Two days had passed since Mo Chen left the Maple Forest Mountain Range.
Over those two days, Mo Chen had hoped to use the Wind-Riding Technique once his dharma power recovered, but it still proved a little beyond him.
Unless he devoted himself entirely to seated meditation, the most he could do was hold two spirit stones in each hand. Even with Spring Water restoring his reserves, his dharma power was only just enough to sustain the Divine Movement Technique.
So the Wind-Riding Technique was out of the question. The recovery of his divine sense was about the only good news.
But his main problem now was that time waited for no one. Surely he could not stop to set up a small Spirit-Gathering Formation, fill it with spirit stones, and replenish himself completely?
By then, grass would be growing all over his master's and master's wife's graves.
He had to get his priorities straight.
Thus, whenever his spiritual power dropped to twenty percent, Mo Chen relied entirely on the body tempered by the Flame-Drinking Art and the movement technique Chen Jin had taught him to continue his journey.
Every moment of delay meant a little more danger on Hongfeng Mountain.
Another day passed. After crossing a mountain ridge, Mo Chen discovered that the surroundings had suddenly become very unusual. The rocks here were pitch-black, as though they had been burned.
Looking farther ahead, he saw two sheer cliffs thousands of feet high facing one another, forming a natural passage barely wide enough for several people to pass shoulder to shoulder. Long and narrow, the passage looked from a distance as though a gigantic axe had cleaved it open.
The strange entrance to the Buried Sword Valley startled Mo Chen.
"The terrain at this entrance is excellent. If someone claimed