Chapter 1050: Chapter 167: Eight Thousand Miles to the Western Regions

Moreover, the horses bred beneath the snow mountains are exceptionally hardy; they can even graze on the sparse patches of withered grass on the permafrost, making them much easier to care for.

The source of this misconception for the Parthian people was precisely Wang Anfeng, who was sitting on horseback.

A martial artist at the Middle Third Rank nurtures qi mechanisms, yet cannot work behind closed doors.

After experiencing an unprecedented intense battle, in the final assault with those two elders, Wang Anfeng became much more adept at wielding the divine weapon. His qi mechanism was continuously stimulated and elevated with each plain and intense collision.

Only then could he unleash that final strike of three hundred miles of drifting snow.

He was able to conceal himself because of this newly gained insight. A martial artist at the Middle Third Rank can already manipulate qi mechanisms, and one of the signs of a Sixth Rank martial artist advancing to the Fifth Rank is the ability to invoke visible phenomena by moving Heaven and Earth when they strike.

Whether it be a tiger roaring in the mountains or an azure dragon splitting water.

Thus, for a Fifth Rank martial artist like him, slightly manipulating his own qi mechanism to create visual illusions for martial artists below his skill level is pretty simple, though he previously lacked the entry point.

Such methods can only be detected by martial artists above the Sixth Rank, who have begun nurturing qi mechanisms. To discern his true form, only a skilled martial artist from the Fifth Rank could do it.

Using the power of the divine weapon for this task might allow even a Fourth Rank to catch a glimpse.

Wang Anfeng sat on horseback, exhaling a breath of white air, gazing into the endless distance. At his current pace, it would take several more days to reach Yumen Pass.

He did consider going alone.

But after contemplating the complex environment outside the region, he dismissed the idea.

After all, the grasslands and snow mountains of the Western Regions and the Northern Frontier differ greatly. More often, there are vast barren fields with undulating highs and lows, and besides that, there’s the boundless desert. Wang Anfeng had never seen a desert before but had read about it in texts, understanding the desert environment and the sandstorms feared like a fierce tiger.

At his peak, he could deliver a slash yielding three hundred miles of drifting snow.

But the expanse of a sandstorm far exceeds that, and it blots out the sun and sky. Resisting the force of Heaven and Earth alone is probably something only powerful grandmaster martial artists could achieve.

Moreover, after a sandstorm, the desert’s terrain often undergoes drastic changes, necessitating seasoned experts to accurately navigate and find the scattered oases within the desert.

Reluctantly, he had to find a guide.

When he handed the key of his lodging to the fat merchant, the latter mentioned having a Parthian acquaintance who often traveled here and was about to set off, returning to Parthia from Xiong City in a few days.

One thing led to another, and he joined this Parthian’s return home team.

Parthian men are generally bold and unrestrained, trusting of their friends. They had no objections to the merchant’s arrangement, especially after hearing from this Qin man that he was a doctor, which made them even more welcoming.

Every Parthian who had visited the Great Qin hoped to have roving doctors like those in the Great Qin visiting the various oases, treating him kindly. However, Wang Anfeng was doomed not to stay long in their oases, as he had his own matters to attend to.

White Tiger Hall.

Qunxing Pavilion.

And the old fortress leader of the Great Wilderness Stronghold…

He touched the blade at his waist, the Mo Blade fitted with a curved saber scabbard commonly used by Parthian warriors, as the blade was broken, it could still be sheathed.

The hilt was ice cold.

A rough melody was reverberating.

……

The young Parthians were more eager than Wang Anfeng to return home. Apart from necessary restocking and sleeping, they were constantly on the move, wishing they could merge with the wind and be blown thousands or tens of thousands of miles back home, to a warm tent, drinking sheep milk, eating roasted flatbread, listening to the familiar voices of children.

It took just over ten days to reach the empire’s last barrier, Yumen Pass, and immediately they refused to linger for half a day. Taking advantage of the light before dusk, they set off again.

Once out of Yumen Pass, the Heaven and Earth remained the same, but the feeling was different, increasingly rugged and vast, with no grasslands, only hard land, exposed bare beneath the clouds.

Finally, even that land was gone.

The ground turned to sand, with coarse, hard sand grains; the air was cold, though lacking any moisture, as if someone was forcing a coarse lump of sand into your mouth and throat, compelling you to swallow.

Even in winter, this place was hard and dry.

The leading man had a Qin State name, called Xia Man. He told Wang Anfeng that this place wasn’t always like this. In summer, some areas would sprout grass with extensive roots, making those places look less like deserts and more like wasteland.

A large number of animals rely on those few months to grow fat and gather energy for the year, including leaping deer, running herds of wild cattle, ferocious predators, and humans.

In winter, without a trace of grass, it becomes what it is now, where water is equivalent to life. All Parthians living on this vast expanse depend on oases for survival.

Men carry hunting bows on their backs, ride fine horses, and hunt the wild animals on the plains.