"Beyond this grassland lies a primeval forest. According to He Hongshu's directions, the Soul-Calming Wood is located within that ancient forest."
Jiang Chen studied the map, then turned to Huang'er: "Let's move."
He found it rather puzzling — with He Hongshu's level of cultivation, how could he have made it through Ten Thousand Corpse Valley in one piece? Had the demon tribe in the valley not awakened at that time?
There was no point dwelling on it now.
Neither Jiang Chen nor Huang'er bothered traversing the vast grassland on foot. Instead, they activated the Golden Cicada Wings and flew at low altitude.
For ordinary cultivators who hadn't refined any flying-type artifacts, staying airborne required channeling true essence — an enormous drain on one's reserves. But with the Golden Cicada Wings, the true essence Jiang Chen and Huang'er consumed was less than a tenth of what free-flight would demand. As long as they took replenishment pills from time to time, there was no impact whatsoever.
However, the airflow in this region was extremely peculiar. Even at low altitude, it was nearly impossible to pick up much speed, as though some invisible resistance filled the void and refused to let them pass quickly.
He Hongshu and his group had crossed this grassland using a combination of walking and flying, and it had taken them a full two days — at the cost of losing a third of their companions.
The grassland looked deceptively calm, but the weeds stood taller than a man, stretching in dense, endless rows to every horizon. No one knew what manner of horrors lurked among those thickets and beneath that tangled undergrowth.
Setting aside everything else, the marshland alone was riddled with countless traps. Without warning, inexplicable mud vortices would appear and drag people under.
Flying low, the two could see a fair amount of what lay below. Here and there, bleached bones poked through the grass — human remains, weathered and old.
There were animal skeletons as well, a truly harrowing sight that evoked a sense of raw, primal wilderness.
It wasn't that they didn't want to fly higher. The problem was that the resistance grew stronger the higher they went.
It was as though this grassland was born with that property — possessed of some innate, alien magic.
The two glided barely three or four meters above the ground. That said, their speed was still considerably faster than walking.
If the path stayed clear, Jiang Chen was confident he could cross this grassland in under a day.
Two full hours passed, and the journey remained uneventful. The tranquility along the way was so profound that it almost seemed unreal to Jiang Chen.
It left him mildly uneasy.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this calm was far too strange, far too unnatural.
The Emperor's Descent Protective Talisman's defensive power had been completely exhausted. That meant Jiang Chen had to be doubly cautious now.
"That Emperor's Descent Talisman — when Brother Ji gave it to me, he said it could be used twice. I've used it once, so there's one use remaining. I can't squander that last charge lightly. If I burn it, I'll have no defensive means left."
Thinking of this, Jiang Chen inwardly cursed the Shangping King. If that man hadn't attacked him, the talisman wouldn't have been wasted on a single use.
He could curse all he liked — the Shangping King was probably dead by now, and his resentment wouldn't change a thing.
Jiang Chen focused his full attention, opened all five senses, and glided forward with painstaking care.
Hmm?
Without warning, a soft "shushing shushing" sound reached his ears through the Wind-listening Ear. At first he thought he might have misheard.
But the sound only grew louder.
He scanned his surroundings and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Since cultivating the Wind-listening Ear, his hearing had never produced a false reading. The sound was as clear as a silkworm chewing mulberry leaves.
Jiang Chen listened carefully and realized the noise was coming from every direction. It didn't sound like anything threatening on its own, yet it filled him with an inexplicable sense of foreboding.
*Screech!*
A piercing cry suddenly tore through the air. High above in the clouds, a massive dark shadow plummeted downward — a great eagle, its wings flapping in a desperate frenzy, spinning in circles midair. Its eyes brimmed with pure panic.
Yes — panic.
In those eagle's eyes, Jiang Chen saw absolute, bone-deep terror.
One, two, countless more…
The sky was filling with spirit birds, shooting down from who-knew-where, landing in midair in waves, shrieking and wailing as though the end of the world had arrived.
The first eagle seemed to steel itself. With a sudden nosedive, it plunged straight into the grassland below.
In that instant, a streak of green lightning flickered through the undergrowth — a massive head lined with fangs lunged upward and swallowed the eagle whole.
Jiang Chen squinted for a closer look. It was an enormous green python.
Well, well — hidden that well, and he hadn't spotted it even from this close.
"What in the world is going on?" Jiang Chen stared, dumbfounded.
The spirit birds in the sky paid him no mind whatsoever. They continued plummeting into the grassland like dumplings dropped into a pot, one after another after another.
In the Expanse beyond, every living creature had its own territory.