Late at night, everyone had gone to rest.
Taking advantage of the dead of night, Xia Ping used the Formless Mask to conceal his aura, melded into the void, and silently left his courtyard for the inner hall of the treasure vault.
Along the way, no one knew that Xia Ping had passed by and departed. Even powerful figures like Elder Teuton failed to notice him. This was the wondrous aspect of the innate magical treasure known as the Formless Mask, its power nearly approaching that of laws.
After a day of investigation and indirect probing, Xia Ping finally learned the difference between the inner hall and the outer hall.
Though they were called the inner hall and outer hall, in truth, they were not located in the same place at all.
Layers upon layers of constantly twisting space lay between the two treasure-vault palaces, surrounded by restriction formations. The moment an ordinary person drew near, they would be discovered.
Moreover, anyone not proficient in restriction formations would be forever lost within this spatial maze, never able to escape.
Even Elder Teuton, who had lived for tens of thousands of years, did not know much about the mysteries of the inner hall. It was a forbidden place only Saints could set foot in, one of the Illusion Race's most important locations.
An ordinary person would have given up long ago in the face of such circumstances. This was a forbidden ground that simply could not be entered.
But Xia Ping was different. Using the Hell Golden Crow Eye, he saw through the restriction formations here and perceived countless flaws within them, allowing him to evade them with ease.
The so-called spatial maze could not halt his footsteps at all.
Whoosh!
Half an hour later, Xia Ping's figure flickered as he