Xing Yu felt his heart go still for a second. Then, an unbelievable amount of sadness filled his being. His long hair, tied up in a low ponytail, suddenly snapped free, strands fluttering wildly in the dusty air. His eyes shifted into a pale, piercing shade of silver as an overwhelming wave of emotion surged through him.
"No... he... he couldn't have died..." he mumbled, voice raw, as he clenched his fists tight. The muscles in his arms strained, veins bulging, making him look like a force of nature barely restrained. "I'll find him... I'll find him," he whispered again and again like a chant, trying to steady the whirlwind in his chest.
The old man was already ahead of him, trembling, stumbling toward the ruined city. "He must be at the plaza... I heard... I heard them..." the old man mumbled, voice distant and shaking.
Hearing that, Xing Yu's head snapped up. Without another word, he took off.
