He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Chapter 892, Team 4

As Long Shishen swept past the human defenses, he chuckled softly. The laugh was mocking, yet as light as the wind, and went unnoticed by anyone.

At this moment, the ebony boat was completely silent. Long Tian and Long Jiao stood side by side in the center of the cabin, able to clearly hear each other's breathing and the old fox demon's soft cough behind them. They didn't know what was happening outside, nor where Long Shishen was taking them, but neither of them spoke. Long Shishen's strength was too formidable, and his mind was unfathomable; at this moment, the safest choice was to remain calm and obedient.

The ship swayed gently with the movement of the Dragon Godslayer, as softly as a cradle. A faint sound of wind drifted from outside, mixed with the indistinct conversations of human cultivators, growing fainter and fainter until it disappeared completely. Long Tian gazed at the shimmering light that danced on the cabin walls, a warm and peaceful glow that suddenly calmed his heart—no matter what lay ahead, at least they had finally escaped this fog of despair and taken their first step towards unknown hope.

In the makeshift camp on the outskirts of the Misty Forest, the campfire was dying down, the last embers flickering in the embers, leaving only a dark red glow emanating a faint warmth. The human sentries, wrapped tightly in their rough, cold-weather animal hides, buried half their faces in their collars, dozing in the makeshift watchtower. Orders from above told them to merely monitor the forest from a distance, not to venture deep inside, but nearly half a month had passed, and the forest was so quiet that even the chirping of birds and insects had vanished. Who had the mind to keep their eyes glued to that dark treeline?

"Tell me, what's going on?" A young sentry rubbed his frozen ears and muttered to his companion who was dozing off with his spear beside him. "The monsters were charging out like madmen a while ago, their roars could be heard three miles away. Why are they suddenly so quiet? Are they afraid of the 'Spirit Locking Array' we set up?"

His companion let out a long yawn, breathed warm air into his hands, which were red from the cold, and the white mist instantly dissipated in the cold air: "Who knows? If the higher-ups tell us to keep an eye on things, then we keep an eye on things. Anyway, we get paid every month. Being cold and tired is better than losing our lives. Besides, isn't it better if nothing happens? It's better than fighting and killing every day and living in fear."

As the two were chatting casually, a series of steady footsteps echoed through the camp. The old man, dressed in a heavy black robe with dark gold cloud patterns embroidered on the collar and cuffs, walked over unhurriedly. Behind him, Wang Ran carried a yellowed animal hide map, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the edge, his expression more solemn than usual.

"How many days has it been?" The old man didn't look at the sentry on the watchtower, his gaze fixed on the direction of the Misty Forest, a hint of anxiety in his voice. The morning mist was spreading out from the forest, like a huge white ribbon, slowly engulfing the vegetation at the edge of the camp, even blurring the red glow of the charcoal piles.

Wang Ran quickly bowed and replied, "Reporting to you, sir, it has been thirteen days." He carefully unfolded the animal skin map, pointing to the red dotted area marked with cinnabar, "According to reports from our spies among the demons, starting from the seventh day, the demons on the outskirts began to retreat deeper into the forest. At first, there were only a few wolf demons and fox demons, but later even the leopard demon squads responsible for patrolling disappeared. Now, not to mention high-level demon beasts, even the lowest-level wolf demons that only gnaw on carrion have vanished."

He paused, his face full of confusion: "A few days ago, I tried to send a communication talisman into the forest, but the talisman stopped working as soon as it crossed the treeline. It was as if something forcibly blocked its spiritual power, leaving not even a speck of ash. What exactly happened is really baffling."

The old man's brows furrowed even more deeply, like two stacked reefs. Thirteen days—in the ever-changing demon realm—was enough time for countless upheavals to occur. Deep within the Misty Forest lay the lair of the dragons. For years, the humans and demons had managed to coexist peacefully, thanks to the dragons' role as a mediator—the dragons suppressed the restless demons and restrained the greed of the humans. Now, the demons' mass retreat was no accident; either internal strife had erupted within the dragon clan, or a greater crisis was brewing in the shadows.

“Something’s not right,” the old man said in a low voice, tapping the location marked “Dragon Valley” on the map with his fingertip, making the paper crack slightly. “This is too abnormal. It’s as calm as a stagnant pool, but there might be a whirlpool hidden underneath.”

He looked up at Wang Ran, his gaze suddenly sharpening like a drawn sword: "Now organize the fourth team for me. Prepare enough dry rations for seven days, as well as 'Illusion-Dispelling Talismans' and 'Spirit-Gathering Array Plates.' We'll set off in half an hour. I want to see for myself what the Dragon Clan is really like now."

Wang Ran was startled—the fourth team was the last mobile team in the camp. Although its overall strength was not as elite as the first two teams, its members were all top talents drawn from various families, each possessing a hidden skill. They were either skilled hound trainers adept at tracking or sorcerers capable of drawing high-level talismans. However… the restrictions deep within the Misty Forest could even devour communication talismans. Rushing in rashly would likely be extremely dangerous, as the losses suffered by the first two teams were still fresh in his mind.

But he dared not question the old man's decision and could only bow and reply, "Yes, I will do it right away."

Half an hour later, the fourth team of twenty men had assembled at the camp entrance. They wore uniform black armor with simple defensive runes engraved on the plates, carried longswords or staffs inlaid with spirit stones on their backs, and had bulging storage bags filled with talismans and healing pills hanging from their waists. Each of them had a blank expression, but their hands, gripping their weapons tightly and with knuckles turning white, betrayed their underlying tension.

"You all know the rules, right?" Wang Ran stood at the front of the group, his voice particularly clear in the morning mist. "Once you enter the forest, maintain a triangular formation. No one is allowed to leave the group to explore without permission. If you encounter danger, fire a red signal flare first. Remember, the safety of the adults comes first. Even if it means abandoning the mission, you must protect the adults during the retreat."

The team members responded in unison, their voices carrying a deliberate air of calm. They were all aware of the dangers of this journey, but the reward offered by the old man was simply too tempting—not only would they receive ten high-grade spirit stones that could directly absorb spiritual energy, but they would also receive a major commendation in the family's merit book, which would be enough to elevate their status within the clan and even earn them the opportunity to enter the "Scripture Pavilion" for cultivation.

The group quickly entered the Misty Forest. Just past the outer perimeter's protective barrier, the air suddenly turned chilly. Sunlight was blocked by the dense foliage, only a few dappled spots of light filtering through the layers of leaves, falling on the thick carpet of fallen leaves like scattered gold dust. Strangely, the usual traces of monsters had vanished without a trace—no half-eaten animal bones, no shed fur, not even a messy sign of a struggle on the ground. Only the soft rustling of fallen leaves underfoot stood out starkly in the silent forest.