A sword hung at his waist, its hilt wet with rain, glinting with a cold light.
The leader, Wu Yidao, watched with eyes like a hawk, vigilantly scanning their surroundings for any potential danger.
However, as he scanned the area, his gaze would occasionally shift to the rear, revealing a look of deep reverence.
Behind the convoy, a young man on horseback followed at a leisurely pace.
One would notice something strange if they got closer.
The rain was coming down quite hard.
In stark contrast to the soaked escort convoy, this horse—aside from a few splashes on its hooves—was completely spotless. Both the animal and the young man riding it were unnaturally dry.
It was as if the falling rain was being blocked by an invisible barrier.
This young man was none other than Hu Qi, who had recently left Tai Ze Lake.
The reason for leaving Tai Ze Lake was, naturally, because of the revelation he had seen in the threads of fate.
