Chapter 15: Going out
Here at the bottom of this cursed valley, sunlight couldn’t pierce through the thick, swirling mist that blanketed the land like a suffocating shroud.
As a result, it was always dark here—so dark it was almost impossible to tell night from day. There was no dawn. There was no dusk.
Yet it wasn’t completely pitch black either.
The rocky cliffs were laced with faintly glowing red crystals, their dim light pulsing gently like a heartbeat. On the ground, clusters of bioluminescent mushrooms cast a pale orange and red hue.
For an ordinary person, this light would’ve been far too little—nothing more than scattered sparks in a sea of darkness.
But for cultivators like Yue Ling and Langtian, whose senses were sharpened by spiritual energy, it was more than enough. Especially for Yue Ling, who had spent years in this valley.
As they walked, neither of them said a word.
Langtian’s steps were quiet, careful. His gaze swept over every twisted branch and jagged rock. His hand hovered near his waist at times, instinctively ready to draw a weapon—even though he no longer carried one.
It was too quiet down here.
Only the sound of the wind echoed faintly through the jagged stone, howling like a weeping banshee, carrying a bitter, ashen scent.
The trees, sparse and far between, were long dead. Their blackened trunks stood twisted and hollow, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers clawing at unseen prey.
And the deeper they went, the worse it became.