"I have heard a lot about Fan ZhiHao's silver," Bai's voice sounded amused behind the mask. "They pierce through almost everything, including you demons."
PingZe stood unflinching beneath his own arrows. With one flick of Bai's finger, the arrows would rain down on him, killing him on the spot. Now that he was only a soul travelling through Hell, the silver could tear his soul apart.
PingZe didn't fear death; he had died once as a traitor. The only regret in his life was not being there by ZhiYi's side until the end as he avenged their brothers' death. But he wouldn't regret anything else, he would return XiaoHe's soul to its rightful place, no matter what. He would only get one shot at it, and after that, Bai would move for the kill. It was the matter of speed, and time was slipping from between his fingers like water.
