Even though Ling Yu seemed weak, her breath ragged and her limbs trembling, in reality, it was nothing but a ruse, a carefully laid trap.
Her silver lashes fluttered as her chest rose and fell, feigning exhaustion, her sword half-buried in the soil beside her. The faint shimmer of sweat on her skin made her look vulnerable, like a lone warrior on the verge of collapse.
But her eyes, which were sharp and calculating, never once lost their focus.
Ling Yu knew too well that the corruption wasn't so easily destroyed. The dark spirits were like carrion birds, patient, and cunning, waiting for weakness to reveal itself before devouring their prey. And she, standing alone in the heart of the corrupted clearing, was giving them exactly what they wanted to see.
Her voice was steady, though faint, as she whispered under her breath, "Come closer."
The black fog that had seemed to dissipate moments ago began to churn once more.
