Bai Zihan emerged from the torn rift of space at the edge of the Great Wilderness.
The sky here was darker, the clouds tinged with an ashen hue, as if the land itself rejected the heavens.
Below him stretched endless desolation—jagged mountains, cracked earth, and forests so ancient and twisted that even sunlight struggled to penetrate them.
He stopped mid-air.
But finding the Demonic Cultivators would not be easy.
The Great Wilderness was vast—far too vast. Even if thousands of people searched for a year, they wouldn't be able to explore 10 percent of it.
Worse still, there was no guarantee they were even here anymore.
They might have already retreated after the failed invasion.
Bai Zihan closed his eyes briefly, then spoke inwardly.
"Feilian," he said.
Within his sea of consciousness, a luminous figure stirred.
Her voice echoed, calm yet edged with unmistakable concern.
"Bai Zihan," Feilian said slowly, "I advise you to retreat!"
Her tone sharpened.
