The thirteenth day of the westward journey.
Qi Yun had lost count of how many wastelands he had crossed and how many barren mountains he had scaled. It felt as though, guided by some unseen force, he had stepped into another realm. After all, given his pace, let alone the Profound Yellow Origin Realm, he should have traveled extremely deep into the Outer Realm by now. How could he still be advancing? Furthermore, the Spiritual Qi here was so thin it was virtually nonexistent, and an indescribable deathly stillness permeated Heaven and Earth.
Yet, the wisp of residual thought in his sleeve throbbed with increasing intensity. Qi Yun did not suppress it. He merely followed its guidance, continuing all the way west.
The Mountain and River Cauldron hovered by his side, the swimming motions of its nine divine dragons becoming slow and solemn. Cai Shen remained silent, but the rapid fluctuations of his spiritual nature betrayed his inner turmoil.
