Deep in the wasteland, yellow sand swept through the air. The horizon was filled with rolling earthen hills and cracked ground, without even a trace of plant life to be found.
Tang Wulin moved forward slowly, his footsteps making barely a sound upon the grit. His Purple Demonic Eyes silently activated, a faint golden glimmer flashing through his eyes before vanishing. Every movement within several thousand meters entered his mind—every fluctuation in the air, every lingering trace of Soul Power, nothing escaped his senses.
The Sun Moon Empire scout squad he had just defeated had not appeared by chance.
Their Soul Tool equipment had been excellent, their movements covert, and the fragments of secret correspondence they carried still faintly bore words such as "border disturbances" and "ruin coordinates." The Sun Moon Empire had always been ambitious, and its Soul Tool technology advanced with each passing day. Now that it was repeatedly sending people into the wasteland, there had to be a greater scheme behind it.
He bent down and picked up a metal fragment that still retained the warmth of Soul Power. His fingers lightly rubbed its surface, where dense Soul Tool inscriptions had been carved. Deep within those markings lingered an exceedingly faint Abyssal aura.
Tang Wulin frowned slightly. A faint tremor of Soul Power passed through his fingertips, dispersing the aura on the fragment.
The Abyssal Plane's infiltration had never ceased, and the Sun Moon Empire seemed to have long been secretly colluding with the Abyss. If they were allowed to establish a stronghold deep in the wasteland and use the ruins' energy and Abyssal power to strengthen their Soul Tool weapons, the entire border of Douluo Continent would be in grave danger.
Following the tracks left by the retreating scout squad, he continued deeper into the wasteland.