Near noon the next day, just as the distant mountains came into view, an abrupt thunderclap rang out east of the main road.
The northern sky was perfectly clear, with only a few layers of thin, perennial clouds winding between the peaks farther away. Yet that sound had clearly come from the ground, and violent fluctuations of soul power rippled out from behind the woods immediately afterward.
Lu Yuan reined in his warhorse and looked over the roadside treetops. He soon spotted three figures rushing out from behind a slope.
The young spirit master in front had blood soaking his left shoulder, yet he still clutched a cracked Silver Signal Tube in a death grip. The other two were less badly injured, but equally bedraggled. Their pursuers wore no sect insignia, yet their coordination was exceptionally practiced. They blocked the escape routes on both sides, clearly intending to leave no survivors.
Lu Yuan pushed off the stirrup with his toe, launching himself down the slope as the Fate-Breaking Spear materialized in his hand.
The man leading the pursuit had just raised his hand to intercept the injured young spirit master when the spearhead cut in from the side.
His reaction was extremely quick. The soul power in his palm instantly shifted direction and collided head-on with the spear. As the two forces broke apart, Lu Yuan retreated only half a step. The man, however, did not continue the exchange. Once he saw who had suddenly appeared, he immediately pulled back.
"Retreat!"
The others turned almost simultaneously.
Their response was decisive. Clearly, they had never intended to fight to the death here. Once an outlying sentry post was eliminated, they would advance; if they encountered an unexpected powerful enemy, they would disengage at once. This squad had only one task-to keep