Night fell, and the mountains and forests were shrouded in darkness.
Only sparse moonlight filtered through the layers of branches and leaves, casting dappled and fragmented shadows on the ground.
Fang Han took the lead, his figure moving through the forest like a ghost, with more than ten elite disciples following closely behind, maintaining a distance of about ten feet, so as not to lose them or interfere with the pursuit ahead.
"Buzz--"
With the Greater Accomplishment Perfection of the < Spirit Sniffing Art > fully activated, the complex surrounding aura surged into Fang Han's senses like a tide.
The freshness of grass and trees, the dampness of the soil, the pungent smell of nocturnal animals, the moisture from distant streams—countless scents intertwine to create an incredibly complex olfactory panorama.
What he wanted to capture was the faint, almost non-existent trace left behind by the bandits.
That aura was like a candle flickering in the wind, so faint that it could be extinguished at any moment.
Fang Han dared not relax for a moment, his mind highly focused, like the most precise sieve, filtering, distinguishing, and locking onto the wisp of energy belonging to the murderer from the endless sea of aura.
The dozen or so people behind him remained silent.
Only the faint sound of clothes Break the Wind and the occasional crack of a twig snapping underfoot were clearly audible in the silent forest.
They were all elites of their sects, and they knew what was most important at this moment.
No one would dare to disturb Fang Han at this moment.
Half an hour.
One hour.
Two hours.
Fang Han's steps never stopped.
Although the aura was faint, it could still be barely detected under the perception of Greater Accomplishment < Spirit Sniffing Art >.
However--
Fang Han suddenly stopped in his tracks at a fork in the road.
More than ten people behind him also stopped at the same time, their eyes falling on him.
Fang Han didn't turn around; he just stood there quietly, his brows slightly furrowed.
The breath stopped.
Ahead lies a forked valley, one branch leading northeast and the other due east.
The aura he had been tracking suddenly faded and disappeared completely here.
The reason for this phenomenon is likely that the environment here is open and there are many mountain winds, causing the smell to dissipate faster than in other places.
"Senior Brother Fang?"
A disciple behind him couldn't help but speak in a low voice.
Fang Han raised his right hand, signaling him to be quiet.
He didn't speak, but simply closed his eyes and focused all his energy on the < Spirit Sniffing Art >.
Within that vast sea of energy, two almost identical, faint wisps of energy extended in two different directions, making it difficult for him to distinguish them for a moment.
A moment later, he opened his eyes.
"To the northeast."
Without explanation, he darted off towards the northeast.
More than ten people quickly followed.
However, after chasing for several miles, they still couldn't find any trace of the robbers.
Fang Han stopped in his tracks, his gaze calm and serene.
Without hesitation, he turned around, led the group back, and chased after them in another direction.
This time, after chasing for several miles, they finally caught a whiff of the bandits.
"This way."
Fang Han said in a low voice, without stopping.
The people behind them exchanged glances, all seeing a hint of admiration in each other's eyes.
The bandits who dared to attack Azure Profound Sect's properties must be extraordinary, possessing extremely sophisticated methods of concealing their presence.
They couldn't sense how faint the bandits' presence was, but they could imagine it.
To be able to lock onto the correct direction under these circumstances, Fang Han's tracking skills far exceeded their expectations.
The night grew deeper and deeper.
Mist gradually rose in the mountains and forests, gleaming with a faint, cold light under the moonlight.
Fang Han remained at the forefront, like a tireless hunting dog, relentlessly pursuing that faint, elusive aura.
But he himself gradually became immersed in a mysterious state.
Prolonged and full-force activation of the <Spiritual Spirit Sniffing Art Spirit Sniffing Art > is the best way to cultivate it.
As he continued to activate the < Spirit Sniffing Art >, he vaguely sensed that he was getting closer and closer to the next realm.
The essence of the < Spirit Sniffing Art > flowed through my mind. Those mantras and key points that I had long known by heart became more and more understood and clearer with each full-force practice.
Time slipped away unnoticed as we tracked it.
After an unknown amount of time, a faint glimmer of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon.
The morning light filtered through the branches and leaves, dispelling the darkness in the forest.
Fang Han suddenly stopped.
The people behind him also stopped, their gazes fixed on him, tinged with tension.
Has the breath stopped again?
However, Fang Han did not turn around or return.
He just stood there quietly, his eyes closed.
A moment later--
"Buzz..."
A soft hum, perceptible only to himself, resonated from the depths of his body.
The sound was so faint that it was almost imperceptible, yet it seemed to open an invisible door.
In an instant, the atmosphere of the world around him appeared in his perception with unprecedented clarity.
Those faint scents that were originally difficult to discern were now clearly visible, like fireflies in the night.
The scent left behind by the bandits, which was originally so faint as to be almost non-existent, has now become clear.
He could even vaguely discern the subtle differences in the aura belonging to different individuals—some had vigorous blood and energy, some had a cold and gloomy aura, and some carried a unique herbal scent.
"The Spirit Sniffing Art, Perfection Realm!"
Fang Han opened his eyes, a hint of undisguised joy flashing in them.
He hadn't expected to break through under these circumstances.
This is a good thing; with the Perfection Realm < Spirit Sniffing Art >, he is more confident in tracking down this group of bandits.
"Senior Brother Fang?"
A disciple's voice came from behind, tinged with inquiry.
"It's alright, continue."
Fang Han snapped out of his daze and shook his head slightly.
Without offering any further explanation, he swayed and dashed forward once more.
The people behind him hurriedly followed, but they vaguely sensed that Fang Han's speed seemed to be a little faster than before.
No, it's not just about speed.
And that certainty.
Previously, Fang Han hadn't moved very fast in order to find any remaining scent.
At this moment, his pace quickened noticeably, and he made each turn without hesitation, as if the aura of the bandits was now as clear to him as a main road.
The sun rose higher and then gradually began to set in the west.
Fang Han and his group had been tracking in the mountains for a whole day, only resting for a few hours along the way.
Everyone looked exhausted, but no one asked to rest, because they were all seething with anger.
The next morning.
As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the branches and leaves, the trees in front suddenly became sparse.
Fang Han's steps suddenly stopped.
The people behind him also stopped, their gazes passing over his shoulder and looking ahead.
Ahead, a winding official road can be faintly seen beyond the mountains, and at the end of the road, a huge boundary marker can be faintly seen.
Considering their direction of movement, it's not hard to guess.
East Foothills Prefecture.
The bandits have already escaped from Qingyang Prefecture.
"Senior Brother Fang..."
A disciple behind him spoke in a low voice, his tone hesitant.
Continuing forward, you will enter East Foothills Prefecture.
Entering East Foothills Prefecture means they will be outside the Azure Profound Sect's sphere of influence, and that they will receive no support if they encounter danger.
The danger has increased dramatically.
Fang Han remained silent.
He simply stood there quietly, gazing at the land in front of him that belonged to East Foothills Prefecture.
The crowd behind him remained silent, awaiting his decision.
After a moment, Fang Han spoke, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable firmness.
"Keep chasing."
He didn't turn around, but simply lifted his foot and continued forward.
The people behind them exchanged glances, then followed without further hesitation.
East Foothills Prefecture was an unfamiliar land to them.
But since Fang Han was leading the team, had already made the decision, they would not back down.
Moreover, their deceased fellow disciples are still waiting for them to bring back an explanation.
The sun rose higher and then gradually began to set in the west.
Fang Han and his group moved through the mountains and forests of East Foothills Prefecture.
They avoided official roads and towns, opting instead for remote, untouched mountains and forests.
The scent left behind by the bandits, perceived by the Perfection Realm < Spirit Sniffing Art >, was as clear as a broad road, guiding them in the direction they were heading.
Noon on the third day.
Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
"Be careful, the target is close!"
Fang Han slowed his pace and lowered his voice.
"Very good!"
After three days of continuous pursuit, the group behind them, who were quite exhausted, were suddenly invigorated.
He then slowed down, his eyes scanning his surroundings warily.
After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Fang Han stopped and raised his right hand.
Everyone stopped at the same time, disappearing behind trees or into bushes, their presence completely concealed.
Fang Han's gaze passed through the sparse trees ahead and landed on a secluded mountain hollow.
There, there is firelight.
There was smoke rising from the chimneys.
There was a shadowy figure moving around.
From a distance of several hundred feet, he could vaguely see several simple tents pitched in the ravine, with thirty or forty figures scattered around them.
Some people were roasting food by the campfire, some were wiping their weapons, and some were dozing off against a tree trunk.
Beside those tents were piles of more than a dozen packages of various sizes—which likely contained medicinal herbs looted from the North Mountain Herb Fields.
"Found it."
Fang Han spoke in a low voice, so soft it was almost inaudible.
Behind him, more than ten elite disciples slowly gathered, their gazes passing over the trees and landing on the mountain hollow.
Some gripped the knife hilts tightly, while others' eyes gleamed with a cold, icy light.
A three-day pursuit, spanning two prefectures and traversing hundreds of mountains and forests --
Finally, we found it.
Fang Han's gaze slowly swept over those figures.
More than thirty people, consistent with the aura perception.
Among them, three auras were the most intense, likely belonging to the three Fourth Grade martial artists.
At this moment, they were sitting around the largest tent, seemingly discussing something.
Fang Han withdrew his gaze and looked at the crowd behind him.
"Three are Fourth Grade, the rest are ordinary martial artists."
His voice was low, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"We are outnumbered, but our elite troops far surpass theirs."
"Rest in place for half an hour, then launch the attack. Leave no survivors except for the three leaders."
He spoke the last four words very softly.
But that coldness sent a chill down everyone's spine.
More than ten people nodded in unison, their eyes flashing with long-suppressed killing intent.
Fang Han withdrew his gaze and looked back at the mountain hollow.
The campfire leaped, and smoke drifted away.
These robbers were unaware that the shadow of death had already crept in.