"Haa~... hmm~ haa~... hmm~ haa~..."
'I take my thoughts back, she's a demon'
Feng Yi looked at Ye Ling with eyes half-closing from fatigue, her body aching all over as she was at her very limits, holding on to the ox-tailed sword that was thrust into the ground as she half-sat, one knee touching the ground.
Her chest was heaving as was her whole upper body, trying to catch her breath and greedily taking in the cold air and creating white clouds with heavy exhales.
The fiery red hair which were as usual collected into a ponytail were drenched in sweat, causing the few strands she usually left to freely fall to the sides of her face to cling to her wet skin.
Her armor which usually was polished to the point of resembling a mirror and without any blemishes was covered in dirt as well as many shallow, barely visible by themselves but quite apparent because of the sheer number of them thin scratch marks that crisscrossed the metal plates.
