Needing no further prompting, Wu Ling first threw his talisman. Since becoming a middle-stage Aesthete the complexity of characters he was able to empower had increased. At the moment, eight strokes was about his limit but those eight strokes allowed him to attempt something new. His first talismans had focused on simple elemental forces but this time he opted for something more primal and fundamental to all living creatures.
The word he'd chosen to open this duel with was 'Fear.' As the talisman flew through the air the inky black strokes of the character took on a life of their own, flowing off the parchment-like dark black smoke and swirling around Xiong Dahuo's saber to penetrate directly into his chest.
