In the thick fog, the overwhelming sense of oppression surged, making one's heart race, as if they couldn't resist the urge to turn and flee.
However, the three of them were not ordinary people. Their expressions remained calm, unaffected by the oppressive fog.
The horse snorted, not stopping, and continued trotting forward.
The spiritual power of the three spread out, sensing the surrounding environment.
Before long, the mist surged violently, with dozens of ghostly green eyes flickering in and out of view in the fog.
"Senior, let me." Song Changming, being the youngest among the three, spoke first.
"No need." Nan Wuji raised his hand, and soon there were eight Crimson Swords at his fingertips that Song Changming had seen before.
With just a thought, the Crimson Swords traced arcs of red light, instantly vanishing into the fog.
Moments later, the eight Crimson Swords returned, transforming back into Inner Qi and merging into Nan Wuji's body.
