"Unless Milo isn't in this area at all," Liu Yue said, wiping her short blade, its edge reflecting her cold eyes. "Or, he simply thinks nothing of an attack of this caliber."
Zhou Ming leaned against the rock face, the lens of his tactical scope glinting faintly.
He didn't speak, but his finger remained on the trigger guard of his sniper rifle.
Xu Wuyi sat cross-legged deep inside the cave, his eyes slightly closed. His Spiritual Perception spread out like a great, formless net, expanding from the cave in all directions.
Powered by the *Hundred Refinements Melting Furnace*, his perception was far keener than that of other Martial Artists at his level, allowing him to capture many subtle fluctuations imperceptible to ordinary people.
The gurgle of the underground river at the canyon floor, the skittering of insects in rock crevices, the mournful whistle of the wind through distant deadwood…all these sounds wove together, forming the land's unique "pulse."
