After being ambushed by those bastards from the Shadow Fiends on the way, the atmosphere in the team completely changed.
Although they were nervous before, at least they still had some spirit for reinforcements; now, they were all like birds startled by the mere twang of a bow, seeing ambushes everywhere they looked.
The flying ship flew so cautiously that it practically stopped every three steps and probed every five, its speed as slow as a crawling turtle.
Commander Lei's shoulder wound had been hastily bandaged, and while the bleeding had stopped, his face remained ashen, his eyes scanning the wasteland below like knives.
Master Zhao, along with Fang Hao and several other Formation Masters, was even more vigilant, spreading out their Divine Sense like a net, terrified of stepping into another lethal Formation.
After flying with such trepidation for another two days, they finally flew out of that lifeless wasteland of withered bones.
