The mist hung heavy in the air, each droplet trembling with the latent spiritual energy of the Great Wilderness.
Tian Shen's ribs still burned from the panther king's vicious strike, his breaths ragged as he pressed a trembling hand to his side.
Beside him, Feng Yin curled on the damp moss, one hand shading her eyes from the drifting moonlight, the other clutching her formation disc like a lifeline.
Little Mei—in her fox form still gleaming faintly with residual illusionary aura—lay curled at their feet, tail flicking as if dreaming of chase and play.
"Tian Shen…" Feng Yin's voice was hushed, coated with fatigue and concern.
"Your Spiritual Qi... it's still too raw. You tapped into your Solar Cultivation Technique and then rushed in. You nearly got us killed."
He managed a weak grin, crimson seeping at the corner of his mouth.
"Sometimes, you have to learn the hard way. I underestimated the panther king. But our retreat worked. We survived."
