Without wasting another heartbeat, Grey surged toward the source of the faint spiritual connection that tugged at his senses. The mont he moved, his figure beca a blur, cutting through the air with silent precision. Each step he took seed to erase the distance between him and his target. The old man ahead, though clearly moving at his full speed, could not hope to compare with Grey’s agility. The gap between them shrank at a terrifying pace, like a shadow overtaken by the rising dawn.
But just as Grey crossed into a thousand-foot radius of the old man, a sound... no, a presence, slamd into his mind.
A cold snort echoed directly within his consciousness, neither loud nor soft, yet it struck with the force of divine thunder. It was as if a hundred lightning bolts had detonated inside his skull, and for a brief instant, Grey’s vision went white. His mind reeled under the sudden assault, and his body froze mid-stride. That single snort carried not only imnse power but also an indescribable arrogance, a disdain that declared dominion over heaven and earth.
Before Grey could even regain his composure, a suffocating divine sense descended upon him like an invisible mountain. It pressed against his very soul, making every muscle in his body tense instinctively. He didn’t need to guess; he knew he had been discovered. His attempt at concealnt had failed.
A deep rumble echoed through the heavens, followed by a blinding flash. A long red streak tore across the sky, swift and violent, like a celestial arrow released by a god. The oppressive aura it radiated was overwhelming, majestic, fiery, and ancient. The very air trembled under its might. Below, cultivators of all levels instinctively halted whatever they were doing, their faces paling as the oppressive intent washed over them. Even ordinary mortals, unaware of the cultivation world, felt an inexplicable pressure in their chests and turned their eyes upward in fear and awe.
The crimson streak curved gracefully through the heavens before plumting toward the earth. It struck the ground several dozen ters from Grey with a resounding boom. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, tearing through the terrain and stirring up clouds of dust and sand. Pebbles and debris danced in the air as the world seed to tremble in reverence before the arrival of a higher being.
Though the entire sequence appeared long and drawn out, in truth, only seven breaths had passed. In that short span of ti, Grey felt as though he had been dragged through a storm of fire. His body temperature soared rapidly, a searing heat flooding his veins, as if he were standing at the mouth of a raging volcano.
Fortunately, the Cold Yin core nestled within his dantian flared to life. A stream of icy spiritual energy coursed through his ridians, cooling his blood and soothing the fiery invasion. His skin shimred faintly with a bluish hue as the frost-like energy stabilized his condition. Still, Grey’s heart remained heavy. The divine sense had not retreated, it was spreading further, probing everything within an enormous radius. Its reach extended far beyond the limits of his own perception, and the sheer scale of it sent chills down his spine.
At that mont, a single, dreadful realization surfaced in his mind, one that explained everything he had just witnessed.
"Foundation Establishnt Realm..."
The words echoed in his thoughts like a death knell.
The city lord - a cultivator at the level of Early Foundation Establishnt had taken notice of him.
And Grey knew that from this point onward, even retreating would not be so simple.
The divine sense that had monts ago spread across the surroundings like an invisible tide suddenly withdrew with astonishing speed, vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared. The air itself seed to tremble under the residual pressure it left behind. Grey felt his breath catch as an even more overwhelming sensation descended upon him, a suffocating awareness that locked onto him with pinpoint precision.
This ti, however, it was not the impersonal sweep of divine sense probing him. No, the Foundation Establishnt expert himself had fixed his attention directly upon Grey. The difference was like being brushed by a passing breeze versus standing beneath the unyielding weight of a mountain.
As the last of the dust and debris settled from the earlier impact, the devastation it revealed was staggering. The ground had been torn apart, and at the center of the destruction lay a crater nearly three ters deep, its edges still smoking faintly from the intense heat. At the heart of that crater stood a middle-aged man clad in flowing crimson robes. His presence radiated authority and arrogance in equal asure. The air around him shimred with waves of heat so fierce that it distorted the very light, and the faint scent of scorched earth lingered with every breath.
Even without a word, Grey could tell the source of this terrifying aura. It ca from the Spirit Fires burning within the man’s body, the mark of his cultivation at the Foundation Establishnt realm. Although the flas were not physically visible, their presence could be felt with every pulse of energy that rolled off him. A single careless step closer and the heat alone might have seared Grey’s skin.
He watched as the man’s cold, disdainful eyes locked onto him, sharp and unyielding like blades. In that mont, Grey knew without a doubt that conflict was inevitable. Whether he wanted to or not, he would have to face this foe.
Still, he was no stranger to danger. mories flashed through his mind, his first confrontation with a Foundation Establishnt expert during the siege on the Shadow Sect. That had been the battle where Caster, Ange, Luo, and he had fought side by side, reckless and desperate, to survive. It was also the battle that had led him to uncover the Shadow Sect’s secret art, the elusive and deadly Shadow Technique he continued to cultivate even now.
Later, fate had thrown him into another deadly struggle, the battle alongside the Captain against a Foundation Establishnt cultivator who possessed not one but three Spirit Fires. The black clothed man’s strength had been overwhelming, his flas capable of reducing mountains to ash. Grey and the Captain had fought with everything they had, yet even together, they could barely scratch their opponent. Still, they had survived, battered, bloodied, but alive. And that, to Grey, had been victory enough.
Now, standing once again before a Foundation Establishnt cultivator, Grey felt that familiar tension return, that razor-thin balance between courage and despair. His instincts scread at him to flee, to disappear before the oppressive aura bearing down on him could crush him completely. But he knew better. Turning his back now would not save him. Once locked onto by such a being, escape was nothing more than a fantasy.
The only outco was to fight... Or to die.
**☺️😉**
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