Faced with her own limitations, Ye Qingyue leaned on the weight of her esteemed position to deter her assailants.
However, there was no response from the other side, leaving Ye Qingyue increasingly anxious.
Whoosh!
In the nick of time, she hurriedly darted away from her previous position. Two scythes cleaved through the air, landing precisely where she had been, triggering lingering goosebumps and leaving a chilling trail in their wake. A few strands of her hair drifted down, severed—proof that the danger was all too real.
Instinctively, she grasped the pendant the old sage had bestowed upon her, a last resort to be used only when her life was truly imperiled.
Shua!
Yet, before she could activate the pendant, a swift and shadowy hand intercepted it, wresting the pendant from her grip.
"What!?"
