For others, it might have been symbolic, but for them, it was shattering. Master Liu was not a normal person, and their relationship was governed by ancient, sacred rules that even he was bound to.
Jiho's body convulsed, her fingers clawing at the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the searing pain.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the inferno within.
The tears fell freely now, mingling with the blood still oozing from her wounded palm, forming a macabre mixture on the ground.
Master Liu's face, usually a mask of calm and wisdom, now showed raw, unfiltered anguish. His eyes, which had seen so much over the years, reflected the depth of his sorrow and helplessness.
He reached out a trembling hand towards Jiho but hesitated, his own internal conflict rendering him immobile.
