The mountain wind, carrying sand and gravel, swept across the cliff face. The Critical Stone cast an ethereal blue light under the sun, painting the surrounding mist an orange-red.
A deep pit, roughly ten feet in diameter, gaped like a pupil split open in the earth. Its edges were lined with freshly turned soil. Yin Zhi strode forward, and his expression froze at the first glance.
As the smell of rotting grass mixed with the scent of rust filled her nostrils, Wen Qian subconsciously tightened her grip on her clothes. Fragmented images suddenly flashed before her eyes.
Subconsciously, Wen Qian stepped forward and placed a hand on the slick stone wall. The sound of clanging metal immediately echoed in her ears.
As she stumbled, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. Chi Heng's warmth spread through her in an instant. "Don't touch that."
His low voice, mingling with the roar of a distant stream, made the tension in the air even thicker.
