Chapter 480 - 477: Great Success in the Thousand-Mile Soul Lock

Chapter 480: Chapter 477: Great Success in the Thousand-Mile Soul Lock

Fang Han’s steps faltered the moment he saw the boundary stone.

Behind him, Yun Muyao, Luo Yuntian, and the others also stopped, their gazes falling on the two words inscribed there.

No one spoke, but the tense atmosphere that had persisted for an entire day and night quietly slackened.

Qingyang County.

They were finally back.

Fang Han slowly exhaled, feeling a wave of exhaustion from deep within his bones wash over him.

The wounds on his body—torn by puppet claws and grazed by Xue Yuanlang’s Palm Wind—ached dully beneath their scabs.

After traveling for more than a day with only two short breaks, his legs now felt as heavy as lead.

The other eight were in the same state.

The hem of Yun Muyao’s dress was caked with mud. A light veil masked her face, revealing only a pair of clear, cold eyes where the exhaustion was almost palpable.

Luo Yuntian’s face was pale, his aura faint and unsteady.

Kuang Tu shouldered his greatblade, his burly frame still ramrod straight, but he couldn’t suppress his heavy panting.

Chen Wuhen, Su Yuwei, Mo Chen, Liu Ruyan, Wang Miao—exhaustion was etched onto every one of their faces.

"We’re back in Qingyang County. The pursuers should have given up. Find a spot and rest for half an hour."

Chen Wanjun stopped and turned, his gaze sweeping over the exhausted faces of Fang Han and the other eight.

"Finally, we can get some rest!"

At his words, relief washed over the group as if they’d been granted amnesty, and they immediately began searching for a concealed place to rest.

Once they found a spot, Kuang Tu plunged his greatblade into the ground and plopped down on a rock, letting out a long, deep breath.

Chen Wuhen found an old tree and sat with his back against the trunk. He drew his folding fan from his waist and began to wave it gently, his movements far slower than usual.

Su Yuwei and Liu Ruyan sat side-by-side on a flat, blue-tinged stone. Both were pale as they silently took out water and dry rations and began to chew slowly.

Mo Chen sat by himself a short distance away, his face as expressionless as ever, his eyes closed in rest.

Wang Miao simply collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

Yun Muyao sat down cross-legged, her simple white dress fanned out over the grass. She unhooked her waterskin and took a small sip.

RUSH—

Fang Han leaned against a large rock and sat, closing his eyes to even out his breathing.

The Inner Qi in his body began to slowly circulate along the pathways of the Cyan Profound Technique, nourishing his wounds that had yet to fully heal.

Remnants of the Creation Pill’s Medicinal Power, combined with the nourishment of his Inner Qi, caused the dull ache from his injuries to gradually fade.

HUMMM—

The perception of his Thousand-Mile Soul Lock technique remained active, blanketing the surrounding few miles.

Even though they had entered Qingyang County, he didn’t let down his guard.

Qingyang County was Qingxuan Sect territory, and it was unlikely their enemies would pursue them this far. Still, he couldn’t rule out the possibility of them taking a desperate gamble.

Thunderlight Pavilion had lost a First-Grade Elder and several of their most talented disciples.

A loss of that magnitude was enough to drive a top-level power to madness.

And a maddened power was capable of anything.

Within his perception, every aura in the surrounding miles presented itself clearly.

Birds and beasts darting through the woods, insects squirming beneath rotting leaves, the distant trickling of a stream, the faint aura of fish in the water—everything was clear and distinct, perfectly layered.

For more than a day, he had maintained his Thousand-Mile Soul Lock at full power. The drain on his Inner Qi was immense, but so were the rewards.

This period of high-intensity, continuous use had improved his proficiency with the Top-Grade Tracking Secret Technique more than months of regular Cultivation.

He could feel himself drawing closer and closer to the next Realm, on the verge of a breakthrough.

Suddenly—

HUMMM...

A soft hum, one only he could perceive, emanated from deep within him.

The sound was so faint as to be almost imperceptible, yet it felt as if an invisible door had just been opened.

In that instant, the range of his perception suddenly expanded.

His perception, which had previously covered a few miles, abruptly surged outward, extending by more than two full miles to reach a total range of five.

Not only that.

Auras left behind half a month ago, or even longer, which had since become exceptionally faint, were now clearly discernible.

’Thousand-Mile Soul Lock, Great Success.’

Fang Han opened his eyes, a flicker of delight in their depths.

’He hadn’t expected to break through at a time like this.’

’It was a pleasant surprise.’

With his Thousand-Mile Soul Lock at the Great Success Realm, his abilities for both tracking and surveillance would be drastically improved.

He was about to savor the changes brought by his breakthrough when suddenly—

His expression changed drastically.

His gaze snapped in a certain direction, his right hand instinctively moving to his sword hilt.

There, a few hundred meters away, was an aura.

It was exceptionally faint, almost nonexistent, as if it had merged with the forest itself.

If his Thousand-Mile Soul Lock hadn’t just broken through, expanding his range and increasing his precision, he never would have noticed its existence.

"Fang Han?"

Chen Wanjun noticed something was wrong. His gaze hardened as he asked in a low voice,

"What did you find?"

Yun Muyao, Luo Yuntian, and the others were instantly on alert. They scrambled to their feet, hands on their weapons, and looked in the direction Fang Han was staring.

"Someone’s here."

Fang Han said in a low, heavy voice.

’He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed them before. If his perception hadn’t just improved, he’d probably still be completely oblivious.’

"Their technique for Concealing Breath is extremely advanced. If my Perception Secret Technique hadn’t just broken through, I almost wouldn’t have noticed them."

At his words, everyone’s expression changed.

To be able to evade Fang Han’s perception, the newcomer’s breath concealment abilities had to be extraordinary.

If that person had launched a sneak attack, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

"Who is it?"

Chen Wanjun’s brow furrowed. He placed his right hand on the hilt of his blade as the aura around him began to circulate.

Yun Muyao drew her sword three inches from its scabbard. Luo Yuntian, Kuang Tu, and the others also took up defensive stances, their eyes locked on that direction.

The atmosphere in the forest grew taut.

Just then—

A figure emerged from the woods, walking at a leisurely pace.

It was an old man.

He was lean and gaunt, dressed in a deep cyan robe whose corners fluttered gently in the mountain breeze.

His salt-and-pepper hair was casually tied back with a Wooden Hairpin. His wrinkles were as deep as if carved by a knife, and his skin had the pallor of someone who rarely saw the sun.

He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his pace unhurried, as if simply taking a stroll through the forest.

He emanated no powerful aura, appearing for all the world like an ordinary old man.

Fang Han’s brow furrowed even deeper.

In his perception, the old man’s aura remained faint and indistinct, flickering between presence and absence, as though he might melt into the surrounding forest and disappear at any moment.

’This was not normal.’

His hand remained on his sword hilt, Inner Qi circulating silently through his body, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

However—

"Supreme Elder?!"

Chen Wanjun’s voice suddenly rang out, filled with unconcealed astonishment.

The gravity on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a deep, heartfelt reverence.

He strode forward, bowed deeply, and said in a voice filled with reverence,

"Chen Wanjun greets the Supreme Elder."

’Supreme Elder?’

Fang Han was taken aback.

Yun Muyao, Luo Yuntian, and the others were also stunned.

’This ordinary-looking old man was actually a Supreme Elder of the Qingxuan Sect?’

"Disciple Fang Han greets the Supreme Elder."

Fang Han was the first to recover. He quickly released his sword hilt and bowed.

"We disciples greet the Supreme Elder!"

As if waking from a dream, Yun Muyao, Luo Yuntian, and the others also bowed hastily.

"There is no need for such formalities."

Gu Changqing stopped and swept his gaze over the group, nodding slightly.

His voice was aged yet serene. His gaze passed over Yun Muyao, Luo Yuntian, and the others before finally settling on Fang Han. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

A faint trace of approval flickered in his sharp, discerning eyes.

"To be able to sense my presence... your skill with Perception Secret Techniques is truly impressive."

"You praise me too highly, Supreme Elder. This disciple was merely fortunate enough to have a breakthrough. Otherwise, I would not have been able to detect your presence."

Fang Han replied quickly, his tone humble.

Gu Changqing shook his head slightly without saying more, but the approval in his gaze deepened.

"Supreme Elder, was it you who secretly intervened to stop our pursuers?"

Chen Wanjun straightened up and looked at Gu Changqing, asking the question on his mind.

"The people from Thunderlight Pavilion have retreated."

Gu Changqing gave a slight nod.

His voice remained placid, as if he were discussing a trivial matter.

But the meaning behind his words sent a jolt through Fang Han and the others.

’No wonder they had made it back to Qingyang County so smoothly.’

’It wasn’t that the people from Thunderlight Pavilion hadn’t come after them. They had, but the Supreme Elder had forced them to retreat.’

"Thank you, Supreme Elder!"

Fang Han and the others bowed, their voices filled with gratitude.

Gu Changqing waved his hand.

"It was nothing."

He turned and walked away.

"The crisis has passed. Rest well before you return to the sect."

As his voice faded, his figure vanished as silently as it had appeared.

It was as if he had never been there at all.

Fang Han stared at the spot where the figure had vanished, silent for a long time.

’So this is a Grandmaster Powerhouse.’

’Arriving without a shadow, leaving without a trace.’

’If his Thousand-Mile Soul Lock hadn’t broken through, he would never have even sensed his presence.’

Phew—

Chen Wanjun let out a long breath and turned to face the others.

"Did you all hear that?"

His voice was steady, but it carried an undeniable note of relief.

"The pursuers have retreated. The crisis is over. We can finally rest easy."

Everyone nodded, the last traces of tension finally melting from their faces.

After resting for half an hour, the group’s exhaustion from days of nonstop travel had eased slightly.

Chen Wanjun stood up and surveyed the group. Seeing that some color had returned to their faces, he nodded.

"Let’s go. Pinggu City is thirty li ahead. We’ll rest there."

The group rose to their feet in agreement.

For this group of Martial Artists, the weakest of whom was at the Fifth Grade, a distance of thirty li was nothing.

Even with their injuries, it was a journey of no more than half an hour.

Half an hour later, the silhouette of Pinggu City appeared on the horizon.

The city walls weren’t particularly high, built from dusty gray stone blocks and standing about seven or eight zhang tall. They gave off a gray sheen in the afternoon sun.

Pedestrians were sparse at the city gate, where soldiers leaned against the gatehouse, yawning. They gave the party of dust-covered, blood-stained Martial Artists a second glance but didn’t bother to question them.

It was obvious at a glance that these were Martial Artists, not people that lowly soldiers like them could afford to provoke.