Almost the instant the sword-light fell, Zhang Yu heard a crisp sound, as if something had shattered.
With a turn of his thoughts, the Cicada Cry Sword flew back in an instant and returned to his hand. His gaze fell upon it, and he saw a trace of foreign magical power clinging to its blade.
The hem of his Daoist robe fluttered in the wind, and then his figure vanished into a blaze of starlight.
When he appeared again, he had arrived at the place where the sword-light had struck.
What remained on the ground was a shattered glazed fish tally.
He beckoned it over.
After examining it, he could tell that this was a magical artifact, most likely meant to take external harm in place of its master.
He pondered for a moment. When he had entered Solitary Province, he had sensed someone secretly watching him. But the army had been on the march then, and there had been no shortage of people hostile toward him, so he had not paid it much mind.
But today, ever since he had emerged, that faint, elusive aura had been following behind him.
His reason for sending everyone away earlier had also been to draw this person out.
Yet from the looks of it, the one spying on him from behind had been cautious as well. Rather than engaging him, they had used this item to take the damage from that slash before retreating.
Still, after watching him for so long, this person might not necessarily give up.
He inspected the fish tally again. The artifact itself had revealed quite a few things.
Only true cultivators would use such objects.
And that aura had been utterly unfamiliar. It was definitely not anyone he had encountered before, so it should not have belonged