"What? Split up? How could that work!"
The moment he heard that the three of them were going to separate, the Penglai Palace disciple's expression changed at once, revealing a trace of panic. "Who knows how long these forks will go on ahead? What if the path runs out farther in, or we come across more forks? How are we supposed to tell which way to go then?"
His words carried a note of urgency.
Compared to Yang Yuanling and Xuanyuan Zeyuan, he was truly the weakest among the three.
Though Yang Yuanling could not discern directions, her formidable strength was assurance enough; even if she encountered danger, she could handle and resolve it.
Moreover, as a cultivator of the Northwest Yang Clan's main line, she surely carried many spiritual pills and treasures. The life-saving measures at her disposal were on an entirely different level from his.
Xuanyuan Zeyuan needed no mention. As long as he used that secret art of the Xuanyuan Clan, he could distinguish directions within the poisonous miasma and had no need to worry about getting lost.
Although this Demon Soil cultivator was not truly the Penglai Palace disciple himself, he still displayed that restless, anxious unease remarkably well at this moment.
And once he revealed his panic, Yang Yuanling cooperatively gave him an extra push.
Before Xuanyuan Zeyuan could speak, she raised her voice. "Little friend, I can let your conduct and words from earlier pass without reproach, treating them as the alarm and fear born of being in peril."
"But at this critical juncture, Zeyuan has already sounded out the truth of the road ahead. If you continue putting on such airs, you will become rather tiresome."
Yang Yuanling's tone was utterly calm, yet anyone hearing it could sense the warning hidden within.
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