Sky Star

Chapter 23: Nocturnal Exploration

Yun Yi moved like a shadowy tempest, his figure flickering through the dense forest with ghostly speed as he raced towards the valley where the mysterious light had appeared. The night stretched like an impenetrable black veil, engulfing the world in its eerie embrace. Only a few faint stars, like struggling fireflies, pierced through the thick clouds, casting a dim glow to barely illuminate his path. The howling wind screamed past his ears, akin to the wailing of vengeful spirits, adding to the night’s sinister atmosphere, as if the darkness itself sought to devour him whole.

Every fibre of his being was taut like a drawn bowstring, his senses sharpened to detect any lurking dangers. The brittle twigs and fallen leaves beneath his feet emitted soft crunches, reminiscent of the grinding teeth of unseen creatures thirsting for blood—an unsettling sound that sent chills down the spine. Yun Yi’s gaze, sharp as an eagle’s in the night, swept across his surroundings with unrelenting vigilance, unwilling to overlook even the slightest anomaly, knowing that a single lapse in attention could spell his doom.

Before long, he arrived at the valley’s entrance. A thick mist shrouded the landscape like an ethereal veil, concealing whatever lay beyond, making the valley appear as an unwelcoming forbidden zone. Yun Yi halted, closed his eyes slightly, and concentrated, attempting to sense any lingering traces of the mysterious energy. In an instant, a peculiar sensation, as cold as icy threads, seeped into his consciousness. It was like the whisper of an ancient melody, plucking at his spiritual awareness. The aura carried an unfathomable antiquity, as though it had traversed eons, yet it also contained a destructive power so overwhelming that even the faintest touch sent shivers down his spine. It drifted through the air—at times as faint as a dying ember, at others as turbulent as crashing waves—relentlessly striking his perception. His heartbeat faltered momentarily, as if an invisible hand had seized his heart.

Moments later, he slowly opened his eyes, a determined glint flashing within them. Like a lone warrior steeled by conviction, he strode into the valley without hesitation.

Inside, an eerie silence reigned, akin to a land of the dead. Only the soft echoes of his footsteps resounded in the vast emptiness, like the solemn beat of a lonely drum. Though the oppressive force from the earlier radiance had dissipated, its lingering presence remained, compelling him to tread lightly, as if afraid of disturbing the valley’s slumbering mysteries. Yun Yi carefully followed the remnants of the battle between the squad and the beasts. The bloodstains on the ground had long since dried, resembling withered crimson blossoms—a silent testament to the ferocity of the previous skirmish, as if the fallen warriors’ spirits still whispered among the ruins.

Suddenly, a faint rustling emanated from a nearby thicket, akin to a small creature scurrying through the undergrowth. Instantly, Yun Yi pivoted, his right hand gripping his sword’s hilt in one swift motion. His gaze, cold as a winter star, locked onto the source of the sound. His spiritual energy surged silently, ready to explode like a slumbering volcano. However, after a brief moment, a startled hare darted from the bushes, vanishing into the night. His taut muscles relaxed slightly, his tightly drawn bowstring of nerves easing momentarily as he let out a slow breath.

Pressing onward, Yun Yi arrived at the heart of the explosion. A massive scorched mark marred the ground, as though seared by celestial fire. A faint burnt odour lingered in the air, acrid and unpleasant. He crouched, tracing his fingers lightly over the charred surface, infusing a tendril of spiritual energy in an attempt to decipher the residual energy fluctuations. Instantly, blurred images flashed through his mind—an immense pillar of light piercing the heavens from the earth’s depths. Within the column, cryptic runes flickered before vanishing in the blink of an eye, as elusive as a fleeting dream.

Frowning, Yun Yi fell into deep contemplation, his thoughts knotted with perplexity. What kind of power could have caused such a cataclysmic event? Could it be the emergence of an ancient divine artefact, or perhaps a concealed supreme cultivator orchestrating everything from the shadows? The unanswered questions coiled around his mind like a tangled web, forming an enigmatic puzzle with no clear solution.

As he wrestled with his thoughts, an eerie, bone-chilling gust swept through the valley, as if rising from the depths of the netherworld. A shiver involuntarily coursed through his spine. Then, a whisper—faint, ephemeral—brushed against his ears, floating like a ghostly murmur. Its words, barely discernible yet piercing, sent a chill to his core: “Leave… or suffer…”

Yun Yi sprang to his feet, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Yet, nothing stirred. Only the thickening mist loomed around him, creeping closer as if to swallow him whole.

A surge of unease crashed over him, like turbulent waves threatening to submerge him. But Yun Yi was not one to retreat in fear. Drawing a deep breath, he channelled his courage and bellowed, “Who dares lurk in the shadows? Show yourself and face me in battle!” His voice boomed like a tolling bell, reverberating through the valley. Even the mist seemed to tremble at his defiance. Yet, his only answer was the resounding silence—an abyssal stillness that swallowed his challenge whole.

Gritting his teeth, Yun Yi knew that there would be no further revelations tonight. Deciding to regroup, he turned swiftly and retraced his steps towards the campsite, his silhouette melding seamlessly into the darkness. The forest embraced him once more, a mere shadow flitting through the night. Left behind was Xiao Chen, standing at the valley’s edge, his heart weighed with unease as he gazed into the distance, watching Yun Yi disappear—like a lone vessel sailing into the unknown, uncertain when or if it would return…