Zhang Yue and the others continued on their journey beneath the gloom cast by the prophecy. Although they maintained their forward pace on the surface, their hearts were already consumed by suspicion and unease. Vigilance flickered in every gaze, as if unknown perils might leap out from the surroundings at any moment.
The path they walked appeared peaceful. Trees stood quietly on either side as a gentle breeze swept past, rustling the leaves. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the foliage, casting mottled patches of light and shadow like scattered golden fragments upon the ground. Yet behind this seemingly serene and tranquil scene lay hidden, unfathomable dangers—much like rapid, turbulent undercurrents lurking beneath the calm surface of a lake.
Zhang Yue walked at the head of the formation, gripping his longsword tightly. The blade flashed with a cold, piercing light, as if it could hardly wait to taste enemy blood. His eyes scanned the surroundings alertly, missing not the slightest rustle of grass or whispering wind. An inescapable premonition lingered in his heart, as though an invisible pair of eyes were watching their every move from the shadows—a gaze cold and malevolent.
Chapter 105