Swiftly, the assassins attacked.
Four flanked from the left, their shadows stretching long in the dim golden light, blades whispering through the air.
Four more circled from the right, feet silent on the lush grass, eyes locked on vulnerabilities.
One slipped behind, cloaked in the valley's faint mist, while the leader charged head-on, his cold smile promising a quick end.
Escape felt impossible for Chen Mo.
His damaged ankle throbbed with every shift of weight, blood still seeping from his chest wound, staining the vibrant flowers at his feet.
But that's when the weirdest thing happened.
The once-blissful realm flipped abruptly, like the turning of a cursed coin.
The perpetual twilight sky darkened to an inky black, stars vanishing as though swallowed by void.
The warm, cozy qi that had invigorated his meridians twisted into something ominous, cold, heavy, laced with malice that prickled his skin like invisible needles.
