Chapter Eighty-Five: Where Are Those I Hold Dear Now

After a brief rest, the Black Armored Army resumed their march. Su Fan chose not to fly. Though flight offered speed, it was fraught with danger; agility was limited in the air, and the Black Armored Army excelled at coordinated combat. If scattered, their fighting strength would be greatly diminished.

They drew closer to the dense forest. Su Fan ordered the troops to accelerate, determined to leave the woods before nightfall. The forest was not large, and at their current pace, they could certainly exit before dark. Still, Su Fan remained uneasy, knowing that unforeseen events could occur at any moment.

Wuming had lost nearly a hundred elite fighters; he would not let this pass easily. The forest was ideal for ambushes. Perhaps troops were already lying in wait, poised to annihilate Su Fan and his Black Armored Army as soon as they entered.

Su Fan recognized this possibility, yet could do nothing about it. Orders from the sect had already been issued; if he delayed advancing toward Luo City, he would inevitably give the Elder in Red an opportunity to exploit his hesitation.

That was of little consequence. More importantly, if Su Fan reached Luo City late, it would surely impact Xiao Lin. Luo City would promptly dispatch troops to resist them.

Xiao Lin’s forces were few, and the imperial city remained shrouded in mystery. Su Fan vaguely suspected that there might be a power in the imperial city even greater than Tianyuan Sect.

Overhead, a bird soared straight into the sky, then swooped down. Su Fan’s heart darkened, but he strode into the forest, the soldiers behind him following without hesitation.

The recent battle had instilled deep trust in Su Fan. These men were brutish, fierce, and revered strength above all. Su Fan’s courage and prowess commanded their respect; his wisdom and daring were beyond reproach. With Su Fan’s masculine presence, his status among the ten thousand Black Armored soldiers began to surpass even that of Hong Lan.

Su Fan had no time to dwell on this. The pressure from Wuming weighed on him, leaving him breathless. Until he saw Wuming, he could not rest easy.

Wuming was truly terrifying, especially his cunning and strategy. Only by facing him directly could Su Fan feel a semblance of security; otherwise, he could not predict what might happen next.

Another worry gnawed at Su Fan. The Elder in Purple had mentioned that Wuming had recruited many rogue cultivators—those desperate souls without powerful sects behind them, yet renowned and certainly not benign.

As Su Fan stepped into the dense forest, a wave of humid heat assaulted him, filling him with irritation. Poisonous insects were everywhere, swamps and muddy pits abounded, and most menacing of all were the miasmas and toxic smoke.

Fortunately, these were ordinary poisons and posed no threat to the Black Armored Army.

The swamps and pits were clearly marked, not dangerous enough to cause harm or death. Still, Su Fan remained vigilant, extending his spiritual senses to the furthest reach for maximum safety.

Suddenly, Su Fan halted. Ahead, a patch of black, thick smoke rose, strangely dark, with something trembling within it.

His spiritual sense could not penetrate the smoke. After all, he had not deliberately cultivated it, so his ability was still at the Foundation Establishment level; it was unsurprising that he could not probe further.

The smoke drifted aimlessly. Su Fan focused intently, unwilling to miss any detail. Gradually, the smoke thinned, revealing itself to be merely dense poisonous haze, which the Black Armored Army could completely ignore.

Su Fan breathed a sigh of relief and was about to move forward, when he froze.

It was not smoke at all, but a curtain woven from countless black insects.

Now, the black curtain had encircled them from all sides, threatening to devour Su Fan and the soldiers bit by bit.

Su Fan was alarmed and shouted, "All units, prepare for combat!"

At his command, the Black Armored Army raised their defenses in unison; a protective light shield enveloped the entire force, its formidable strength manifesting instantly.

Su Fan was momentarily stunned. This defensive barrier was cast by ten thousand men at once—even he was unsure if he could break through it.

His mind eased slightly, allowing him to focus on tracking the black insects.

He watched as the black insects swarmed into view, blotting out the sky and earth, hurling themselves at the light shield. Upon contact, they died instantly, yet their numbers were endless.

Sticky, crimson blood quickly stained the shield, dimming its brilliance.

Su Fan was aghast—not at the ferocity of the insects, but at their unity. Though ordinary, they attacked the shield without regard for their own lives.

He did not doubt that without the shield, the swarm would annihilate the Black Armored Army; even Su Fan himself could not guarantee escape.

Such coordination meant someone was controlling them. But who? Su Fan had no answers.

The black insects died in droves, blood accumulating on the shield, while the cultivators with higher martial prowess nearby turned pale, clearly straining under the pressure.

The shield continued to shrink. Those soldiers who inadvertently slipped outside its protection were reduced to skeletons in the blink of an eye.

Most of the troops were shocked, but when their eyes fell on Su Fan, their fear diminished.

The battle at Gourd Valley had made Su Fan a beacon of hope—a savior in desperation.

Now, facing despair once more, Su Fan was lost. How could he save them? The insects seemed endless; one wave fell, another rose.

The Black Armored Army had their own sense of honor. To die in such humiliation was intolerable. Thus, those who found themselves outside the shield, or about to be, chose self-destruction to end their final moments.

The shield kept shrinking; explosions sounded as soldiers self-destructed. Su Fan’s heart sank. In a flash, he leapt from the shield, resolved to carve a path of blood—if he was their hope, he would not disappoint them.

No sooner had Su Fan stepped out than the black insects surrounded him. Seeing this, several Black Armored soldiers followed without hesitation.

The swarm surged, blotting out the heavens. Purple mist and black curtain mingled in a deadly dance.

The insects fell in droves, but Su Fan struggled. Though they were ordinary poisonous insects, he could kill countless with a wave of his hand, but as soon as one wave was destroyed, another appeared. There was no end, no hope.

Gradually, the purple mist faded. Su Fan grew pale; his Violet Moon Blade lost its luster, and he staggered, nearly collapsing.

At that critical moment, a new wave of black insects attacked, larger than before, as if they sensed Su Fan’s exhaustion.

Su Fan trembled, blood trickling from his right shoulder, his Violet Moon Blade dimming further.

His eyes fluttered closed. Was he truly resigned to this fate? Fan Ruoyu was still missing, so many mysteries unsolved, enemies rampant—why should he die? Yet was it destiny?

Deep in the forest, a flash of black light streaked forth, instantly reaching Su Fan’s side. In one swift motion, it swept the collapsing Su Fan back into the protective shield.