Three gates.

The White mist was thick and boiling.

Fu xuanxu, Zhongkui yueji, and ning Wuye advanced cautiously, surrounded by talismans that exuded a clear spiritual Qi.

The ancient compass floated in front of him, and runes shimmered in the void, guiding the way.

Beside Zhongkui yueji, a cluster of red spiritual fire was floating in the air. The flame was bright in color and danced frequently, but it could only illuminate a square inch of land. After two steps, it could no longer be felt.

Right now, all the flames were burning vertically, spitting out spiritual energy.

Ning Wuye made no sound as he stepped forward with his long sword on his back. As he stepped forward, his eyes bloomed with light. It was as if an unsheathed long sword was floating up and down, swallowing and spitting spiritual opportunity. Its sharp edge was hidden but not revealed, and it was ready to go.