The mountain wind was like a blade, howling through the cliffs.
It lifted fine sand and gravel, lashing against the exposed rock surfaces.
Jagged cliffs rose steeply, almost vertically from the ground.
The surface of the gray-brown rocks was covered with the marks of wind erosion, like countless scars engraved by time.
The madman's eyes flashed like lightning, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his mouth: "Here they come."
Hongxuan turned at the sound, her crimson garments fluttering, meeting Qin An's gaze: "Just one of them?"
The madman's thin fingers lightly caressed the edge of a copper cauldron: "There's a tail following behind, but the one coming to die first, indeed, there's only this one."
Qin An's five fingers clenched, the black saber ringing as it struck the ground: "I should call you Valley Master, shouldn't I?"
The madman's eyes were clear: "Liu Er is dead?"
Qin An's thumb rubbed the hilt of the saber, contemplating: "Should be dead."
