We walked straight past the old man in the white robe, yet he didn't spare us a single glance. He seemed fixed solely on the black mist before him, his face utterly expressionless.

“Hey! Old man, who are you!

What are you doing here!” Da Xiong shouted loudly at the old man as we passed. The old man ignored him, but his beard twitched, as if something had crossed his mind.

After we had passed him, the three of us all looked back at the old man. We saw that his white robe was actually billowing slightly.

In the complete absence of wind, this phenomenon was deeply unsettling. There is a saying in China: Wufeng Zidong (literally, moving without wind), used to describe those truly accomplished masters.

I had never known what circumstances truly fit the description of Wufeng Zidong before, but seeing the appearance of this old man, and his tall, unyielding posture, I felt I finally understood the meaning of the term. “He probably stuck a hidden electric fan in his long robes to put on a show, playing the mystic.

What is this old guy’s deal?” To have someone so full of immortal bearing described like that by Da Xiong left both Nie Chuan and me momentarily speechless. Just as I was about to snap at him, I saw the black mist surge towards the old man like a churning sandstorm.

The old man remained utterly unmoved, looking up towards the sky, his head of white hair whipping about like a banner in a gale. Suddenly, he raised both hands high, and a faint, almost inaudible whoosh seemed to emanate from all directions.

Before I could figure out what this strange sound was, a violent gust of wind suddenly erupted before us. The three of us quickly dropped low, trying to keep this sudden, ferocious wind from blowing us away.

But the giant rats we were riding could no longer withstand such a powerful squall, and their speed began to slowly decelerate. Listening to the roaring wind beside my ears, the surroundings became a blur of flying sand and rock.

Countless pieces of debris shot past us like flying knives piercing the air, narrowly missing our faces and sending shivers down our spines. At this point, the giant rats went from their initial swift pace to struggling to move forward, and then they nearly ground to a halt.

I knew this wasn't sustainable. If the giant rats couldn't resist the hurricane's impact and their bodies flipped over, we riders would surely be crushed underneath.

So, bracing against the wind, I slightly tilted my head up. I saw the giant rat beneath me twist its head, letting out a shrill, pitiful squeak.

As it trembled while forcing out a step, strands of white foam began to trickle from its mouth, and its blood-red eyes started to turn white. This was a phenomenon only seen when utterly exhausted.

Clearly, the previous desperate run and the fights had depleted almost all the creatures' vital energy. This situation had been observed in humans too—like athletes who overdose on stimulants, maintaining a false state of excitement until their bodies are completely broken down before they finally stop, resulting in the exhaustion accompanied by foaming at the mouth.

Except these rats hadn't ingested stimulants; they were fueled by intense mental stimulation. Struggling against the wind, I called for Da Xiong and Nie Chuan to quickly jump off the rats, lest we be swept away along with their bodies.

It took them a moment to understand what I meant. The three of us tumbled off the rats’ backs.

Instinctively, we should have been carried by inertia, stumbling forward a couple of steps or rolling a few times, but as soon as we leaned forward, the wind snapped us back. With no other option, the three of us had to forcibly cling to the ground, remaining motionless.

By doing so, no matter how strong the wind, we couldn't be easily blown away. The sensation was similar to when we encountered the Wind Pouch Snakes, but this time it was far more sudden and intensely violent.

Fortunately, after we had crawled on the ground for about a minute, the storm passed. Looking around, and sensing that the movement had indeed ceased, Da Xiong was the first to stand up.

Nie Chuan and I also rose, ignoring the dust coating our bodies and filling our hair, and immediately looked back toward the old man in white. The old man in white had vanished, and the black mist was nowhere to be seen.

All that remained before us were a few wheezing, disoriented rats. “Strange, where did the man go?

Did the wind blow him away?” Da Xiong muttered in confusion. I was just about to dismiss the idea when Nie Chuan pointed upward somewhere above us, his voice struck silent by astonishment: “This… this…” We quickly looked up and saw the old man in the white clothes suspended about twenty meters above our heads.

His feet seemed to be standing on a hazy, greyish mass, resembling a miniature whirlwind. The old man paused there, looking down at us.

But the moment the three of us simultaneously looked up, he turned his head away, fixing his gaze no longer on us, but on the cotton-candy-like substance beneath him as he drifted smoothly away. He flew in the direction of the Ghost Tower.

That Ghost Tower wasn't built underground; rather, a massive hole was opened in the cavern ceiling at its location, meaning the majority of the tower extended outside the cavern hall we were in. The old man rode his whirlwind, following the contour of the Ghost Tower as he ascended through the gap in the hall, quickly disappearing from our sight.

We watched, nearly stunned, because even that white-haired elder previously named Sasuke, no matter how powerful, couldn't fly. To me, only those who could fly freely in the sky were true immortals.

The foreign woman we’d seen earlier, achieving the 'Four Qi Returning to the Center' at the second tier of the residence, could only conjure ice shards at will—now, it seemed she was only on par with Da Xiong. For some reason, I had a powerful intuition that this wind-riding elder must have some connection to the Thunder Cloud Monk and the Cold Ice Foreign Woman.

Perhaps he was also one of the Four Great True Gods. These legendary monstrous figures kept appearing, yet they seemed to pose little real threat to Nie Chuan.

I figured that whether it was the ice-wielding foreigner or this wind-riding elder before us, killing Nie Chuan would be effortlessly simple, yet they seemed uninterested in doing so. Carrying our confusion, the three of us stepped forward.

After a few paces, I suddenly stepped on something on the ground that clicked loudly. I quickly moved my foot away and looked down.

It was an object resembling a token. Picking it up, I confirmed it was a dark, black token, apparently carved from black cypress wood, known for repelling insects.

The gilded character Lìng (Order/Command) inlaid on it had faded, giving it a profoundly ancient look. “This… did that old man leave this behind?” Nie Chuan asked, looking suspiciously at the token in my hand.

I paused, then shook my head. “I don’t know.

Why would he leave a token for us?” Clearly, none of us knew the answer, so we could only continue forward. Looking at the Ghost Tower not far ahead, its lights were still blazing.

People could be seen walking, others drinking, beautiful women dancing, and waiters pouring tea—it was quite lively. Although the three of us were intensely curious to see if the inside of the Ghost Tower was truly a world of singing and revelry, the books stated that the building would automatically vanish when anyone approached it.

Thus, we didn't hold much hope of actually reaching it. But things seemed different from what the texts described.

We walked forward for about ten minutes, feeling we were extremely close to the Ghost Tower, able to hear loud laughter and the music of pipes and strings from within, yet the building hadn't disappeared. We could sense we were right beside it.

The Ghost Tower thoroughly seized our curiosity, so the three of us quickened our pace, fearing we would miss the chance to board it. None of us expected to arrive right at the heavy, pitch-black wooden door on the lowest level of the tower.

The door was quite ordinary, somewhat dilapidated, with paint peeling off in several spots, yet it was clean, suggesting frequent use. Standing beneath the door and looking up, I could see the expanse of stars outside the cavern, and the brightly lit Ghost Tower seemed to pierce straight into the heavens—it was magnificent.

The three of us exchanged glances, and finally, I took the lead to knock. I swallowed hard, gripping the bronze door knocker, which was about the size of a fist, and tapped lightly a few times.

Fearing something terrible might happen, I backed away a few steps after knocking. A few seconds later, the door shifted, opening a narrow crack.

A faint, spectral blue light spilled from the gap, followed by a thin face, nearly twice the height of a normal person, appearing at the top edge of the crack. The three of us gasped in unison, because the door had to be at least four meters tall, and the person holding the lantern inside was clearly at least four meters tall as well.

The eye peering through the crack swiveled around before finally locking downward, fixing on the three of us. He scrutinized us intently, but his pupils, larger than a fist, sent shivers down my spine.

After observing us for a moment, the towering, strange man seemed perplexed. He opened the door crack slightly wider and extended a long, withered arm clad in a green robe from within.

The hand reached all the way to me, and the five distinctly jointed fingers spread out, seemingly demanding something. “He wants money, an entrance fee!” Da Xiong interjected from the side.

I cursed inwardly, wondering where he got that idea, and swiftly kicked Da Xiong before offering a sheepish smile. The giant didn't seem to mind, maintaining his wooden posture as he continued to extend his hand toward me.

Seeing Da Xiong fumbling for money, my mind raced, and I placed the ancient token into the giant’s hand. The giant froze for a moment, then slowly retracted his arm.

Afterward, he swung the door open by one side. I saw that the interior was pitch-dark, illuminated only by the lantern he held, which struck me as odd.

Nevertheless, I forced myself to step inside. The other two followed quickly after I entered, but they were stopped by the tall, thin-faced man.

He said nothing, merely shaking the token in his hand, implying that since we only had one token, only one person could enter. Da Xiong grew angry, rolling up his sleeves as if preparing to fight.

I tried to intervene, but then I saw the giant inhale deeply and then exhale with a sudden whoosh, blowing Da Xiong flat onto the ground. After knocking Da Xiong down, the thin-faced man clapped his hands over his stomach and began to laugh silently.