Outside Qinghe Village, a violent surge of mana erupted, crushing swathes of trees like a storm and flinging earth high into the sky.
Within the storm, Wu Ming, Liu Sanlang, and Zhang Miao were linked through the Tri-Origin Formation. With the aid of two pitch-black figures, they exhausted every last ounce of strength to carve open a twisted passage, barely fighting their way out of the tempest. Then they plunged headlong into the mist without looking back.
The group raced onward for several hundred meters before finally slowing to a halt, only after the shockwaves swept up by the storm had completely faded.
Everyone was pale and weak. Their hearts and dantians tightened in waves, clear signs that both their mana and vital blood were nearing exhaustion.
"That was close..."
A moment later, Wu Ming finished regulating his breath and spoke first with a sigh.
"...It really was." Still shaken, Liu Sanlang said, "Good thing Brother Wu specifically went to wake up Sister He Lu."
Beside the three little ones, He Lu, shrouded from head to toe in black mist, heard herself mentioned and dipped her head slightly, as though apologizing.
Wu Ming said, "Sister He Lu, there's no need to apologize. My plan was flawed. I never expected talk therapy to backfire like this."
Not long ago, Wu Ming had tried to probe the old scholar of Qinghe through talk therapy, only for everything to come crashing down in one catastrophic wave. Fortunately, for the sake of safety, he had gone to Qingjing Lake and awakened He Lu before venturing deeper into the second level. That was the only reason they had escaped safely.
Yet the cause of this aberration was truly baffling.
Before this, Wu Ming had absorbed the old scholar's echoes several times and gained a rough