Pan Long moved fast, covering five or six miles in no time.
In truth, he was holding back considerably, merely putting on a show of "sprinting."
With his abilities, if he truly ran at full speed, he could cover six or seven hundred miles in fifteen minutes. The wild winds churned up by his passage alone would be enough to cause a small-scale natural disaster.
He could not maintain that speed for long, but it would be more than enough to shake off his pursuers and escape their encirclement.
That, however, was not the result he wanted.
In fact, he was fishing.
Most Demons were sinister and cunning. Those who stood out among the many mid- and high-ranking Demons, won the Demon Mother's trust, and earned command of her armies were especially so.
Unless he gave them a good enough opportunity, they would never show themselves.
Pan Long had not forgotten his earlier surprise attack on the Tiefling swordsmen. Only after every enemy was dead, when he was happily gathering the spoils, had the powerful Demon lurking in the shadows suddenly struck and caught him off guard.
If he had not been strong enough, the tables might have turned on him right there, ending all his laughter with a GG.
So this time, he was especially cautious, keeping watch on his surroundings at every moment.
He was not afraid of being surrounded or of traps. He was afraid of being ambushed again.
Lathander's blessed holy emblem was powerful, but it was not all-powerful.
Because he had deliberately slowed down, the mid-ranking Demons caught up with him over the next fifteen minutes and even surrounded him once more.
Ahead of him, roaring flames rose. At a glance, it was impossible to tell how many layers of fire walls had been raised.