Before Ishirō could even realise what happened, in that very short moment, Shufeng had reached over the hilt of Jian's sword, his movement deft and agile with a perfect harmony of strength and speed.
Before Ishirō could even move, Shufeng had flung at him the blade reflecting brilliantly under the pale jade-white moonlight.
Emika was with great perturbation that she felt overcome by a strange heavy numbness and dizziness. It was as though oxygen fled her brain.
And Ishirō's shock, which was not the result of fear but utter surprise, flickered into something else—injured pride and wounded vanity.
Li Ji and Jian were also stunned into momentary silence.
