Early the next morning, Lu Chen headed to the back mountain again.
The pits on the wasteland were still there, scattered here and there as though something had gnawed them out.
He stood beside the largest pit and looked down at its bottom—the surface was smooth and level, without even a single crack.
He raised his right hand, and the wisp of light appeared in his palm again.
After more than ten days of practice, his control over Godslaying had become much more proficient.
At first, he had needed half a day to recover after each use. Now, he could use it three or four times in a row before needing rest.
But the cost was obvious as well—the mark on his right shoulder trembled slightly every time he used Godslaying.
It did not hurt. It was a strange sensation, as if something inside it were waking up.
He drew a deep breath and circulated his true essence once more.
The light sank into the bottom of the pit, and another deep pit appeared.
This time, he paid close attention and stared at his right shoulder. Sure enough, the instant the light left his body, the mark flashed. It was so quick that he would never have noticed if he had not been watching for it.
He frowned, drew back his true essence, and turned to head back.
When he reached the edge of the wasteland, he suddenly stopped.
In the distance stood a figure.
It was not Drunkard. It was a woman in a black robe, her face veiled in black gauze, with only her eyes exposed.
Those eyes were watching him.
Lu Chen did not move. He merely stared at her.
The woman in black did not move either. She simply stood there, separated from him by a