Lin Xinyao dragged herself up, her breaths ragged. Her lunar aura flickered—her power was draining.
Jian Yun hovered above her, his blade raised for the final strike.
"Submit," he intoned, his voice hollow.
Lin Xinyao's fingers tightened around her sword. She wouldn't fall here. Not like this.
She leaped—
But Jian Yun was faster.
His sword lanced forward—
And then—
The world turned red.
A crimson moon blotted out the sky, its bloody light drenching the battlefield in an eerie glow. The very air thickened, the scent of copper and iron flooding the senses.
Jian Yun's blade halted mid-swing, as if the space before him had solidified.
A voice, haughty and dripping with disdain, echoed across the wasteland:
"Disgusting. Two against one? How shameless."
A petite figure materialized between Lin Xinyao and Jian Yun, her long crimson hair whipping like flames in an unfelt wind. Her red robes fluttered as she lazily twirled a scarlet sword, its edge gleaming with ominous light.
