Chapter 407: The Great Desert

Bai Lang fled in a desperate sprint, his long legs whirling like a windmill, a long trail of dust billowing behind him. He put a distance of one li between himself and the pursuers—neither too far nor too short—so that if they had a Lightness Skill master they could catch up with a single breath, but a relaxed breath would let them fall behind.

"It's also strange; among these factions there must be inner‑outer projection experts—if they send one, I'd be finished," Bai Lang thought as he ran, because he was gradually realizing that the pursuers didn't seem determined to do anything specific to him; of course, if he stopped, they wouldn't mind whatever they wanted to do to him......

He exhaled a long breath; now there was no point in overthinking—just run...... The chase and escape went on for two days and one night. Bai Lang's breath was long, his flesh body robust; a night without sleep and two days of nonstop running meant nothing to him, and his pursuer was also an Innate Expert, so the drain was equally negligible—since they never engaged in combat, it was merely a run, which mattered to no one.

So they "escorted" Bai Lang to the border—by half a day earlier the surroundings were already endless yellow sand. Indeed, Bai Lang had chosen the wrong direction; he was heading north into the Desert Gobi, a land of barbarians, and as soon as he passed a few passable mountain‑oasis checkpoints he would be out of the Great Yan Kingdom.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief; as long as Bai Lang emerged unharmed or crashed to death at the checkpoint, they could all go home—though their bodies weren't tired, after two days and a night of pursuit everyone felt a bit bored and listless. The checkpoint was Xiong City, which housed many masters, and the city possessed a special spell—yes, a spell Bai Lang had not yet encountered. Fewer people can cultivate it, but its power and utility are not superior to martial arts; in the end, cultivation of it leads to the same destiny as martial masters—everyone becomes an immortal or deity.

Those who cultivate spells are called Immortals, whereas the martial path leads to divinity.

Bai Lang was also a powerhouse; without a second thought he charged straight into the Desert Gobi—this place stretches for thousands of li, and a typical master who doesn't know the way would find it hard to survive, not only because of the harsh desert but also the ever‑changing sky phenomena, the terrifying beasts lurking in the Gobi, and the fugitives who have taken refuge here.

Even inner‑outer projection experts must be wary of the sky phenomena here, and the beasts are no different; the major villains in this region are generally at the Innate level. Respectable people stick to the proper paths; those who break in abandon certain rights, and the guards at the city gate naturally don't intervene.

Thus Bai Lang crossed the border unharmed, and his pursuers halted. Members of Six and a Half Hall released a peculiar little bird—alive and vivid yet unmistakably a mechanical beast; after circling a few times it turned into a flash of light and flew toward the depths of the Gobi. Then the groups went their separate ways—people from the Weiwei Office headed to the border pass, while the Golden Breeze Fine Rain Tower and Six and a Half Hall split into two routes to return. One can imagine that along the way each group will face various attacks from the other side's dispatched personnel, and whether they can return safely is uncertain.

Bai Lang cheerfully plunged into the wasteland; aside from his clothes and a few pieces of gold and silver, he carried nothing else, and he had no map. A person like that, taking the off‑road route into the Gobi, should have perished in great numbers, but he is an Innate Expert; a flesh‑body Innate Expert has enough confidence to be self‑sufficient.

The Gobi does have water, but any water exposed on the surface is either salty brine undrinkable or laced with bizarre toxins; only the strange creatures that live there can drink portions of it, and non‑poisonous water sources are the most precious treasures here—without equal.

Such water sources inevitably form harmless oases; these oases line the main roads, and each oasis inevitably has a powerful individual as its master, earning a fortune from the fees paid by passing merchants. Deep in the Gobi there are also such oases, but if they are off the main road they become inaccessible, and the criminals who have erred and the desperate ones gather there, forming bands that attempt to raid the merchants on the main routes for survival.

Bai Lang's flesh body is robust; a shortage of water would only test him for a long time, but drinking salty brine or poisonous water is not to his liking—starving his mouth is unwise, and his Golden Bell Shield hasn't reached the level of being immune to a hundred poisons yet—he thinks he's close but not quite there. Most poisonous water should be ineffective on him, but what if it's a small portion? Besides, the taste is terrible; he'll consider it when he finds poisonous water that tastes sweet.

Bai Lang marched under the scorching sun, not knowing which direction the oasis lay; as long as he kept moving in one direction he would eventually get out—anyway, he's far better than that Nathan monkey; that guy was a plane that crashed in the desert, holding a useless AK and couldn't find water...

Ahead was a pool, oddly fed by brown liquid seeping from the top of a rock on one side, flowing along the stone into the lower stone basin; the rock's groove didn't overflow, perhaps another hidden opening let the water escape. "Brown water," Bai Lang muttered. There were no animal tracks nearby, but the damp ground beside the stone groove sprouted some similarly brown plants that Bai Lang couldn't identify.

"Want to give it a try?" Bai Lang stared for a while, then decided to give up—what if it's a lethal toxin he can't handle? Just as he was about to leave, the ground suddenly trembled, "Hm?" The creature shifted form and vanished, then sand and dust billowed as a huge mouth, like a flower petal blooming and bristling with sharp teeth, surged up from the ground and snapped at nothing.

Bai Lang stood aside but saw the creature clearly—a meat worm, as thick as a water jar, its length exceeding two zhang—based on the tremor, Bai Lang also sensed its underground length. The worm's head bore a three‑petal, flower‑like mouth; it had no eyes or ears, but Bai Lang noticed a lot of "hairs" growing on its head.

"So it uses those hairs to sense vibrations," Bai Lang muttered thoughtfully. To ordinary people the creature would be deadly, but to an Innate Expert it's like a mouse; Bai Lang flicked his wrist, shaping the air with his power into a sharp wind projectile and fired.

The creature's hide was indented by the pressure, yet the wind projectile didn't pierce it. Bai Lang's casual strike earned him a sigh, "Interesting, this thing." His blow was comparable to a strong bow or a heavy crossbow; its power was roughly on par with an Eight‑Ox Crossbow, yet it couldn't penetrate the creature's skin. It seemed to be premium hide material.

"I just don't know if this thing is a protective animal," Bai Lang muttered, then glanced at his hand and at the meat worm retreating, weighing whether to thrust his hand inside and end up with his hand covered in slime?