Lin Feng was no longer the ignorant novice he once was. While his practical experience might still be limited, he had devoured countless texts and scrolls, assimilating a vast amount of common knowledge. The moment he saw that transparent wall blocking the exit, he instantly recognized it: a barrier formation!
Such formations were far from rare in the cultivation world. Virtually every established sect used them to seal their mountain gates, controlling access. Powerful solitary cultivators often employed similar sealing barriers to protect their secluded abodes. Clearly, that was what they faced now.
But why hadn't this barrier been active when they entered? Why activate now? Was it a one-way barrier, permitting entry but denying exit? Then how had that monstrous figure escaped? Had it simply smashed its way through? If that were the case, the barrier should be shattered…
Lin Feng's expression darkened as he pondered. Another possibility surfaced: perhaps this barrier activated automatically on a timer. It had been dormant when they entered, and now, time was up. He had seen the barrier manifest gradually – ripples forming after the enemy fled. Maybe its activation coincided with the escape, or perhaps the enemy's violent passage had triggered it.
Regardless of the cause, the grim reality remained: the exit was sealed. He and Chang Gong Xiaojing were trapped within the grand hall!
The fragile relief he'd felt moments ago evaporated, replaced by renewed dread. He stared intently at the sealed entrance, then spoke to Chang Gong Xiaojing beside him. "Xiaojing, step back. I'm going to try and break this barrier."
Once she retreated to a safe distance, Lin Feng himself moved back about ten meters. Drawing on his core, he channeled his true energy and unleashed the Crimson Soul Flying Sword once more.
CLANG!
The sword struck the invisible barrier at the exit with a resounding metallic clang, shuddering violently before being flung back. The barrier itself remained utterly undisturbed, not even a ripple marring its unseen surface.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!...
Frustration mounting, Lin Feng drove the flying sword in a frenzy of attacks, targeting different spots around the entrance. Each strike met the same immovable resistance. He even tried slashing the solid stone walls flanking the entrance – the result was identical, the barrier's influence extending seamlessly.
In a final, desperate gamble, he expended a precious Grade 3 Peak-Golden Sword Talisman. The resulting blast of concentrated sword energy managed only to stir faint, quickly fading ripples across the barrier's surface. Its staggering resilience was beyond his current power to overcome.
Defeated and drained, Lin Feng slumped against a nearby pillar. His true energy reserves were critically low. He sat down heavily, pulling irritably at his hair as he tried to recover his strength and grapple with their predicament.
…
Meanwhile, high above the mist-shrouded valley…
The zombie-like cultivator who had fled the grand hall shot upwards like a bolt of fear-driven lightning. He plunged recklessly into the dense, churning black fog blanketing the sky. Like a blade cleaving smoke, he tore through the oppressive miasma, ascending thousands of meters until he landed atop the peak of the northern mountain.
From this vantage point, the world below was an unbroken sea of inky black fog, obscuring everything. Thunder rumbled continuously through the surrounding storm clouds; fierce astral winds howled across the exposed peak – an environment utterly hostile to ordinary cultivators.
Yet, the figure stood unaffected. He made no effort to shield himself with energy as the gale-force winds battered his body. They struck him with the force of a tempest, yet rebounded as if hitting impervious metal, leaving him unharmed.
He paid the environment no heed. His face remained a rigid mask, but his eyes churned with residual terror and panic. Only after landing on the peak, distanced from the valley below, did a semblance of calm begin to settle. And with that calm came a sudden, jarring realization. His eyes snapped wide open, filled with profound shock and disbelief.
"WRONG!! IT WASN'T HIM!!!"
The words burst from his lips, raw and guttural. He whirled around, his gaze burning with a mixture of fury and renewed terror as he stared down at the fog-choked valley. His entire frame seemed to tremble faintly.
"Not him… not him!" he muttered, the words laced with incredulity, a flicker of confusion, and a rapidly rising tide of murderous rage.
He finally registered it: the cultivator he'd faced… was merely at the Foundation Building stage! A mere ant compared to the being he'd feared he'd encountered. Yet, the sight of that face had triggered such primal, overwhelming dread that all reason fled. He'd reacted on pure, terrified instinct, fleeing without a second thought – even forgetting the crucial treasure he sought!
"Damn it… DAMN IT!!" A spasm of pure fury twisted his corpse-like features, contorting them grotesquely. Humiliation warred with killing intent. He took an instinctive step forward, ready to plunge back down and rectify his mistake with extreme prejudice.
But as his foot lifted, his entire body abruptly locked up. His movement became unnaturally rigid and jerky. For a split second, a blurred, ghostly silhouette seemed to flicker violently around him, as if struggling to break free from within his own flesh.
The anomaly vanished as quickly as it appeared. Yet, the terror that flooded the zombie-cultivator's eyes this time was profound and deeply personal. He cast one last look of seething resentment and bitter unwillingness down at the black fog sea. Then, without another moment's hesitation, he transformed into a streak of light and shot northward across the sky, vanishing beyond the horizon in the blink of an eye.
…
Back inside the sealed grand hall…
Lin Feng's depleted true energy reserves gradually replenished. He sat slumped against the pillar, his face grim as he mentally cataloged their options. Escape seemed impossible, fueling a growing sense of helpless frustration.
His thoughts inevitably drifted back to the bizarre encounter with their attacker. The figure's final, panicked flight, and that shrieked accusation, echoed in his mind.
"'It's you'? What did he mean?" Lin Feng frowned deeply, wrestling with the puzzle. "He couldn't possibly know me… which means… he mistook me for someone else. Who did he think I was?"
The sheer intensity of the reaction – a being of such monstrous power fleeing in abject terror merely upon seeing his face – was staggering. Just how terrifying must the person Lin Feng resembled actually be?
The attacker recognized Lin Feng's face as belonging to someone else. Someone Lin Feng must resemble closely. Who could Lin Feng possibly look like? Or rather… whose features did Lin Feng share?
Following this line of thought, a spark of incredulous realization ignited in Lin Feng's eyes, swiftly blooming into shock and disbelief. A name whispered through his mind: "Father?!"
It was pure speculation, a wild leap. Yet, once the thought took root, Lin Feng couldn't suppress a surge of fierce, desperate hope. The possibility felt terrifyingly plausible – did that terrifying entity recognize his missing father?!
Lin Feng ached for this guess to be true. Yet, with the figure gone, there was no way to confirm it. A wave of bitter frustration washed over him – the attacker's flight had potentially robbed him of a vital clue to his father's whereabouts. Of course, he immediately chastised himself; had the creature stayed, both he and Chang Gong Xiaojing would be dead now. Survival was paramount.
"Lin Feng… are you alright?"
Chang Gong Xiaojing's soft voice broke through his turbulent thoughts. She had been waiting patiently nearby, watching his expression shift rapidly through agitation, shock, excitement, and deep frustration.
Lin Feng blinked, pulled back to the present. He looked up to meet her concerned gaze. He managed a small, strained shake of his head. "I'm… alright. Just thinking about something… strange."
As he spoke, an idea suddenly struck him. His eyes lit up with renewed purpose. He pushed himself to his feet.
"Xiaojing," he said, a new urgency in his voice, "Let's go back to that inner chamber! We need to look again!"