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KLANG! The wolf-drawn carriage soared into the air, slammed back down, and jolted violently. Its wheels bounced once, then spun faster, kicking up a cloud of dust across the hard-packed soil of the wasteland. Without slowing, it barreled forward.
Over a month had passed since that day when they’d pushed deep into the Outer Region.
But ever since Li Yuan gave the word to head back, even the direwolves pulling the carriage had perked up, dashing homeward with wild, unrestrained energy.
And as for gains? Not much, at least not in the material sense.
The outer rim of the foreign realm was vast, nearly boundless. And even just skimming its edge meant running into flame gods or ghosts at every turn. Yet, after all that, they’d only managed to find a single secret art stele.
Li Yuan had asked Ying Zhuoyao about this. She’d replied that when the Northern Dipper brought her here in the past, she was still too weak to see much, just a hazy glimpse of the stele’s existence. That was the only reason she’d mentioned it this time.
Still, the trip hadn’t been fruitless. Li Yuan had gained something, just not something he could carry.
He had pieced together a good deal of fragmented knowledge.
First and foremost, the balance of Yin and Yang at the edge of the Outer Region was practically nonexistent.
If you compared it to oxygen, then Central Plain’s atmosphere was breathable. But this place was like stepping into a vacuum, a space between planets. It made you feel as if the ground was falling away beneath your feet, as though you were about to drift into the star...
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