The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6487

The sky-barge descended slowly and settled with steady control on an open stone dais at the outer edge of the mountain range.

"The stone dais lay exposed to the open air, its surface skinned over with damp green moss.

Underfoot, the soil gave softly, mixed with rotting fallen leaves and breathing out a faint, fishy wetness of decay."

"Silas lifted a hand and formed a spell seal.

Black spiritual power flashed across his fingertips and vanished."

"The spotless white cloudbird-drawn sky-barge instantly turned into a streak of pearly light.

It shrank several times over, then slipped with exact precision into the simple old storage pendant hanging at his waist."

"The two silverwing coursers turned into two streams of white light as well.

They disappeared into the pendant and settled there in quiet concealment."

"All three of them set their feet on solid ground.

The cool mountain damp closed around them at once, cold enough to bite into bone."

"Moist fog threaded through the seams of their clothing and pressed into their skin.

The sharp, rank smell of rotten leaves, decayed wood, and wet earth rushed into their faces, turning faintly sour in the stomach."

"Silas showed no change at all.

His hard face stayed as still and severe as ever, as if the cold, sunken air around him could not touch him in the slightest."

"His fingers moved quickly through a scouting spell seal.

A wisp of dim black spiritual power coiled around him, then spread fast through the surrounding forest like ripples across water."

"The spiritual power swept over grass, trees, and stone.

It searched with careful precision for hidden demon beasts, wards, and killing intent."

"A moment later, the black spiritual power flowed back.

It withdrew into his meridians once more."

"The search turned up nothing unusual.

No higher demon beasts lay in ambush nearby, and no concealed killing wards waited in the dark."

"This is the Miasmawood on the outer edge of the Greywild Mountains."

Silas finally spoke again, his cold voice cutting through the hush of the forest. That icy tone, for once, carried the faintest edge of warning. "The woods are crawling with lesser venom-beasts. The plants hide hallucinogenic miasma, and the natural wards here are too many to count.

"After we enter the woods, do not speak loudly, do not touch unfamiliar plants, and do not leave the group."

He raised a hand and pointed toward the depths of the mountains, his gaze cold and sharp. "According to the sanctuary map provided by the chapter master, we need to cut straight through this Miasmawood and reach the Broken Crags beyond the rear slopes, where we will make camp and rest.

"Tomorrow, at first light, we leave on schedule for the sanctuary entrance and begin the trial."

"Beside him, Luna slowly opened her eyes.

Her clear gaze passed over the thick gray-white miasma around them."

"Her slender, pale fingers brushed lightly over the snow-white threads of the white-jade fly-whisk.

Warm, lustrous white spiritual power flowed slowly from her fingertips, soft and pure, a perfect counter to the venomous, shadowed miasma in the mountains."

"A low hum sounded.

With the three of them at its center, an almost transparent circular radiant barrier spread quickly outward."

"The radiant barrier was thin and light, its spiritual glow fine and gentle.

Like a delicate layer of glass, it enclosed all three of them within it."

"The muddy gray-white miasma and the cold, murky foul air around them struck the radiant barrier.

In an instant, they were shut outside, unable to press even a fraction closer."

"I have set down the Lucent Ward. It can block miasmic poison and hold off the cold, foul air."

Luna's voice was soft and flowing, warm to the ear, the complete opposite of Silas's cold rasp, yet her tone held the same clean distance. "The ward's spiritual power is stable. It can last for 12 hours. Do not force your way against the ward barrier, or the spiritual power will be thrown into disorder, the ward will shatter, and the miasma will seep into your body."

"Master Wellspring gave a slight nod.

His spirit sense spread to its limit, catching every shift around them. Each step landed steady and measured, avoiding the hidden gullies and poisonous grasses buried underfoot.

The white jade soul phial stayed pressed against his chest, tight to his heart, its warmth flowing through without pause. Jared's soul rested quietly inside, and every so often, it released a faint thread of spirit sense, echoing Master Wellspring's own as they searched the surroundings together for hidden threats.

Silas shifted to the right side of the group. Black, shadowed light moved over him, his killing aura drawn inward, while his cold eyes carried a faint gleam in the dark, catching the smallest disturbance inside the fog.

Whenever poisonous insects or lesser demon beasts crept too close, he did not even need to strike. The cutting killing intent around him drove them back, scattering them into flight.

Luna walked on the left side of the formation, the fly-whisk in her hand swaying lightly. The Lucent Ward remained steady the whole time, its soft white glow shutting out every trace of poisonous and foul yin murk.

Her gaze stayed level as she quietly watched the surrounding terrain. At the same time, she kept observing Master Wellspring's every move in secret, and the questions lodged in her mind never cleared.

The three of them held a triangular formation, keeping the distance between them within ten yards. It was neither too close nor too far—near enough to support one another, far enough to preserve a safe buffer.

No one spoke the entire way. Only the small crunch of footsteps pressing into rotting leaves drifted slowly through the silent, shadowed forest.

The long night passed without rest.

Relying on the powerful bodies of cultivators, the three traveled day and night, moving without pause through the Miasmawood, dark valleys, and fields of broken stone.

Along the way, they avoided dozens of natural illusion wards, detoured around three nests occupied by higher demon beasts, and killed several venom-beasts that rushed out to attack them.

Silas struck with brutal precision, one slash taking a life. Luna reinforced the ward at the right moments, dissolving the miasma's erosion, while Master Wellspring steadied his mind and broke through the illusions trying to mislead him.

The three moved together with practiced coordination. They exchanged no words, yet each handled their own task, and their pace never broke.

The darkness slowly thinned. Far to the east, the horizon once again showed a faint wash of pale, fish-belly white.

Cold morning light pierced the heavy layers of fog and spilled into the depths of the Greywild Mountains.

After a full night of hard travel, the three finally passed through the stacked veils of mist and reached the entrance to the Primordial Sanctuary.

The entrance to the Primordial Sanctuary sat halfway up a ten-thousand-yard peak.

The mountain peak rose steep and immense, its rock face smooth in places and jagged in others as it thrust straight into the clouds.

Halfway up, a massive, flat section of cliff sank inward, naturally forming a wide-open stone platform.

In the center of the rock platform stood a vast, ancient black ironstone gate.