Following the direction vaguely indicated by the injured man, the three of them, led by Chen Yi, abandoned the carriage to be watched over by the Paper Maid, and proceeded on foot into the increasingly dense mist.
There was no path underfoot, only piles of rocks and ancient roots interwoven in chaos.
After walking about a mile, they heard repressed voices emanating from the mist ahead, revealing anxiety and fear amidst the noise.
Drawing closer, they saw the indistinct forms of more than a dozen people gathered in one place, trapped in front of a towering gray-black stone wall. The wall soared several meters high, clearly a marvel of nature.
The situation of the group of Jianghu Guests at this moment was quite disheveled.
They had their swords drawn, forming a semicircle, warily facing the thick mist churning unpredictably on the periphery, as if a Fierce Beast lurked within, ready to devour them. Many bore injuries, blood-stained and with expressions of lingering terror.
