With their lights reflecting off one another, each airship was able to determine its own position, and following along in formation posed no problem. Yet after cruising through the fog for over an hour, there was still no sign of breaking through to the other side.
Meanwhile, the surrounding mist grew increasingly thick. The beams of light cast out appeared ever fainter until they were barely discernible, and the noisy thrum of the propeller blades seemed to fade to a dull murmur. The surroundings seemed to sink into an eerie hush.
Even more troublesome, the field-based information shared among them was beginning to falter. Transmissions turned faint and intermittent, and even telegraph messages suffered the exact same interference.
The fog had appeared under bizarre circumstances to begin with. If conditions deteriorated further, trouble would be inevitable; such a massive airship fleet could very well fall out of formation, scatter, or even collide with one another.
Sensing that something was wrong, the navigators promptly compiled a report and transmitted it to the flagship.
Upon receiving the dispatch, Delegation Leader Xie immediately inquired, "How much longer until we reach the West Coast?"
The staff officer glanced at his watch. "According to current estimates, if we maintain our proper course, we should sight the Federation coastline in three hours at the latest—around seven in the morning, Linax time, roughly around sunrise."
Delegation Leader Xie asked again, "How is the esoteric ritual group's analysis coming along?"
The staff officer replied, "Their report shows that ever since we entered these Federation waters, all sorts of chaotic auras have been ubiquitous. Many biological experiments and excessive esoteric rituals must have been conducted in this vicinity. Since the airships are still underway, there simply hasn't been enough time to analyze much of anything."
Delegation Leader Xie considered this for a moment and said, "Starting right now, have the active conscious entity calculate and adjust our positions, broadcast the data to all members of the airship fleet, and order them to maintain their course."
The flagship carried an active conscious entity aboard. Though not designed for combat, it could provide substantial navigation assistance. The other airships were likewise equipped with inactive conscious entities, and contingency plans had been prepared in advance for various scenarios on this voyage.
To ensure safety on this return leg, even the Linax Federation's airships had synchronized their signal data.
Yet the staff officer reminded him, "Leader, guidance from the conscious entities is feasible, but once relative coordinates are lost, drift will inevitably accumulate over time. In ten or fifteen minutes at most, discrepancies could arise—and that's assuming the current state holds without any additional incidents."
Delegation Leader Xie remained composed. "It won't come to that," he said. "Don't forget, there are people in our mission who can resolve this."
Right while they were speaking, aboard one of the cruising airships, the captain suddenly spotted a colossal, indistinct silhouette looming ahead. It looked like a monster gaping its maw wide, waiting for them to fly straight in.
His face drained of color, and in a panic, he moved to wrench the control stick to evade.
Yet the moment he reached out, the biological correction assist hand of the inactive conscious entity gripped him firmly, pinning him in place and preventing him from turning the craft.
The entire flight control system had just been commandeered by the inactive conscious entity. Lacking higher authorization, he could no longer make manual inputs.
Thus, he could only watch in horror as he and the entire airship plunged into the monster's maw.
Yet the terrifying disaster he imagined never materialized.
In truth, it was nothing more than a mass of mist that inflicted no real damage upon the vessel; calling it an internally conjured hallucination would not have been far off the mark.
Had he turned just now, or had other airships taken similar actions, it would very likely have caused midair collisions between vessels.
However, as if because these illusion-like manifestations failed to disrupt the airship formation, numerous black silhouettes appeared in the fog. Resembling winged birds of some kind, they plummeted like torrential rain. Yet the instant they struck the airships and their biomaterial gasbags, plumes of smoke hissed outward, and the shadows seemed to dissolve into nothingness.
This was the esoteric ritual shielding deployed across the airships, interwoven with protective materials designed for use in the Confluence. Knowing they had to transit the cult-ridden, chaotic expanse of the West Coast, how could they not have made ample preparations?
Even so, the emergence of such things was not entirely without effect. The already tenuous communications between the airships were largely severed; only the powerful field aboard the flagship could barely sustain a connection.
On Chen Chuan's end, he had received the voice transmission sent by Delegation Leader Xie over the encrypted channel and already understood the general situation.
At this moment, he glanced at his second self and noticed that signs of blurring had appeared across it.
By reading the directional gradient of that blurring, combined with his own mental perception, he could roughly pinpoint the source of this dense fog. If something was behind this trouble, that was surely where it lay.
He stepped directly into his external implant, took up the Xuejun Saber, walked out onto the open deck, and directed his gaze deep into the fog.
Wisps of platinum light began to emanate from his body. Floating up from the platform, he shot forth as a streak of flowing light, cleaving open the thick mist in an instant as he flew toward the distance. A moment later, rumbling sonic booms echoed across the surroundings.
This sound was something not even the uncanny mist could muffle. Everyone throughout the airship fleet heard it, and beneath their feet, they could distinctly feel the hulls trembling from the reverberations.
*What was that? Did someone open fire?*
The three martial artists in the fleet were far more sensitive to it. They immediately recognized the sound of a martial artist flying through the air.
They realized at once that *he* had moved. Yet what lay behind that roar was simply staggering; such a direct display of power from a martial artist of the Longevity View could not help but leave them in awe.
As if in close pursuit, another sound rang out shortly after, though with far less momentum than the first.
Bian Zhijie reacted immediately. "That direction... it's Gui Zihan! Does that kid have so much energy he doesn't know what to do with it?"
He gritted his teeth. "Since he went, we ought to go too!"
Wang Tongshan grabbed him. "Brother Bian, calm down! Chief Chen isn't here, and Gui Zihan has left too. That leaves just the two of us. We can't go—hands are needed here."
Thinking it over, Bian Zhijie felt a surge of helplessness. He knew Wang Tongshan was right; the airships could not be left without martial artists to guard them. With two key figures already gone, the remaining two could not leave under any circumstances.
In Serranocha State, at the First People settlement near the coast, the heart of the tribal grounds had fallen into dead silence. The dense fog had not ceased after devouring the lives of all the tribespeople; instead, it continued to expand outward, engulfing the warriors outside along with the rest.
The Blood Hunt Cavalry outside the camp wheeled their horses around and retreated in haste, fleeing the billowing fog that seemed to pursue them.
The fog spread rapidly and soon reached the ritual site of the New Light Cult several kilometers away.
Upon arriving here, it advanced no further. Instead, it swirled around the fissure opened by the ritual, within which a blood-red silhouette seemed to be swelling continuously by drawing upon the fissure's power.
Having opened the fissure, the New Light Cultists had already pulled back to the perimeter, where they now held torches aloft, watching the scene unfold.
This entity had originally been a nature spirit worshipped by the First People. Once contaminated, however, it became an ideal vessel for certain beings from beyond the sky.
Yet such beings would not treat cultists any differently. For that reason, the cultists had used rituals to impose certain bindings beforehand. It had to strike at predetermined targets or consume offerings before it could break free of those constraints, thereby turning it into an unwitting instrument for their use.
Because entities of this sort closely resembled what their cult doctrines preached, watching the silhouette slowly writhe, expand, and emit faint rays of light filled the cultists' eyes with fanatical, rapturous zeal.
Yet right at that moment, they sensed something. The heavy sea fog suddenly churned—an unnatural, violent surge. Before they could even register what was happening, an intensely dazzling radiance pierced through the fog, slamming directly into the entity like a sky-cleaving meteor!
The entire strike occurred in the blink of an eye, and in that fleeting instant, the entire sky seemed to ignite.
The surroundings seemed to freeze for a moment, followed by a rolling, deafening blast. Everyone in the distance instinctively clutched their ears, while the horses panicked, bucking wildly and even throwing their riders to the ground.
When the flash subsided, more than half of the colossal silhouette within the mist was laid bare. Composed of coalesced light and vapor, it resembled a half-human, half-monstrous creature. A massive hole had been blown clean through its chest, held together only by frayed edges. Yet as the light and vapors churned, the wound showed signs of knitting back together.
The cultists' eyes went wide. Behind the creature, they saw a figure suspended in midair, bathed from head to toe in gleaming platinum light. Despite the vast difference in size, at this moment, that lone figure looked far more like a deity out of legend.
Looking down from above, Chen Chuan glanced at the creature, then cast a look toward the dazzling rent in space nearby. "A fissure?"
Its aura bore some resemblance to an ancient bane, yet differed in other ways. He had no need to puzzle over what it truly was; it was enough to know that the root of the problem lay with this creature.
He extended his hand, aiming downward.
Sensing immense danger, the creature instantly sought to evade, its body beginning to dissipate and melt into the lingering mist.
Yet out of the air reached two colossal, semi-translucent hands. With a resounding boom, they clamped down onto its shoulders, locking it immovably in place.
Fixing his gaze on what lay below, Chen Chuan let the radiance in his palm flare into brilliance. A blazing burst of platinum flame flashed violently forth!
Chapter 1061