Bai Xeitian's eyes flicked sharply from one direction to another, his gaze slicing through layers of cloud and qi as he scanned the surroundings with ruthless vigilance.
Someone was here.
He could feel it.
A faint fluctuation—subtle, elusive, like a ripple brushed across the surface of still water. The presence wasn't strong, yet it was unmistakably real. And no matter how he probed, no matter how he expanded his divine sense, he could not lock onto its exact position.
This is bad.
The realization struck him like cold water.
Bai Xeitian's expression tightened almost imperceptibly, but inside, alarm bells were ringing violently. He was not some half-baked ascender or newly forged immortal. Though he had yet to formally enter an Immortal River, he was already a true Immortal Realm cultivator—his mortal shell refined into a self-contained Immortal Kingdom, his body a walking domain.
And yet…
