Chapter 80: The Mist That Brought Us Together

The fine scales of the Jade Python were indeed astonishingly resilient; under such a barrage of explosions, apart from the two wounds inflicted by Ji Yao, the rest of its body remained unscathed. Yet, the once emerald sheen had dulled considerably, robbed of its luster, and the mud-caked body now appeared ashen and drab.

The recent explosion would surely have alerted nearby cultivators and demon beasts. Ji Yao had no desire for others to covet her spoils. While the python was still dazed, it was imperative to finish things swiftly and clear the battlefield. She pressed another Vajra Talisman onto herself, then, moving with the swiftness of a startled bird, approached the Jade Python. Spiritual energy surged forth as she gripped her flying sword, took aim at the wound atop the python’s head, and drove the blade downward.

Deprived of its protective scales and hide, even the hard skull proved defenseless. The blade of the Snowdust Sword met only the slightest resistance before piercing clear through the python’s skull, transfixing its head.

In the moment before Ji Yao struck, the Jade Python seemed to sense its impending doom. Its previously inert body was suddenly galvanized, moving with stunning speed. Ji Yao had only just finished her final thrust when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the snake’s tail arching toward her.

Gripping the hilt with both hands, Ji Yao leapt nimbly, using the sword embedded in the python’s head as a pivot to swing herself away from the oncoming tail. The sound of the sword grinding through bone was sharp and chilling.

Yet Ji Yao had underestimated the python’s death throes. Even with its skull pierced, the force of its tail did not abate in the slightest. Despite her best efforts to dodge, she could not entirely evade the blow. The Vajra Talisman flashed, and she was flung aside, hands torn from the sword as she tumbled across the ground.

By then, the Jade Python was well and truly dead, while Ji Yao, battered and dazed, found her mouth full of mud and grass. Forcing herself to her feet, she retrieved the Snowdust Sword still lodged in the python’s corpse, hastily stowed the serpent’s body, and made to dig up the remaining Awakening Celestial Herbs.

Yet, within her spiritual awareness, she sensed approaching cultivators. Glancing at the battlefield, she saw the few stalks of Awakening Celestial Herb still swaying in the breeze. With a sigh, Ji Yao turned away, abandoning them. She affixed a Concealment Talisman, chose a direction where the foliage was sparse, and made her swift escape. Only when her senses confirmed there were no others nearby did she slip into her storage realm with a thought.

No sooner had she entered her space than several figures arrived at the site of her battle with the python. Sharp-eyed ones immediately spotted the remaining herbs and rushed toward them. Meanwhile, the more cunning and unscrupulous, after sizing up the few who’d gone to snatch the herbs and assessing the battlefield, chose a direction and set off in pursuit.

But Ji Yao, now inside her private realm, had no time to concern herself with such matters. Only after her feet touched the familiar earth did her mind finally ease. She realized she was still too inexperienced—had she not been cautious enough to use defensive talismans, she’d likely have broken several ribs at the very least, not to mention the risk of internal injuries and poison.

Within her space, Ji Yao cleaned herself up, then carefully skinned the python, separating the hide and flesh before turning her senses outward. Watching two groups of people pass by the vicinity, she felt fortunate she hadn’t lingered for the remaining spirit herbs, else even more searchers would have descended.

Only after a day passed without anyone entering that remote corner did Ji Yao slip outside. Producing Dongfang Shun’s formation compass, she determined her bearings and set off to rendezvous with him as planned.

Unfinished business weighed on her, and before she knew it, seven days had slipped by. Ji Yao decided it was time to hasten her steps. So far, she had only lingered on the outskirts—the gains from the python had been her largest haul; everything else was hardly worth mentioning. Considering her and Dongfang Shun’s goals, and the Enforcement Hall’s task, time was running short.

Once she and Dongfang Shun had secured their respective prizes, she intended to venture toward the secret realm’s center. Who could say how much truth there was to Dongfang Shun's story? She would not rest easy until she saw with her own eyes.

If, after obtaining the Sword Cultivator's legacy, the rift at the secret realm’s heart continued to widen, then the so-called power of the rules would be but a drop in the ocean. When the rules could no longer restrain the demon beasts, the first to collapse would surely be the Awakening Celestial Secret Realm, the lowest of all trial grounds.

On the evening of the ninth day, after exchanging messages with Dongfang Shun, Ji Yao calculated their distance; by nightfall they would meet. Her spirits lifted, and she sent out her spiritual sense to scout ahead.

She immediately noticed something amiss. Only moments earlier, she had checked the forest and found all was normal, yet now a faint mist was seeping through the spiritual energy around her—and thickening rapidly. What was once a clear path vanished within the span of a tea’s time. Though her spiritual sense could still extend outward, its range was diminished.

Ji Yao had never heard of such a phenomenon—not even the disciples who had previously entered this realm had mentioned it upon their return. She considered rousing Situ Jing for advice, but this wasn’t yet an emergency. The mist brought no sense of danger, and she could still move forward unhindered. Besides, Situ Jing was not someone to be disturbed over trifles—who knew what her temper would be like if woken abruptly?

Ji Yao decided to proceed, probing her path with spiritual sense. Perhaps she could leave this area before nightfall. Apart from the mist, which limited her vision and somewhat constrained her senses, everything else seemed normal. As dusk deepened and the first star flickered in the sky, a dense wall of white fog suddenly materialized before her.

It was as if she had been expelled from one space straight into another. Swirling mists surrounded her. Ji Yao turned and realized she was now encircled by swiftly thickening fog.

Now, not only was her vision restricted, but her spiritual sense was abruptly confined to just three meters beyond her body. Her heart skipped a beat—was some misbegotten spirit about to appear?

Feeling the goosebumps rise on her arms, Ji Yao realized it wasn’t fear—this white mist was rapidly dropping in temperature. Although only at Qi Refining level, her sensitivity to cold was far greater than an ordinary mortal’s, especially clad in protective robes. They didn’t make her immune to the elements, but they did provide some defense.

The crucial point was: she could not get out. Just what sort of powerful entity was about to make its entrance? These special effects were a bit much.

Still, Ji Yao couldn’t say she was truly afraid. Some instinct told her this mist, mysterious as it was, held no lethal intent; it sought only to confine her. If this was a formation, then regrettably her formation skills were inadequate—at least for now, she could discern no trace of formation within the mist.

Looking up, she could just make out the stars through the night haze. For the first time, Ji Yao wished desperately that she could fly on her sword. Though fog hung in the air above, it was far thinner than around her—perhaps by flying upward, she might escape its bounds.

Suddenly, she realized that Dongfang Shun, who was also hurrying along, should have met her by now if not for this mishap. And if she’d encountered the mist, what about him?

She took out the formation compass that tracked their locations. The two red dots on its surface were nearly touching. Ji Yao tried to send a message, but the words flickered and dissipated into the mist.

She couldn’t make contact! Yet the two red dots continued to converge, on both sides, not just hers.

Startled, Ji Yao instinctively sent out her spiritual sense—only to brush against someone else’s in an instant.

Who was it? Dongfang Shun?

With this in mind, Ji Yao drew her Snowdust Sword, leveled it ahead, and called out in a clear, commanding voice:

“Who’s there?”