Matters That Baffled Them
While Feng Xuanzhi and the others were recuperating, three figures stood beneath a massive boulder somewhere in the Dragon Severing Mountain Range, looking somewhat disheveled beneath the dim twilight.
The gloomy surroundings concealed their faces, but the silence—broken only by their uneven breathing—made the heavy, oppressive atmosphere unmistakable.
After glancing behind them and confirming no one had caught up, Ji Xiu simply sat down and gulped in great breaths of air.
He was in poor shape. Inside the formation, he had used the most powerful move he could manage at his current cultivation level, the Great Desolate Withered Bone Hand, to deal with that ice-blue dragon.
It had consumed an enormous amount of his spiritual power, but thankfully, he had managed to drive that person back. That gave the others a chance to escape.
Seeing him stop, Rong Huan gave up fleeing as well. He leaned against the boulder and closed his eyes to rest. Only Zuo Zixin remained standing motionless, staring up at the darkened sky. After a long while, he finally asked in a low voice, "Senior Brother, did Mu Zhuo and the others all die there?"
Rong Huan's brow creased slightly. His lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing. His already troubled heart grew even heavier.
As the one in overall command of this operation, he found the outcome unbearably cruel.
Not only had the mission failed, but so many of their companions had perished—young disciples, each one at the Spirit Soul Realm or even higher. Nearly all of them had been raised by the Mo Fu Clan with every resource at its disposal. They had been pillars of the future, yet they had sacrificed their lives just like that.
As he fled, he had even found himself wishing he had