Chapter 21: The Breath of Death
The barrier shimmered faintly, a fragile dome of light separating the group from the ominous mist that pressed against it like a living, breathing entity. Each step forward was heavy with unease. The mages in the group, sweat beading on their foreheads, maintained the barrier with unwavering focus.
The mist clung to them like a living thing, cold and unrelenting, muffling every sound until the world seemed to vanish. Visibility was reduced to mere feet ahead, where the swirling gray tendrils danced and coiled like ghostly serpents. Each step felt heavier, as if the ground itself resisted their advance, the damp air seeping into their skin and chilling them to the bone.
The mist wasn’t silent, it whispered. Faint, almost inaudible murmurs seemed to emanate from all around, like the voices of the dead calling out from the void. Shapes loomed in the distance, but when approached, they dissolved into nothingness, leaving only an aching emptiness.
Then came the voices. Not from the mist but from those around Feng Jiao Xue. Greedy murmurs that snaked through the group like poison,
"Those weapons look valuable.. "
"Some of their storage rings are intact..."
Feng Jiao Xue caught the flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. A pair of cultivators, their faces shadowed with greed, crouched beside a corpse. One of them snatched a ring from the finger of a fallen warrior discreetly.
"We shouldn’t linger here, she said quietly, her voice steady. "The barrier is holding, but if we lose focus-" Her words were cut off by a sudden hiss of excitement.
"Look at that sword!" one of the cultivators whispered outloud, pointing to a corpse clutching a gleaming blade. "That could be worth a fortune."
Before anyone could stop him, the man darted forward. Another followed close behind, their greed overcoming their caution. "You fools, stop!" barked the crown prince, his voice unusually sharp.
It was too late.