“Heh heh, what are you all still thinking about? Are you planning to wait here for three months?” A loud laugh rang out from the crowd, followed by a sudden blur as a figure transformed into a white streak, darting toward the distance.
Behind him, several others followed silently, likely members of his own clan.
Seeing someone take the lead, many in the crowd immediately formed groups and flew toward the gap beneath the mist.
In a short time, only a small fraction of people remained where they stood.
These individuals whispered among themselves, seemingly unbothered by the fact that other competitors had taken the initiative.
Among them were Han Li and members of the Chiron Clan.
A thunderous boom echoed as the massive silver gate behind them slowly closed, its surface shimmering with multicolored light before vanishing without a trace.
The remaining people stirred uneasily.
“Let’s go,” Han Li said, sweeping his gaze over the wall where the silver gate had disappeared. With a wave of his hand, his wings fluttered, and he transformed into a streak of azure light, soaring away.
Bai Bi and Lei Lan, without a word, turned into streaks of silver and golden light, following closely behind.
The moment Han Li and his group departed, numerous gazes—each carrying different emotions—landed on them.
Aside from the Chiron Clan, several unfamiliar Flying Spirit Tribe branches also watched with cold eyes as Han Li and his companions gradually disappeared into the distance.
The Chiron Clan waited until Han Li’s light had vanished into the mist for a long while before finally setting off at Zhu Yinzi’s quiet command.
By then, only about a dozen Flying Spirit Tribe branches remained beneath the massive wall.
Most of them were powerful branches ranked highly among the Flying Spirit Tribes. Yet, their eyes flickered restlessly, frequently stealing glances at two individuals among the remaining Saint Sons.
One was a thin, dark-skinned girl—Ao Qing of the Qiyue Clan. The other was an unusually tall man clad in black wooden armor.
The man appeared to be in his thirties, with eerie four-pupiled eyes and a massive broadsword strapped to his back, gleaming with a faint golden chill. Strangely, such a large weapon had not been stored in a spatial pouch.
For some reason, the Saint Sons of the other powerful branches hesitated to leave, their gazes fixed on these two.
After a while, seeing no one else move, Ao Qing frowned, then giggled before flying off with over a dozen of her clansmen.
The four-pupiled man’s eyes flashed coldly as he took a single stride, covering several zhang in an instant, seemingly intent on pursuing Ao Qing. Three equally tall clansmen followed silently behind him.
The other Flying Spirit Tribes relaxed visibly as Ao Qing and the giant man departed.
Some even immediately huddled together, discussing something in hushed tones.
Soon after, they split into several groups and left one after another, as if following a prearranged plan.
Thus, within moments, all several hundred Flying Spirit Saint Sons had vanished into the black land ahead, leaving no trace behind.
The area near the massive wall was now completely empty.
—
At the same time, Han Li, Bai Bi, and Lei Lan—the two Saint Sons of the Tianpeng Clan—were flying slowly about ten zhang above the ground. The motionless gray mist above them loomed only twenty zhang higher, stretching endlessly into the distance, its oppressive monotony weighing heavily on the mind.
Stranger still, within this narrow space, fierce winds occasionally swept in from ahead—gray, bitingly cold.
Such winds posed no threat to Han Li and the others, who were at the Divine Transformation level. Their protective spiritual light easily deflected the gusts.
Though many Saint Sons had already set off ahead, most had deliberately taken different routes, some even circling widely to avoid encountering other branches before even entering the Abyss, lest conflicts arise prematurely.
Han Li did the same.
After flying a hundred li, he led Bai Bi and Lei Lan off their original path, choosing a new direction.
A distance of ten thousand li was nothing to these Saint Sons.
Even moving cautiously, they reached their destination within an hour.
The scenery ahead changed—the low-hanging mist rose higher, and the sinister winds from the opposite direction intensified, their color shifting to a dark gray. Where they touched, a thin layer of black frost instantly formed.
Still, these winds posed no real threat. Han Li and his companions merely thickened their protective spiritual barriers slightly.
After the time it took to finish a meal, they emerged from the black winds, their vision clearing as they arrived at a startling sight.
Before them stretched a vast, flat space, surrounded by the black winds. The sky above remained shrouded in gray mist, but now it towered a thousand zhang high, churning violently—far different from the previous sea of fog.
Yet none of this drew Han Li’s attention the most. Their gazes were fixed on the ground below.
The black earth had vanished without a trace.
In its place was an unfathomably deep abyss, filled with drifting black-gray mist and gusts of freezing black wind.
Han Li’s eyes swept the area. The abyss was as vast as the space itself, its edges stretching beyond sight.
The three of them hovered at the abyss’s edge, their presence dwarfed by the sheer scale of the void before them.
“This must be the entrance to the Abyss. Let’s descend—but stay cautious. Though it’s unlikely we’ll encounter Abyss creatures so soon, it’s better to be careful,” Han Li said calmly. With a flick of his wings, he plunged into the abyss, vanishing into the black-gray mist after a few flashes.
Bai Bi and Lei Lan exchanged glances before following without hesitation.
Han Li descended slowly, his body enveloped in azure light. Seven or eight fist-sized moonstones floated around him, casting a milky glow that illuminated everything within thirty zhang.
As he observed the swirling mist, Han Li sighed inwardly.
At first, the mist had been thin enough to see through without using his spiritual sight. But after descending several thousand zhang, it thickened drastically.
With Bai Bi and Lei Lan close behind, he refrained from using his spiritual eyes and instead relied on the moonstones.
For now, this would suffice.
As Han Li had anticipated, the entrance to the Abyss was so vast that they encountered no creatures despite their deep descent.
This was naturally a relief.
After descending for an unknown length of time, the mist below began to thin, and the black winds ceased entirely.
The trio perked up, knowing they were nearing the first layer of the Abyss.
After another short while, Han Li narrowed his eyes, peering through the thinning mist to see a new landscape below.
A vast expanse of black-and-yellow earth stretched before him, covered in dense, towering trees. A few strange gray birds circled lazily in the low sky.
“So this is the Abyss. It doesn’t seem particularly unusual,” Bai Bi muttered as they hovered above, surveying the land.
“The first layer has been least affected by the dark energy of the Abyss. Aside from the weakest creatures, it’s mostly inhabited by ordinary beasts—though they’re all vicious predators. Some are even comparable to low-level monsters,” Lei Lan explained, seemingly well-informed.
Han Li remained expressionless, though his divine sense had already swept a thousand li in all directions, detecting no other Saint Sons or powerful presences. The area was safe.
“Let’s descend. Lingering in the air for too long invites trouble,” Han Li said before flying downward without waiting for a response.
Lei Lan and Bai Bi followed.
A strange screech echoed as the gray birds below noticed them and immediately charged.
Han Li’s eyes narrowed as he finally got a clear look at the creatures—thick-beaked, fanged, featherless, with gray skin and a single curved horn on their heads.
With a soft hum, he flicked his fingers.
Several golden sword lights flashed, piercing the birds instantly. Blood rained as their corpses plummeted into the forest below.
The moment the bodies vanished into the trees, roars erupted, and the ground trembled as massive beasts fought over the spoils.
Han Li’s eyes flickered with surprise before he turned away. At a hundred zhang above the ground, he circled once, then led his companions toward a predetermined direction.
“According to past Saint Sons, there are many entrances from the first to the second layer, but only about a dozen are relatively safe. The first layer is unlikely to yield Netherflame Fruit, so we’ll head straight for the second. The entrance I’ve chosen is the most remote—it’ll take longer, but it minimizes the risk of ambushes from hostile factions,” Han Li explained calmly as they flew.
Bai Bi frowned slightly but said nothing. Lei Lan appeared indifferent.
Han Li smiled faintly but didn’t elaborate.
His explanation wasn’t a request for input. Since the Tianpeng Clan had entrusted him with ensuring these two Saint Sons’ success, he was in charge. With his cultivation far surpassing theirs, he had no concerns about disobedience.
Thus, the trio flew in silence, heading straight for the second layer’s entrance.
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