Xu Mu looked over at Miao He. She was crooking a finger at him in a provocative "come here" gesture—yet her body moved backward stiffly, like a puppet retreating step by step.
Xu Mu frowned. What was going on? It felt like he'd wandered into a chicken coop.
He glanced at Dai Xingluo and found she seemed normal.
"Brother! What's wrong with them?" Dai Xingluo gripped her longsword and came to Xu Mu's side.
Xu Mu surveyed the surroundings. First conclusion: this was an illusion array—an array that induces hallucinations. If the scenery was fake, the people before him might also be fake. Take Meng Wanyue: how could she say things like that?
He also recalled how that young man earlier had cried out "Shingū Fuka" after stepping into the array. Most likely he'd been caught by the illusion and took an apparition of Shingū Fuka for the real thing.
"I don't know exactly what's happening either," Xu Mu said, shaking his head as he walked toward Meng Wanyue.
"What are you doing? Ow!" Meng Wanyue drew a dagger and pointed it at him.
Xu Mu couldn't help smiling. With that expression and those words, she looked dumbly cute—oddly charming.
He suddenly accelerated toward her.
Whoosh!
He seized the wrist holding her dagger and pressed her down onto the grass with his other hand.
"Wanyue, don't move."
Pinning her other wrist, he carefully felt for a pulse. Just as he suspected: the illusion's fake people were very high quality—almost indistinguishable from real—but the details weren't perfect. No pulse.
"Xingluo—"
He had only turned his head when he saw Dai Xingluo's blade already chopping toward him.
Buzz!
His gang-qi flared out at once.
Crack!
As the blade touched the gang-qi, its speed visibly slowed. Xu Mu's figure flickered; in an instant, he was behind Dai Xingluo. One hand clamped her sword arm, the other pinched the back of her neck. No pulse there either—she was fake.
Bang!
He drove a knee into her back. Her body jolted, flew outward, and dispersed in midair.
He glanced around at the others. Since they showed no intent to attack, he stayed his hand. Then he looked about, intending to double back and see if he could exit.
After dozens of meters, he was still on the same grassland. No wonder Shingū Fuka hadn't returned—she probably couldn't get out either.
"Everyone may be in danger," Xu Mu murmured. He knew formations and could judge quickly, but Meng Wanyue and the rest might not react in time if they saw his duplicate.
Xu Mu stepped onto the clouds technique, treading seven or eight strides to reach a height of a hundred meters. Scanning the distance, he spotted figures on the grassland and descended, heading toward them while stopping and studying the array as he went. But this was an ancient ruin—the illusion array was formidable. As a mere beginner formation master, he still had no clue how to break it.
Crossing the grass, he soon saw a woman in a white dress emerge from a nearby corpse. Her features were delicate and refined, with a pure, fresh aura. Her eyes were limpid, like a clear spring. Black hair fell long, tied here and there with dark-red ribbons. A guitar case was slung across her back; in her hand she held a tachi whose scabbard also had a short red ribbon tied to it.
"Hello. Do you know me?" Xu Mu took the initiative in Dragon Nation language.
A flicker of surprise crossed Shingū Fuka's eyes. They'd crossed paths at a hotel before, when she'd warned him to beware Dai Dongyang. She'd taken him for an ordinary man—but he'd reached this place unscathed, which meant he had real ability.
"No response? Then you must be fake," Xu Mu mused. If there were other people here, that meant not everyone was trapped in separate illusions; Meng Wanyue and the others were likely somewhere else nearby.
"I'm real," Shingū Fuka said calmly. "We first met in front of a company."
Xu Mu nodded to himself. "The fakes wouldn't know that. You are real."
"How do you prove you're real?" she asked.
"You were talking with Zhang Que at the time," he replied without hesitation.
Shingū Fuka nodded inwardly. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long," Xu Mu said. "I heard from the two deserters you brought that you entered before dawn. It's been a while. Have you discovered anything?"
"No. If I had, I would've left this array already," she sighed.
Xu Mu said nothing further. They weren't close; even if she knew something, she might not tell him.
"Alright, I'll be on my way," he said with a nod, turning to leave.
Watching his back, Shingū Fuka felt a bit taken aback. She considered herself fairly attractive; by common logic, men in ruins like these would rush to play the knight-errant and stick to her side—even if their intentions weren't pure. A young man who turned on his heel and left—this was a first.
Could it be that Xu Mu likes men?
In truth, she'd wanted to team up with him—he knew Zhang Que, so he had to be a master—but she wasn't the type to ask.
Xu Mu headed deeper. The figure he'd glimpsed earlier appeared again from the trees—it wasn't Shingū Fuka he'd first seen, but someone on the distant grassland.
He quickened his pace and extended his perception. When he drew near, he found three people: two middle-aged men he didn't recognize—and one man he did.
Himself.
Xu Mu studied the "Xu Mu" before him. It was his first time seeing himself rendered in such lifelike 3D.
"Tsk, tsk. That guy's pretty handsome," he muttered, circling to look at… himself.
"Another one? Which of you two is real and which is fake?" asked a pot-bellied middle-aged man, unnerved.
"No need to panic," Xu Mu said lightly. "We'll fight. Whoever wins is real."
He drew his dagger and lunged at his double.
Whoosh!
The fake Xu Mu also drew a dagger, but the illusion only copied appearances—its combat skill lagged far behind. In an instant, Xu Mu slit the imposter's throat; the figure slowly dissipated.
Then Xu Mu's eyes widened. As the fake body faded, formation patterns appeared on it. He reached out and touched the lines—and a ring of formation light manifested around his own wrist.
"So that's it. I get it now," he thought, sensing the formation on his wrist and nodding to himself.