Chapter 64: An Ominous Aura

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About two hundred miles from Floating Cloud Pass, at a recently conquered demon stronghold, Zhou Wu’s expression was cold as he reached for the Stone of Transmission. Though he received twelve full seconds of divine radiance, he did not acquire an external martial technique. He had already obtained the ninth level of the Golden Bell Shield technique at the previous demon stronghold, which seemed to be the upper limit of that skill.

“Well, this is good enough,” Zhou Wu thought with satisfaction. The twelve seconds of divine radiance had thoroughly broken through his bottleneck at the ninth cycle, and his spiritual strength had grown considerably. Now, he was certain he surpassed that fool Wei.

That fool Wei, at this moment, was likely still guarding Liu Sui at Floating Cloud Pass. What a pity—such is the weakness of ordinary men: a few tearful pleas from a beautiful woman and their hearts soften, eager to play the hero, oblivious to what they’re missing. How does the saying go? “Pity their misfortune, rage at their lack of ambition.”

Over the past day, that fellow had missed too much. The two waves of Shadow Curse had not been particularly powerful; even if one’s strength was lacking, a resolute mind could withstand them. Thus, not only Zhou Wu’s team, but even other solo squads had profited handsomely. Any random group could defeat three to five demon squads—not all trial participants experienced divine radiance, but at least half did.

Now, with just over a hundred miles left before escaping the poison zone, Zhou Wu estimated that once they were free, their crippled server would have at least three hundred people advancing to the seventh cycle.

Three hundred trial participants at the seventh cycle—what an exhilarating prospect!

At that point, even if Wei survived, at best he’d be at the eighth cycle, for he could not linger in the poison zone for long. Zhou Wu, judging by his own strength, could endure at most two more rounds of the Shadow Curse, but in truth, after the third wave tomorrow, they would have to leave before the fourth wave began, as he needed to care for those with weaker abilities.

Yes, he had promised: no abandonment, no forsaking. Zhou Wu, true to his word.

That was the bigger picture.

“Zhou Wu, don’t you feel something is off tonight?” A figure leapt onto the stronghold’s wall like a phantom swallow—it was Yang Yufeng, who had been soloing these past days. He had broken through to the eighth cycle, and his spiritual strength was even a touch higher than Zhou Wu’s.

Zhou Wu frowned slightly, suppressing his disdain. It couldn’t be compared; Yang Yufeng, soloing demon squads, always touched the Stone of Transmission first, receiving the most divine radiance and fastest spiritual growth. At this rate, he would soon advance to the ninth cycle.

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Meanwhile, Zhou Wu had many core members to care for. Though his gains were substantial, his growth was slower. Still, he would have a mature, powerful team; once they escaped the poison zone and had time to train, his group would soon boast at least twenty eighth-cycle professionals.

What could Yang Yufeng gain? Nothing but solitude. The dozens who initially followed him, now only a handful remained alive.

“It’s normal. Tomorrow is the third wave of the Shadow Curse. Its power will rise to sixty percent. Your spiritual strength grew too quickly, so you’re sensitive to this ominous atmosphere; but as an eighth-cycle Phantom Swallow, what is there to fear?” Zhou Wu sneered. He felt the same unsettling aura, but not to the point of panic.

“No, something’s wrong. Zhou Wu, I advise you to lead your people and travel through the night. Escape the poison zone before the third wave hits. There’s just over a hundred miles left, perhaps one more demon stronghold ahead. Tomorrow morning, breakfast in Cangwu City—wouldn’t that be delightful?” Yang Yufeng’s face was grave. His sensitivity was unsettling. Of course, his main reason was that he’d already gained enough and wanted to retreat to Cangwu City for further development.

“Cangwu City?” Zhou Wu was tempted. He had once arrived early at Floating Cloud City, earning valuable time and secret techniques for refining black iron, profiting greatly.

This round should be no different. But he needed to care for his team’s core members; two or three dozen people needed to take turns under the divine radiance, as promised—he could not let morale slip.

“Hmph! Zhou Wu, you’ll regret this! Is anyone willing to go with me?” Yang Yufeng called out, but no one answered—not even his former followers. His reputation, after days of hoarding rewards, had soured.

Besides, as an eighth-cycle Phantom Swallow, his speed was unmatched; in danger, those who followed him would only serve as cannon fodder.

In the end, Yang Yufeng vanished into the night, bitter and alone.

He had hoped to solo a few more times before leaving the poison zone, but these fools wouldn’t cooperate.

“Heh! Yang Yufeng, the idiot. Let’s see how he fares next. One mustn’t be too much like Wei the fool, nor too much like Yang Yufeng,” someone spat in a corner of the stronghold—a seventh-cycle Mountain Mover, the leader of a small solo squad.

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Over the past few days, he had led his squad through three demon scout teams, gaining some renown. His words drew cheerful laughter.

Yet someone else sneered, “Yang Yufeng is an arrogant fool, but if you really think Wei is just a fool, then you’re the real fool.”

“Idiots, open your eyes. The sly and treacherous, those who seem loyal yet are cunning—that’s exactly his type!”

For a while, the crowd debated, reflecting deeply, but ultimately, most were filled with regret.

“Brother Dong, you were once close to Wei. Do you think he’ll make it out alive?” someone asked Han Dong, who, having advanced to the fourth cycle as a Purple Mist, had gained some notoriety.

Most importantly, with his fourth-cycle strength, he could withstand the Shadow Curse without lasting harm—a feat Zhou Wu had heard of and admired.

People asked for his technique, but Han Dong only smiled. He wasn’t being stingy; it was simply easier said than done.

He had survived by gritting his teeth, enduring through sheer willpower.

It was remarkable—some fifth-cycle professionals couldn’t endure and were ruined. Yet he not only survived, but his Purple Mist technique benefited greatly. With several exposures to divine radiance, he felt sure he’d soon advance to the fifth cycle.

Otherwise, why would Zhou Wu personally invite him to join?

As for Wei of Wei City, whether he was truly foolish or merely cunning,

What did it matter to him?

Let it all fade with the past!