As they ventured deeper into Scarlet Cloud Mountain, the crimson mist around them grew thicker and thicker.
The mist flowed slowly along the ground like a layer of viscous blood, swallowing rocks and withered grass alike. Even though the group stood only a few yards apart, their figures had already become indistinct.
Demon Wraiths roamed everywhere among the ancient trees.
Rotting figures flickered in and out of the mist. Some dragged rusted war blades, while others scurried through the woods on all fours like beasts. The dying cries of wild animals occasionally rang out in the distance. Each time a cry sounded, the blood-colored formation patterns underground brightened a little.
Lu Chen glanced down at his feet.
Deep in the soil, fine threads of blood stretched forward like a spiderweb. The formation drew the blood of creatures that died along the way underground, gathering it into a dark red torrent that flowed steadily toward the depths of Scarlet Cloud Mountain.
"The blood sacrifice is still going."
Lu Chen tightened his grip on the Ember Sun Blade and quickened his pace.
A Demon Wraith clad in broken iron armor suddenly lunged from behind a tree, its claws, covered in black bone armor, reaching straight for the back of Lu Chen's neck. It had concealed itself in the crimson mist without a trace of its presence. Only when it attacked did it unleash ghostly energy approaching bone-forging perfection.
It was as though Lu Chen had eyes in the back of his head.
With a shift of his Flying Dragon Art footwork, he slid several feet sideways, skimming past the Demon Wraith's claws. At the same time, he swung the Ember Sun Blade upward in a reverse slash.
Swish!
The dark red edge cut into the Demon Wraith beneath its ribs and sliced