Half a day later, in a dry and flat cave, Alaric Ye sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, his face full of anticipation.

Now, Alaric had distanced himself from the battle zone. In two more days of flying, he would reach the border area between the central and outer regions of the Hundred Thousand Mountains. Throughout the journey, Alaric, Little White, and Little Strong were fully alert and cautious, hardly interacting with any demonic beasts until they reached this cave.

A flash of spiritual light appeared in Alaric's hand, revealing a handleless curved blade shining with a faint blood-colored glow. The blade was about half a person's length, curved, with a sharp edge that gleamed coldly. Despite having clashed with the three flying swords of Little Strong and Alaric, it bore no marks or scratches.

Alaric gently caressed the smooth blade, a hint of excitement on his face.