In the end, Xue Hong could not sway Fang Qianyuan and could only take him along.
The two continued north, heading toward the region where the Black Wind Calamity commonly originated.
Xue Hong told Fang Qianyuan that, in the Snowman Tribe's experience, every Black Wind Calamity came from the direction of the Sacred Mountain's main peak.
But even they could not accurately predict when the Black Wind Calamity would appear or what course it would take. They could only spot it in time as it approached.
That made it a matter of luck. Avoiding the Black Wind Calamity completely was no easy task, and deliberately seeking it out was just as difficult.
Fang Qianyuan listened without saying anything.
He knew Xue Hong had not deceived him about this. Although Xue Hong also opposed his decision, now that Fang Qianyuan had persuaded him, he would remain faithful to his duty and do everything he could to help.
As a Snowman Warrior, he also possessed enough courage and sense of honor to fulfill this mission.
Their failure to encounter it over the past several days was certainly not because he was deliberately sabotaging their efforts. They simply had bad luck.
Looked at another way, they could also call it good luck: they had met neither disaster nor hardship.
After winding their way through tens of thousands of li in the surrounding area, the two entered another densely forested mountain region.
This place lay more than eight thousand li from where the last wind calamity had erupted.
Throughout the journey, Fang Qianyuan had been carefully sensing the flow of origin energy between heaven and earth. Suddenly, an inexplicable tremor stirred deep within him, as though he had detected some power erupting nearby.
"Roar!"
A huge beast covered in mottled black stripes suddenly leaped