Deep in Wild Wolf Valley, the chaotic claw prints in the snow extended into the withered forest.
Wang Daoxuan crouched and picked up a small pinch of dark red powder he found, bringing it close to his nose and wrinkling his brow: "Vermillion used for blood rituals mixed with bone powder, also laced with rooster crest blood—it's a Shaman's formula for breaking filth, but this smell is malicious."
Afterward, the Turtle Shell Compass in his palm buzzed and trembled, the pointer firmly fixed on the northeast depths of the ravine.
"Pursue!" Li Yan immediately ordered.
Twelve men with thirty elite cavalry rushed along the ravine.
The deeper they went, the more twisted the withered trees became, like ghostly claws.
The bark retained carved and twisted runes, some of which seeped dark red.
Wu Ba touched one of them with his Meteor Iron Fist Gloves, and the bark oozed sticky black blood.
