The rise of this fog was strange; there had been no warning whatsoever before it suddenly spread. The fog was dense, yet covered only a tiny area, shrouding merely several mu of mountain forest in a hazy veil that would not disperse. The final scream in the distance had already drawn very near. Within the fog-draped woods, the figures closing in from all sides had become blurred, shadowy and chaotic.
Huang Tai was initially confused, but then a thought flashed through his mind, and his spine went icy cold, as though plunged into ice water.
He had witnessed Yu Ci's ability to strike once and flee without a trace. In an environment like this, with obstructed vision and disorderly figures, was this not the ideal place for that bastard to perform? No, perhaps this fog itself was Yu Ci's handiwork. The bastard might be hiding within it, waiting for a chance to strike!
With that realization, how could Huang Tai dare be careless? At once, his yin spirit trembled slightly, as though casting out a great net woven from divine awareness, bringing an area nearly thirty zhang across entirely within his senses.
This sort of yin spirit perception covered a broad range and sensed things clearly. Within thirty zhang, even the rustle of grass in the wind could not escape him; his vague sensing range could even extend beyond a li. It was exceptionally formidable. Yet it consumed a great deal of soul power and was particularly vulnerable to curses and other arts that directly attacked the soul. Thus, he had always been extremely cautious, but at this moment, he could endure it no longer.
Beneath the great shroud of his divine intent, the soul fluctuations of every living creature in range were clearly reflected. Every living creature's soul was