Bailong’s familiarity with scents helped him pin the direction of Zihao. His sense was faint but the scent of blood and rotten food was thick trail. However, his dampened sense often lost the scent and eventually it was gone, leaving him hanging in the end. Unable to rely on his scenting ability, he used the sense of direction. The only problem was the image of the back of Zihao’s head often slipped, replaced by Hongli, causing him to lose track more often than not.
Qinglong said, “Your ability to scent is withering.”
Bailong shook his head and wrote in his hand, “I will be fine after we separate.”
The things he had learned today had him in a fix. Hongli, the fire totter, was related to the spirit agreement sitting on Kamiko’s finger. And just when he had labelled the man isolated and crude, he saw a calm and clumsy side to him.