The flames of anger burned in her chest, yet she felt utterly helpless.
More than seventy...
She looked up at Hoong Dan and a few others in front of the hall, then at the icy faces above the hall, those who claimed to uphold 'justice,' like the supervising elder Hoong Zhuo of the Red Flame Race. Hoong Ying could barely control herself.
But...
She struggled to calm herself, steadied her breathing, trying to regain composure.
Yet the more she did, the fiercer the fire in her chest burned.
The flames were fueled by reluctance, anger, and countless grievances.
Why was she condemned to suffer countless cold stares and ridicule from the moment of birth?
Hoong Ying looked at the silver sword she had refined in front of her, with murderous intent growing in her eyes.
Her right hand reached out, grasping the silver sword, she walked towards the front of the hall.
"Do you still want to kill me?" Hoong Dan looked disdainful.
