The Misty Gorge swallowed everything in a thick, ghostly haze.
Zhao Lingxi's boots struck the damp earth with precise rhythm. Each step was deliberate, her gaze sweeping across the twisting cliffs and ancient trees that leaned over the path like watchful sentinels. Bai Xuelan moved beside her, silent, her silver hair catching the faint glow of bioluminescent moss.
"The mist isn't natural," Bai Xuelan said softly, almost to herself. "It reacts to spiritual energy. It will mask your presence, but it can also mask hazards. Be careful where you step."
Zhao Lingxi tilted her head slightly. "And how do you know that?"
Bai Xuelan's ice-blue eyes met hers, sharp and unapologetic. "I've studied this gorge longer than most students have been alive. I know what lurks in it."
