"Uh…" The brain-eating worm was struck dumb for a long while, unable to get out a single word. It had been so smug just moments ago, so certain that everything lay within its grasp—and now this? Was this not the mother of all slaps to the face?

After a long silence, the brain-eating worm finally flew into a shameful rage: "That cunning human! Could he have sensed my traces from the very start, and spent all this time putting on an act just to lull me? Damnable bastard!"

Little did it know that Wei Zhao had no notion of any traces at all. He had simply shifted fully from the Primordial Spirit Body form into the Primordial Spirit form, all to make certain he could shake the creature off completely.

No matter how ingenious a trace might be, when all was said and done it had to adhere to something substantial to take effect. Once Wei Zhao converted into the Primordial Spirit form, that thread of its trace had nothing to cling to, and so it naturally lost all meaning.

It was a pure stroke of blind luck. Thanks to Wei Zhao's unbroken months of practice, he had gained a thorough command of switching between the Primordial Spirit Body form, the half-Primordial Spirit form, and the Primordial Spirit form. Otherwise, he would have suffered a grave loss before he even knew what hit him.

Only after carefully confirming several times over, until he was utterly certain the brain-eating worm had not given chase, did Wei Zhao finally revert to the Primordial Spirit Body form and return to the ground. It was not that he could not have stayed in the Primordial Spirit form indefinitely—that state, after all, could immunize him against the vast majority of harm—but should some particular emergency arise, it was likewise exceedingly fragile, utterly without defensive capacity, one might say.

In this ancient trial ground, where dangers of every kind rose one after another, the Primordial Spirit form was no different from a lone skiff adrift on a vast and raging sea: any single wave that came crashing down could spell utter ruin.

By comparison, the Primordial Spirit Body form was more easily injured, but at least it allowed him to bring forth an endless array of trump cards and techniques. More to the point, Wei Zhao was, in the end, more accustomed to this form that was nearly his true body. Otherwise, forever drifting through the skies as a Primordial Spirit, he would always feel something was off about it.

Once back on the ground, Wei Zhao's first order of business was to find Leng Leng and the others. Their strength was, after all, still far too weak. Facing threats at the Foundation Establishment level might be manageable enough, but should they encounter a spirit beast at the Golden Core level, the consequences were simply unthinkable. If too much time dragged on, Wei Zhao truly could not set his mind at ease.

Yet finding Leng Leng and the rest at this juncture was no easy matter. The Ultra Butterfly Microstep had carried him fleeing for an entire night; even if their directions were not exactly opposite, the distance between them was by no means trifling—at the very least several hundred li. And to search for someone across such an expanse in this vast, boundless ancient trial ground—how could that be anything but daunting?

Had this been a wide-open plain with nothing to obstruct the view, it would have been somewhat better. At worst, he could assume the Primordial Spirit form and drift about in the high skies; tracking down Leng Leng and the others would not have been so difficult. But here, primeval forest stretched in every direction. Even drifting into the air, he could not make out the ground beneath his own feet, let alone gaze into the distance. And this place was much like the trial grounds of old: spiritual perception could not be extended too far.

The only method left to Wei Zhao now was to deduce the route Leng Leng and the others were taking, then race to get ahead of them at top speed while maintaining the widest possible range of spiritual perception so as not to miss anything. Only thus was there a slim chance of reuniting with them in short order.

No sooner thought than done. Wei Zhao's speed was extraordinary; even when spirit beasts barred his path along the way, he suffered not the slightest delay. After all, even the brain-eating worm could not keep pace with him—to say nothing of these ordinary spirit beasts.

Oh, they were eager enough to block his way, but alas, Wei Zhao paid them no mind whatsoever, charging straight past them. One and all could only gaze after him in helpless futility. What was to be done about it?

An hour later, however, Wei Zhao abruptly halted. It was not that his true qi or stamina had faltered—rather, the tracks of humans had appeared within the range of his spiritual perception.

This location was unlikely to be where Leng Leng and the others were. Still, Wei Zhao decided to investigate the situation. He did not mind lending a hand to disciples of the Ancient Alliance in passing—who knew, he might even run into a familiar face or two.

"Hm?" Wei Zhao knitted his brows slightly. This spot lay nowhere near any of the main roads; it was deep within the dense forest. Faintly, he could make out on the ground a string of footprints left by human cultivators. Yet that trail of footprints came to an abrupt halt upon a patch of open ground.

Wei Zhao surveyed his surroundings. At first glance, all seemed utterly ordinary—nothing particularly noteworthy, no aura of danger whatsoever, not even the tracks of spirit beast activity so very common elsewhere. The environment, rather, carried a fresh and pleasant air, a veritable hidden paradise cut off from the world.

More to the point, there was not a single human cultivator within the range of Wei Zhao's spiritual perception. In other words, someone had walked to this place and then vanished into thin air.

By all reason, unless this person could fly, then no matter how formidable his strength, he must have left some trace behind—even if he had climbed a tree, the same would hold. What lay before his eyes was thus rather inexplicable. Surely he could not claim this person, like Wei Zhao himself, could transform into a Primordial Spirit form?

For the moment, Wei Zhao could make no sense of it, but one thing was certain: there must be something wrong with this environment. It was merely that he could not tell where the problem lay.

He observed a while longer, yet still discovered no anomaly or flaw. Wei Zhao decided to waste no more time. He had stopped only on a whim, to see whether he might encounter a familiar face. As things stood, reuniting with Leng Leng and the others was his pressing priority; lingering here was utterly pointless.

Yet in the very instant he prepared to set off, a faint stirring suddenly came from behind him. Wei Zhao did not turn his head, but his spiritual perception had already told him what had happened: it was the sound of a flower blooming.

Not three paces behind him, at a height of half a man, a vermilion bud quietly unfurled—vivid, beautiful, and carrying a delicate fragrance that refreshed the heart and steeped the senses.

Danger! In that first instant, Wei Zhao sensed the inexplicable crisis that had newly suffused the environment. Clearly, the danger came from this single lovely blossom that seemed so utterly harmless.

Sure enough, in the space of a breath the flower suddenly gaped wide, and within its petals grew row upon row of hideous serrated teeth. The entire blossom had transformed into a monstrous maw ravening for prey, swift as lightning in its onslaught, and was about to swallow Wei Zhao whole.

Only at this moment did Wei Zhao finally understand why the footprints had come to so abrupt and inexplicable an end. But his body reacted far faster than his mind: before the man-eating flower could lunge with gaping jaws, he had already evaded it by two body-lengths with the Ultra-Limit Butterfly Microstep. (To be continued.)