The storm overhead swelled as if in mourning, clouds roiling like coals beneath a bellows. A crackling arc of crimson lightning tore the sky asunder, flashing briefly against the shattered mask of the second guardian, now nothing more than powdered fragments lost amidst the rot. The silence that followed was not peace—it was breath held before a scream.
Leng Yue strode forward, expression calm, blood spattering her cheek. The red glinted against the silver of her blade, now dulled from too many clashes. She cast a glance toward Li Wei—his breathing labored, his skin pale from qi depletion.
"You should rest," she said. "Your energy's waning." Before arriving in this world, the young maiden had never seen the young master this engrossed in combat. He had been a hermit who spent his time on women and gambling.
