Void Cultivation-Chapter 241- Headless Corpse

Slowly, several minutes passed, and the white fog that covered everything began to roll back toward them. The small space Grey had carved out for himself was gradually swallowed by the advancing mist, inch by inch, until the boundary separating safety and danger began to blur.

As the white fog drew closer, figures began to emerge from within it.

Many creatures formed entirely from the fog appeared, their bodies vague and constantly shifting, as if they were struggling to maintain a stable shape. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, devoid of emotion, and their minds were completely blank.

Yet despite this emptiness, they possessed a crude instinct.

Their gazes locked onto Grey, filled with undisguised malice.

At that moment, Grey finished suppressing the shadow and slowly stood up. His movements were steady and unhurried, showing no sign of panic despite the encroaching danger.

His grey eyes were clear, but deep within them burned a profound and unfathomable light.

With a casual wave of his hand, several weapons appeared on the ground before him. These were the remaining Soul Weapons he had looted from Bao.

From this point onward, Grey planned to rely on Soul Weapons to fight. Now that a battle was inevitable, he saw no reason to be stingy and summoned every usable Soul Weapon at once.

Spears, swords, shields, and even fragmented pieces of armor scattered across the misty ground, forming a small arsenal around him. The weapons gleamed faintly, resonating with spiritual energy as they responded to his presence.

Grey’s gaze briefly swept over the weapons before landing on a particular item in his memory.

When looting Bao’s storage bag, he had once come across an incomplete set of armor. It was bronze in color, riddled with countless holes, as though it had existed for an incomprehensibly long time and borne witness to the ravages of endless ages.

Rust covered its surface, and the armor looked so fragile that Grey feared it would crumble into dust the moment he tried to wear it.

Even though it was worthless in his eyes, he hadn’t thrown it away. However, he also didn’t summon it now.

The purple scythe inside his storage ring suddenly stirred, releasing faint waves of killing intent. Through his connection with it, Grey could clearly sense its desire, to kill.

However, once the purple scythe began killing, it would not stop until it had tasted blood.

These creatures had no blood.

They were made entirely of fog, and when destroyed, their bodies would simply explode and disperse, dissolving back into the mist as though they had never existed.

Because of this, Grey hesitated to bring out the purple scythe.

With the number of Soul Weapons scattered across the ground, he wasn’t sure he needed it anyway.

As soon as the fog rolled within ten meters of him, several white-fog creatures suddenly burst forth and lunged at Grey.

Their abrupt appearance caused Grey’s pupils to contract, and his previously relaxed demeanor instantly grew serious.

Previously, he had been healing in a small area devoid of fog. Now that the fog was reclaiming the space, creatures were charging at him from every direction, their numbers rapidly increasing.

Their eyes were blank, yet their malicious intent toward outsiders was overwhelming.

In the blink of an eye, they were already in front of him.

Grey’s expression remained calm.

With a swift gesture, a Soul Weapon lying on the ground, a small knife, flew into his hand.

The moment the first creature drew close, Grey moved.

He slashed multiple times with the small knife, his movements sharp, fluid, and precise. Each strike carried lethal intent, leaving no room for hesitation.

Although it felt as though several moments had passed, only three breaths of time had gone by since the fog crossed the ten-meter mark and the creatures had surged toward him.

The knife shot forward and ruthlessly pierced the neck of the first creature.

It had a humanoid form, but its features were grotesque. Four eyes stared lifelessly from its distorted face, and two shorter arms protruded awkwardly from its sides, making its proportions unsettling to behold.

Before the creature could even let out a warning cry, Grey drove the knife into its neck several more times, each strike merciless and efficient.

He pulled the blade free.

Without a sound, the creature’s head separated from its body, and both dissolved into drifting fog.

However... this was far from the end.

The instant Grey killed that creature, three more emerged from the fog, their forms rapidly stabilizing as they charged forward.

They were also humanoid in appearance, but each differed slightly, as though the fog had molded them imperfectly, unable to fully replicate a living being.

Grey’s expression did not change.

He rotated the knife in his hand and slashed forward.

A violent gust of wind burst forth, sweeping aggressively into the advancing fog.

This wind did not originate from the surroundings as this place had no wind. It was created by Grey himself.

After being acknowledged as the Wind Monarch’s Scion, he had obtained abilities that only the Wind Monarch scions could wield. However, he had not truly become a Scion yet; he had merely received acknowledgment.

As for what it would take to fully become one, Grey did not know.

What he did know was that he needed to comprehend something profound about the wind itself.

The summoned wind merged seamlessly with the natural currents of this place, surging forward with amplified force. For a brief moment, it halted the fog’s advance and shredded several half-formed creatures before they could fully materialize.

Those few precious moments were more than enough.

Grey used them to steady his thoughts and prepare his next move.

The next second, an azure sword shot forward and pierced one of the rapidly forming creatures. The force behind the strike was immense, and the creature exploded into mist almost instantly.

Grey picked a direction and began to bulldoze his way through.

He knew he couldn’t stay in one place for too long. If he did, he would eventually be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

So he kept moving.

With the phantom and the Soul-Devouring Bird fighting beside him, they carved a path through the fog, clearing out any creatures that dared to block their advance.

Very soon, Grey’s divine sense caught onto something in the distance.

It was faint, blurry, and difficult to define, but it was undeniably real.

A living structure made from the fog.

’A structure!’

Grey exclaimed inwardly.

The image within his divine sense was vague, and its outline incomplete, but he could tell with absolute certainty that it was something artificial.

As Grey continued charging forward, he cleared a distance of five hundred feet and could feel the structure drawing closer.

Seeing this, he endured and pressed on, forcing his way through the increasingly dense fog.

Soon, he was only a thousand feet away.

As if the fog creatures sensed his intent, all of them began to converge, desperately blocking Grey’s path. Powerful entities such as the three-horned fog bulls appeared, their massive forms radiating oppressive pressure.

However, Grey did not fight them head-on.

Instead, he relied on speed, evasion, and precise movement, narrowly dodging their attacks until he finally reached the structure.

The moment he drew close, the fog creatures stopped forming.

As for those that had already manifested, not one dared to take a step within the perimeter of the structures.

Grey could still see the malice and hatred burning within their blank eyes, but they remained frozen in place, as though restrained by an invisible law.

Grey ignored them and turned his attention to the structures instead.

Within a radius of ten kilometers, several buildings lay scattered across the mist-covered ground. Their forms were mostly hidden by the seeping fog, but Grey could still make out their general shapes.

They resembled buildings, yet they had long since fallen into ruin. Once white, their surfaces had turned a dull brown after the passage of countless years.

Their original purposes could no longer be deduced, but clusters of collapsed walls and broken foundations hinted at what had once been a city.

Grey did not act recklessly and remained at the periphery of the area. Although fog creatures did not emerge here, the mist itself remained thick and oppressive.

Many of the structures appeared to have sunk partially into the fog, as if swallowed by it over time. Yet there was no visible ground beneath them, only endless white mist.

Grey observed the ruins from afar.

The feeling they gave him was that of a desolate and eerie city, abandoned and forgotten. In fact, they even resembled corroded zones to a certain extent.

They lacked the astronomical amounts of corrosive substances and bizarre entities, but the oppressive sensation they emitted was strikingly similar.

"Under normal circumstances, I would have ignored these structures and waited to recover fully before leaving," Grey said in a low voice.

"However, the captain mentioned that there are serendipities here that can’t be found outside. And this place is far too strange. The fog creatures clearly fear this area... there must be a deeper reason."

There was not a hint of fear on his face, only curiosity.

In his mind, the captain would definitely explore these structures.

Thus, after his injuries had recovered to some extent, Grey slowly walked toward one of the remaining clusters of buildings.

Their appearance was dilapidated, and the brown coloration, resembling dried blood, made the place even more unsettling. A faint stench of blood lingered in the air.

When Grey caught that scent, his expression changed, and his brows furrowed.

When he first arrived here, there had been no such smell.

He glanced coldly at his shadow and issued a command.

Though weakened after being suppressed multiple times, the shadow showed visible reluctance. However, after recalling the pain of suppression, it did not dare resist and quickly slipped into one of the nearest buildings to investigate.