Afterward, he and the other Wei people would escape the city safely through another teleportation array that had already been set up.

Miao Feng Xian had deduced this entire plan, which is why he had erased the lines on the ground with his foot. Even with spirit stones inserted, Yun Ya couldn’t activate the array.

Now, the Wei Kingdom’s State Preceptor was still more than two li away from the main palace. Without the Small Mountain-Moving Array, it was nearly impossible for him to break through the heavy encirclement and return.

Mo Tizhun also recognized his predicament and felt satisfied, finally laughing out loud: “Yun Ya, let’s see where you can escape now!” He had come to the Yao Kingdom to rescue the princess, but bringing down this lifelong powerful enemy would be an unexpected delight.

Yun Ya showed no sign of disappointment, merely twitching the corner of his mouth: “Then keep your eyes wide open and watch carefully!”

Before his words faded, he conjured two black spheres from nowhere, each the size of a plum, and hurled them at Mo Tizhun and another cultivator.

Coming from his hand, both men naturally didn’t dare to intercept them directly and dodged aside. Unexpectedly, these objects didn’t need to touch the ground—they exploded in mid-air, releasing massive amounts of dark green smoke!

In just two breaths, the smoke-filled a space within a radius of a hundred paces. The Yao soldiers caught within cried out in agony as their clothes corroded, skin festered, and flesh dissolved. Their comrades tried to pull them out with weapons, but ordinary swords and spears that touched the vapor corroded like white wax meeting fire, hissing away to nothing!

The cultivators at the center of the dense fog naturally suffered even more. Although they had protective energy shields, this substance could even corrode such barriers, causing excruciating pain in no time.

Worst of all, the fog was so thick that one couldn’t see their hand in front of them, and even spiritual perception couldn’t extend outward. So the Yao cultivators had no choice but to retreat, withdrawing from the fog’s range before suffering severe injuries.

The moment the fog spread, Yun Ya lunged toward Miao Feng Xian. This man-made fog couldn’t be dispersed by wind or diminished by fire. Its only drawback was its short duration—merely twenty breaths. He still remembered his mission’s purpose, wanting to complete it before leaving.

Miao Feng Xian felt the pressure intensify.

Now both sides couldn’t see each other, fighting in darkness solely by hearing. Even with Miao Feng Xian’s exceptional senses, this experience was too novel for him and genuinely difficult to adapt to. In just three or four breaths, they exchanged over a hundred strikes, even more intense than before. Miao Feng Xian suffered seven new wounds, and his left shoulder lost a chunk of flesh—had he not dodged quickly enough, what Yun Ya would have scooped out wouldn’t have been shoulder muscle, but his pounding heart!

Miao Feng Xian gritted his teeth for two breaths before finally calling out: “State Preceptor Mo!”

The fog blocked vision and spiritual perception but didn’t hinder sound transmission.

Mo Tizhun’s voice immediately approached from a distance: “Coming!”

As soon as he spoke, Miao Feng Xian felt the pressure on him decrease significantly. Mo Tizhun had located his position by sound and thus estimated Yun Ya’s whereabouts. Miao Feng Xian seized the opportunity to silently step aside several paces.

Now, even Yun Ya couldn’t find him.

Yun Ya made two empty strikes, then silently retreated as well.

The situation was untenable, and he had no reason to stay. His most important task now was to lead the Wei cultivators out of the Yao capital; otherwise, Wei’s assassination plan would truly be a case of losing more than was gained.

By now, even Yun Ya felt somewhat weakened: he had numerous wounds, particularly a one-inch deep cut on his lower back from Miao Feng Xian’s blade.

For powerful experts like them, their weapons carried special properties. When Miao Feng Xian was struck by Yun Ya’s sword, the tissue around the wound would alternately freeze and burn as if on fire, causing unbearable pain and rapid necrosis. When Mo Tizhun came to his aid, he first cut away the flesh near the wound before continuing to fight. The same applied to Yun Ya being struck by Miao Feng Xian’s blade—the spiritual energy from the cut invaded Yun Ya’s lower back, causing severe, unstoppable bleeding that even precious medicine couldn’t stanch.

This position wasn’t convenient for self-treatment, especially since Yun Ya was simultaneously facing so many enemies and couldn’t spare effort for self-protection. Now he faced a new problem:

Outside the dense fog waited thousands of Yao soldiers forming a human wall, difficult even for him to breach.

This was what Miao and Mo truly relied on.

The best solution now was to change his appearance and escape the encirclement during the chaos, then find an opportunity to regroup with the other Wei cultivators. Just then, he felt a slight breeze beside him and knew someone was approaching.

He was immune to the fog’s harmful effects, but it was one of the ancient immortals’ treasures, and even he couldn’t see through it. In such pitch-black surroundings, when someone approached, the natural response was to strike first and ask questions later.

However, just as Yun Ya gathered his energy, a feeble voice nearby said: “It’s me! Follow me quickly.”

The voice sounded confident that Yun Ya would recognize it.

Indeed, Yun Ya immediately recognized the voice, and then felt somewhat stunned:

Feng Miao Jun.

Why wasn’t she in New Xia enjoying her life as a carefree queen? How did she end up here?

Most peculiar was how she had accurately located him in the dense fog that blocked everyone’s spiritual perception.

Yun Ya remained suspicious, not relaxing his guard. After all, there were many strange individuals among cultivators, and it wouldn’t be surprising if someone could imitate Feng Miao Jun’s voice perfectly. In this environment, luring him into a trap would be all too easy.

But then he heard: “Bai Ban recognized your weapon.”

She seemed to know his doubts and addressed them precisely.

Although Bai Ban was severely injured and couldn’t create a perfect illusion array, its innate abilities remained. The dark green fog blocked spiritual perception but couldn’t obstruct its natural sensitivity to rare metals. It knew the material of its master’s sword better than anyone. In this green world, Yun Ya’s divine sword was like a cursor on a radar, clearly guiding Bai Ban to it.

Finding the sword naturally meant finding its master.

Feng Miao Jun extended her hand, and Yun Ya grasped it without hesitation. Her hand was soft and warm but contained a hard object.

The object had the coldness unique to metal—thin, long, and sharp at one end, like… a hairpin?

“Listen to my command.”

Feng Miao Jun’s voice was as thin as a mosquito’s but carried undeniable confidence. “Put it on!”

Yun Ya gently squeezed her hand in understanding.

By now, the dense fog had lasted for ten breaths and was about to dissipate. Mo Tizhun had already rushed out of the fog’s range and knew it wouldn’t last long. He took a deep breath and shouted: “Form ranks! Don’t let him escape!”

The surrounding soldiers stirred, tightening their defenses even further.

This opponent was unprecedentedly powerful—the Wei Kingdom’s State Preceptor. Who wouldn’t feel anxious? Whose palms wouldn’t be drenched in cold sweat?