With a deep inhale, the Soul Devouring Bird sucked in a vast amount of white fog. The fog roiled violently, forming countless distorted shapes as it was dragged toward the creature’s open beak. Many of the fog-born creatures were caught in the suction, their bodies unraveling as they were pulled in and devoured. Yet even as they vanished, more continued to form endlessly, erging from the mist as though the fog itself was alive.
Seeing this, the purple phantom beside Grey finally moved.
Its long, indistinct arms trailed through the air like flowing shadows before smashing down upon a newly ford creature. The instant contact was made, the fog creature was crushed apart, its form collapsing into scattered mist. Before the fog could regroup, the Soul Devouring Bird swept in and devoured it completely.
At the sa ti, Grey did not pause for even a breath.
His fists moved in rapid succession, so fast that only blurs remained where his arms should have been. Each strike was followed by deafening booms that echoed through the fog-filled space, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Every punch carried overwhelming force, shattering the fog creatures before him.
Yet despite all this destruction, Grey quickly noticed sothing unsettling.
There was no change.
No matter how many creatures he punched apart, how many the phantom crushed, or how many the Soul Devouring Bird devoured, more continued to erge without end. It was as though the fog itself was an inexhaustible source, endlessly birthing these monsters.
A narrow glint appeared in Grey’s eyes.
So this is the reason, he realized coldly. This must be why the captain warned us to be cautious... and why she said we must move forward at all costs.
If the fog creatures continued to increase and they were forced into prolonged combat, exhaustion would be inevitable. Even with his strength, he would eventually be overwheld. Worse still, at this pace, they might not even reach the altar the captain ntioned, let alone within a month.
Grey’s thoughts raced as he ca to a swift conclusion.
Fighting these creatures was aningless.
The mont he reached this realization, he stopped focusing on killing them and instead began to force his way forward. To him, exterminating the fog creatures was no longer important. What mattered was advancing, continuously and relentlessly, toward the source of light hanging high in the sky.
At the sa ti, he remained extrely wary.
If creatures stronger than these began to appear, the situation could deteriorate rapidly.
This thought caused Grey’s eyes to widen slightly. Without hesitation, he erupted with even greater speed. The purple phantom surged ahead of him, positioning itself at the forefront and violently clearing a path through the forming fog creatures.
The Soul Devouring Bird flickered through the mist, its form blurring as it devoured every fragnt of fog scattered in their path. Although Grey had not yet confird whether the white fog had any effect on his own cultivation, he could clearly sense that it was extrely beneficial to the Soul Devouring Everlasting Bird.
Its aura grew increasingly explosive, pulsing with violent intensity. A sharp glint flashed within its eyes, and most striking of all, the third tail on its body began to stir.
The tail, once pale and lifeless, slowly regained color. Faint strands of purple light flickered along its length, as though life was being breathed back into it.
Seeing this, Grey’s heart stirred.
He imdiately allowed the Soul Devouring Everlasting Bird to absorb the fog as fast as it could. At this mont, although the bird was already powerful, Grey knew it was still incomplete. Not only that, its overall level was far too low.
To Foundation Establishnt cultivators, this Emperor-level cultivation art would appear terrifyingly strong. But to cultivators above that realm, it might not even earn a second glance due to how underdeveloped it was.
"Emperor-level cultivation arts must have stages..." Grey muttered inwardly. "The level of my Emperor-level art should only be at the first stage. That’s why it has six tails. However, since the art is incomplete, only two of those tails truly possess life."
As this thought crossed his mind, a fog creature managed to slip past the phantom’s defense and suddenly appeared right in front of him.
It let out a shrill, sinister cry and lunged forward, its twisted mouth opening wide as it tried to devour him whole.
A bright glint flashed in Grey’s eyes.
With calm precision, he shifted his body and dodged to the side. A small dagger appeared in his hand in the sa instant, and he slashed cleanly at the creature’s neck.
Half of its neck was severed, its head already beginning to fall.
Yet the creature did not stop.
Despite its mortal wound, it continued lunging forward, its claws stretching wide, aiming to tear Grey apart.
Grey remained expressionless, as though this was sothing he had long grown accustod to.
His dagger flashed repeatedly. One slash. Two slashes. Three...
By the ti he finished, the creature finally let out a piercing wail before collapsing entirely, its body dissolving into white fog.
The fog was swiftly absorbed by the Soul Devouring Bird.
Throughout the entire exchange, Grey never once slowed down. However, as he continued advancing, a different thought gradually took shape in his mind.
Although it doesn’t seem like it, he thought calmly, this endless battle is a form of serendipity.
Endlessly fighting, endlessly killing—this constant pressure forced one to sharpen their instincts. Over ti, the body would naturally fall into a rhythm of combat, growing more efficient, more precise, and more ruthless.
As this thought settled, Grey slashed at another creature that was forming beside him.
The fog creature hadn’t even fully taken shape before his dagger tore through it. Unsatisfied, Grey slashed several more tis, ensuring that no trace of its form remained.
Before the creature could even let out a sound, Grey executed his twenty-first slash.
The mont the final strike landed, the creature dissipated silently, completely erased.
It hadn’t even lasted a few seconds.
Still, Grey felt it wasn’t enough.
Several more figures began forming around him, their outlines erging from the fog. With a faint sigh of displeasure, Grey tightened his grip on the dagger.
Then, without hesitation, he surged forward once more, continuing the fight.
Ti slowly passed, marked only by the length it would normally take for several candles to burn out completely. Yet even after all that ti, Grey was still rushing forward, a calm and emotionless expression fixed firmly on his face.
The dagger he had been using earlier had long since been replaced. In its place was a slightly longer, sharper blade, its edge glinting faintly whenever it passed through the fog. More than that, Grey now wielded a dagger in each hand, his movents fluid and precise as he cut down anything that dared approach him.
As the slaughter continued, Grey gradually noticed a pattern.
Whenever he killed all the fog creatures within a certain radius, no new creatures would imdiately form if he stopped and waited. For a short period, the surroundings would remain eerily quiet, granting him a brief chance to recover and steady his breathing.
However, this peace ca at a cost.
If he rested for too long, the fog would violently churn once more, and the number of creatures that erged afterward would be triple the amount he had faced before. Because of this, Grey learned not to linger in one place. He was almost always on the move, advancing steadily through the fog while maintaining a delicate balance between rest and constant combat.
During the brief monts when he did pause, Grey quickly tested sothing else.
He began to observe whether the white fog itself had any use for his cultivation.
To his surprise, it did.
The fog creatures behaved much like real living beings. Once slain, their essence could be refined and absorbed, contributing to the opening of his spirit perforations. Although the process was painfully slow—far slower than what he was accustod to—it was still undeniable progress.
More importantly, the fog never stopped producing these creatures.
As long as Grey remained within this space, the fog continued to seep into his body, where it was refined little by little and converted into energy that worked toward opening more spirit perforations.
’This is also another gain,’ Grey thought silently as he continued to absorb the fog without pause.
Behind him, the Soul Devouring Everlasting Bird hovered silently, its presence both majestic and eerie. It opened its beak and began to devour the surrounding fog greedily, pulling it in from every direction.
It did not discriminate.
Even fog that had yet to transform into creatures was sucked in without rcy. To the Soul Devouring Everlasting Bird, this fog was nothing short of precious nourishnt.
Although its rate of improvent was also slow, there was a clear change.
The third tail of the Soul Devouring Everlasting Bird was flickering more intensely now, faint light pulsing through it with increasing frequency. Each flicker was stronger than before, as if the tail were gradually waking from a long slumber.
Grey noticed this imdiately.
He knew that once the third tail fully transford and was no longer dim, he would be one step closer to completing his Emperor-level cultivation art. When all six tails shone brilliantly with light, the Soul Devouring Everlasting Bird would finally beco a complete and perfect Emperor-level cultivation art.
And that realization only strengthened his resolve to keep moving forward.
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