The area of Grey Valley is vast.
Before coming, Xia Nan had already learned this from the village chief, Clapam.
However, because it is filled with gray rocks and monotonous terrain, even during the safe periods when the axe-beaked bird flocks have yet to appear, few villagers have the leisure to explore deeply within.
At present, it seems like I’ve been following the adventurer team for quite some time.
But as the team in front had to be wary of potential enemies around them, their pace slowed down considerably, so they’ve likely not even reached halfway through the valley.
As they ventured deeper, the fog in the air noticeably grew thicker.
Though it doesn’t contain magic particles, it’s quite similar to the environment inside Mist Forest.
And compared to the latter, this seemingly ordinary natural fog, upon reaching a certain density, possesses a perplexing effect.
Xia Nan observed very carefully. This gray-white mist, filling every corner of his sight, not only made sound transmission become sluggish and faint but also seemed to have a slight ability to distort the sense of direction and distance.
For an ordinary person, no matter how well they usually recognize paths, they would undoubtedly be confused walking here for two laps.
It’s my exceptional perception ability that allows me to move with ease.
In contrast, the adventurers ahead have even slowed their walking pace compared to when they first entered the valley.
Interestingly, this roundabout interaction has made the fog a natural camouflage for Xia Nan in this area.
No longer needing to keep a great distance behind, even when getting a little closer, his somewhat clumsy stealth skills would keep him from being detected by the group.
"Laluf (a Beastman language curse), this damned place is like Mist Forest, Gorg can’t see the way ahead."
Walking at the front of the team, the half-orc Gorg mumbled to himself.
As the frontline "Tank" of the team and the "consumable" in Captain Marcus’s eyes, it had long been his habit to lead the way in such dangerous environments.
There was opposition in the tribe, but to be honest, for a professional level adventurer team to accept such a volatile and irritable teammate, it can only be done this way.
This is the fate for most half-orcs unwilling to live impoverished lives in the Grassland Tribe.
Perhaps in a highly unlikely future, once Gorg develops the habit of saving money or improves his intelligence, he might choose to leave this dangerous lifestyle and seek another way of living.
But for now, he can only carefully advance in a direction he has no sense of, under the command of the humans behind him.
In the team, those with outstanding perception abilities are Captain "Blood Blade" Marcus and the ranger archer Qianli.
The former stays close behind Gorg, guiding the half-orc on the path; the latter is protected in the middle of the team, staying vigilant for any possible danger around.
As for the mountain dwarf named "Stone Belly," he walks at the very back of the team, carrying his double-bladed giant axe that almost drags on the ground.
He looks a bit agitated.
After Marcus speculated that an ancient ruin might be hidden in this valley, the dwarf’s spirits noticeably perked up.
If he weren’t worried about enemies hiding in the fog, he would likely have started licking every inch of the ground from the entrance of Grey Valley, not missing a single copper coin.
For now, he can only stare anxiously at the thick fog on both sides, his greedy eyes flickering with excitement.
And as he is internally frustrated with the possible fifth piece of high-quality enchanted equipment he might be missing in the fog,
the longbow slightly swaying with the ranger’s movements in front suddenly came to a halt.
A cold light flickered in front, and an arrow with black feathers at its end was already placed on the bowstring.
Realizing something was wrong, he quickly grasped his giant axe handle and briskly moved forward to ask the two at the front of the team.
The response was a stern look from Captain Marcus, full of warning, along with the half-orc Gorg lying prostrate on the ground, his back rigid and motionless.
Following their gaze, he saw what appeared to be a suffocatingly narrow plaza.
Most of the time, these two words wouldn’t fit together, but in Stone Belly’s eyes, they perfectly described the open space ahead.
First, it undeniably was a plaza, given the stone patterns barely visible under the dust and its spaciousness capable of accommodating hundreds of people, it genuinely existed right there. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel•fire.net
In the center of the plaza, there was even a small fountain basin long dried up.
Meanwhile, the open space was surrounded by countless buildings.
Towers, residences, even a small chapel... Some had collapsed, leaving only a few dilapidated walls, while others loomed as hazy silhouettes in the fog.
It was as if there were no plans during the design; these building remnants were stacked together in an extremely dense, chaotic manner.
Complex and disorderly.
Huge stone blocks, broken beams, twisted metal frames... Building debris piled and supported one another, resembling a giant beast’s carcass. Encircling the plaza formed precarious-looking walls that appeared to be on the verge of collapse.