The river was left behind.
Ahead, the land rose sharply.
The fleet entered the Windscar Mountains.
The change was immediate.
Gone were the wide waters and open skies. In their place stood an endless expanse of jagged peaks, stretching layer upon layer into the distance. The mountains did not rise gently. They surged upward like broken blades, their edges sharp, uneven, and unforgiving.
Between them lay deep valleys, many swallowed by thick drifting mist. From above, those valleys appeared calm and silent.
But the air told a different story.
Powerful winds surged through the mountain corridors, rushing between peaks with sudden force. Some currents twisted unpredictably, forming invisible streams that shifted direction without warning.
The fleet slowed.
The Azure Cloud Ark led from the front, its formation arrays glowing faintly as they adjusted to the unstable environment. Behind it, the rest of the ships tightened their positions, maintaining strict formation.
This was no longer open river travel.
Every movement had to be controlled.
Ships began adjusting altitude in small, frequent shifts, rising slightly to avoid sudden updrafts, then descending again to remain within stable layers of air.
On the forward deck, Elder Zhang Renshan stood with his arms behind his back, his gaze sweeping across the terrain ahead.
"Reduce speed."
His voice carried clearly across the formation.
"Maintain distance between vessels. Watch the wind flow between the peaks."
Orders were quickly relayed through the fleet.
The spacing between ships widened slightly.
Formation patterns shifted.
The entire fleet moved as one, adapting to the mountain environment.
Below, a sudden surge of wind tore through a narrow valley, scattering loose mist into the air. The current twisted upward sharply before dissipating.
It was only one of many.
The Windscar Mountains were known for their unstable environment.
Wind turbulence pockets could appear without warning.
Spiritual pressure zones existed in certain regions, where the density of energy in the air fluctuated unnaturally.
High-altitude currents were even more dangerous, capable of disrupting flight formations entirely.
And beneath it all, hidden among valleys and ridges, lay the territories of demon beasts.
Even without seeing them, their presence could be felt.
The deeper the fleet moved into the mountains, the more oppressive the atmosphere became.
The sky seemed narrower here.
The land felt heavier.
The vast openness of the river had been replaced by something far more confined… and far more dangerous.
The fleet continued forward steadily.
This was only the beginning.
Ahead lay a full month of travel through the Windscar Mountains.
The first week within the Windscar Mountains passed with steady progress.
The fleet followed the mapped route provided earlier, moving through corridors that had been tested and confirmed relatively safe. The path did not remove danger—but it avoided the worst of it.
The mountains remained vast and oppressive.
Peaks rose endlessly in every direction, their shadows stretching across deep valleys below. Mist drifted between ridges, sometimes parting to reveal steep slopes or jagged rock faces scarred by time and wind.
But within this landscape, life was everywhere.
Demon beasts.
They began to appear more frequently as the fleet advanced deeper.
Most were not strong enough to pose a threat to such a large formation, but their presence was unmistakable.
High along the cliffs, Stoneback Mountain Lizards could be seen basking against the rock.
Their bodies were massive, easily the size of small houses, with thick, layered scales resembling natural stone. Some of their backs had hardened to the point where moss and dust had settled over them, making them almost indistinguishable from the cliffs themselves.
Their cultivation ranged from mid to late Foundation Establishment.
They did not move as the fleet passed overhead.
Only their eyes shifted slightly, tracking the movement in the sky.
In the lower valleys, packs of Ironclaw Ridge Wolves roamed through the uneven terrain.
Their bodies were lean and powerful, covered in coarse dark fur that blended easily with the rocky landscape. Their claws, long and metallic in sheen, dug into stone as they moved across steep surfaces with unnatural ease.
Each pack was led by a stronger alpha, usually at late Foundation Establishment, while the rest ranged between early to mid Foundation Establishment.
As the fleet passed, the wolves paused.
Dozens of glowing eyes lifted toward the sky.
But none followed.
None gave chase.
Between the peaks, swift shadows occasionally crossed the air.
These were Windtail Sky Foxes.
Smaller than the other beasts, their bodies were sleek and agile, with long tails that split into feather-like strands at the end. These tails allowed them to glide through the wind currents with remarkable control.
They moved silently, darting between invisible streams of air.
Most were at early Foundation Establishment, though a few stronger ones reached mid Foundation Establishment.
They circled at a distance, observing the fleet with sharp, intelligent eyes.
But they kept their distance.
At one point, a cluster of narrow rock spires revealed another presence.
Dozens of Cliffscale Serpents coiled around the jagged formations.
Their bodies were long and segmented, covered in overlapping scales that reflected faint metallic hues. They blended perfectly with the stone, only their subtle movements revealing their presence.
Their cultivation varied between early and mid Foundation Establishment, with a few nearing late stage.
As the fleet moved overhead, the serpents remained still.
Not one struck.
Even the air itself seemed alive.
Occasionally, faint distortions could be seen in certain wind streams—signs of lesser aerial beasts moving unseen within the currents.
But none approached.
Across the entire first week, the pattern remained the same.
The fleet moved.
The beasts watched.
And then they withdrew.
No attacks came.
No challenges were made.
The reason was simple.
The combined presence of the fleet—dozens of ships, multiple Golden Core cultivators, and the overwhelming aura of the Azure Cloud Ark—was enough to deter any ordinary demon beast.
Instinct ruled them.
They recognized danger.
They chose not to provoke it.
By the end of the first week, the fleet had passed through the safest outer zones of the Windscar Mountains.
Deeper regions lay ahead.
And with them, stronger presences.
By the second week, the fleet had moved beyond the outer regions.
The mountains grew quieter.
Not calmer—but more restrained.
The smaller demon beasts that had once appeared frequently were now rarely seen.
In their place, a heavier pressure lingered in the air.
At one point, as the fleet passed over a wide, shadowed valley, that pressure suddenly deepened.
Several cultivators on the outer ships stiffened.
A presence.
A true one.
Not long after, it was seen.
Far below, near the base of a broken cliff, an enormous figure lay partially coiled against the rock.
A horned mountain beast.
Its body was massive, far larger than any Foundation Establishment creature they had encountered before. Thick, dark hide covered its form, layered with natural ridges that resembled armored plating. Two curved horns extended from its head, rough and scarred, giving it a brutal, ancient appearance.
Its cultivation was unmistakable.
Golden Core.
The surrounding air felt heavier simply from its presence.
The valley around it was unnaturally still.
No smaller beasts moved nearby.
No sound carried from below.
For a moment, the fleet continued forward in silence.
Then—
The beast opened its eyes.
Two deep, steady pupils locked onto the sky.
It did not roar.
It did not rise.
It simply watched.
Its gaze moved slowly across the fleet, not in confusion, but in clear awareness.
It lingered briefly on the Azure Cloud Ark, then shifted across the formation behind it.
It was observing.
Measuring.
Understanding.
Some of the disciples felt a chill run down their spine.
This was not the dull instinct of lesser beasts.
There was clarity in that gaze.
Recognition.
The beast exhaled slowly.
A low breath that stirred dust along the cliff.
Then, without another movement, it closed its eyes again.
As if the matter no longer concerned it.
The fleet passed overhead without interruption.
No attack came.
No challenge was made.
The reason was clear.
The fleet was too large.
Too organized.
Too strong.
Even a Golden Core demon beast would not recklessly provoke such a force without reason.
In the mountains, strength dictated action.
And this creature had already made its judgment.
It would not win.
So it did nothing.
Not long after leaving the valley behind, the environment began to shift again.
The wind changed.
At first, it was subtle.
A slight increase in pressure.
A faint instability in the air.
Then the signs became clearer.
Ahead, the space between the mountain peaks seemed distorted.
Long streams of wind twisted through the air, visible only by the way mist and dust were pulled into spiraling patterns.
This was a storm current zone.
The fleet slowed immediately.
The Azure Cloud Ark's formation arrays brightened, layers of light forming across its surface as stabilizing forces spread outward.
Behind it, the rest of the ships adjusted accordingly.
The closer they drew, the clearer the danger became.
Massive currents of wind rotated between the peaks, forming spiraling corridors that shifted unpredictably. Some currents rose sharply upward before collapsing. Others twisted sideways, crossing paths with neighboring flows.
There was no fixed direction.
No stable pattern.
Only constant motion.
As the fleet entered the outer edge of the zone, the first signs of instability appeared.
Several ships trembled slightly.
Their hulls creaked under the shifting pressure.
Loose objects rattled.
Even the larger vessels felt the pull of the currents trying to drag them off course.
"Adjust altitude."
The command spread quickly through the formation.
Ships began to rise and fall in controlled intervals, aligning themselves with the safer layers of air identified in the route map.
Spacing between vessels increased.
Formation lines stretched slightly to reduce interference.
The Azure Cloud Ark led the path, its formation acting as an anchor point.
Whenever a sudden current surged too close, its stabilizing field absorbed part of the disturbance, allowing the ships behind it to adjust.
Despite this, the passage was tense.
One wrong movement—
One miscalculation—
And a ship could be pulled into a stronger current.
But the fleet did not panic.
Every movement was controlled.
Every adjustment deliberate.
They did not fight the storm.
They moved with it.
Following the safest path through the chaos.
After a prolonged stretch, the currents gradually weakened.
The spiraling winds thinned.
The pressure in the air eased.
One by one, the ships stabilized.
The fleet emerged from the storm corridor without loss.
But the tension lingered.
This was only the second week.
And the mountains were only beginning to show their true nature.
End of Chapter 80