ruan."
He grinned, focusing on piloting the flying boat and no longer engaging Lin Fan in conversation.
The sun sank in the west.
The mountain wind howled.
"The Blood Mist only surged up from the bottom of the cliff a few days ago. How has it surged up again already?"
"And the fog is so thick—several times denser than usual."
Inside a cliffside dwelling, a Menial Disciple lay crouched before a crack, muttering uneasily.
He had been here for two or three years, yet he had never seen such dense Blood Mist. Looking out with the naked eye, he could barely make out anything within a range of one or two meters.
Blood Soul Peak.
The disciple on night watch had been nodding off, but he suddenly jolted awake. Not far away, red mist roiled, climbing up the stone steps layer