The earth-shaking rumble came without warning. Ye Fan felt the chill at the back of his neck first—the cold sweat that had been clinging to the stone wall suddenly shook loose, followed by falling gravel from the cave ceiling that struck the bandages Su Qingxue had just tied, bursting into a few specks of blood.
He instinctively pulled the others behind him, but Lin Zhaoyue caught his wrist with a reverse grip, her blood-stained sword already crossing between them, its tip pointing toward the crack. "Magma smell." Chǔ Hóngzhuāng suddenly wrinkled her nose. This girl from Southern Xinjiang had a sensitivity to scents rivaling venomous Gu insects, and before her words even faded, they all smelled the pungent odor of sulfur pouring in on the wind, mixed with a stench like rotting flesh.
Qín Wǎnshuāng’s fingertips moved slightly at her waist where she kept her privately crafted gunpowder pouches, but her gaze swept first to Ye Fan: "Retreat?"
Chapter 298