Xuefeng's plan was simple: inflict some wounds with the clone, then lure the bear toward the lake. He held his breath, approaching with painstaking stealth. But when he was two or three meters away, a twig snapped loudly beneath his foot, the sound cracking through the hush like a pistol shot.
Damn it.
He reacted on instinct, remembering Wuying's teachings about when to attack and when to run. Instead of pressing forward, he hurled himself into a backward roll—and not a moment too soon. The bear spun, growling, and brought one massive paw swinging into the spot where Xuefeng had just been crouching. Its claws shone like tempered steel, glinting with a strange metallic sheen that spread along the creature's fur.
