SWOOSH!
Without further hesitation, Fang Han executed the Wind and Cloud Escape. His figure became like a wisp of green smoke melting into the night wind, silently slipping into the dense forest.
The night was as dark as ink, blanketing the rolling, forested mountains.
The branches and leaves of ancient, towering trees rustled in the night breeze, casting mottled, swaying shadows that looked like countless lurking phantoms.
The air was filled with the raw scent of soil, the musty odor of decaying leaves, and the faint rustling of nocturnal insects and beasts.
BZZZZ—
As he ran, Fang Han pushed his Spirit Smelling Technique, which had already reached the Mastery Realm, to its limits. His nostrils keenly captured the three lingering human scents ahead.
The scents were like three faint yet distinct, invisible threads winding their way through the vast ocean of forest smells.
One trail carried the distinct stench of blood, left by the injured Steward from the Qingxuan Sect.
