As night fell, all the horses and people were draped in a layer of grass garments.
These grass garments were said to offer some protection against the poisonous insects.
But just how much protection they offered remained unknown.
Everyone gazed at the slope before them, slowly shrouded in darkness, and felt a deep dread spread through their hearts.
This was a death trap.
Midnight soon arrived.
The soldiers who had been resting on the ground all rose, secured their torches, and slowly advanced up the slope in formation.
Soon, a dragon of torchlight began crawling slowly up Shadowless Slope.
But after advancing only a few yards, those flames vanished like ghosts.
Mist spread in every direction, enveloping the flames and figures. Gradually, even those standing close together could no longer make out one another's faces. They could only hear one another's breathing, some soft, some heavy.
Yet before long, even those sounds grew indistinct.
Fortunately, Yang Qing and his three companions were riding up the slope in a carriage. But the mist seeped through every gap, until they could no longer see one another clearly even while sitting face-to-face.
This mist was even more formidable than they had anticipated. It not only concealed their figures but also swallowed their voices.
"This mist is terribly powerful!" Jiang Zhizhou could not help exclaiming.
The mist was not poisonous, but a vague thought stirred in their hearts: something far more terrifying would emerge within it.
Suddenly, shrill screams rang out from outside, one after another.
Those screams were like a signal, awakening the truth everyone least wanted to face: the poisonous insects had appeared.
And they came in a ferocious, unstoppable surge.
Chaos had already erupted outside.
Cries of alarm, the clash of blades, frantic footsteps—there was no end to the noise.
"These