Ye Yang heaved and pushed himself to his feet, surveying his surroundings. He found himself on a plain of dull green grass, punctuated by a small, solitary hill that rose in the distance.
The vast expanse around him stretched out endlessly, an empty canvas against the pale sky.
The atmosphere was eerily serene, a deceptive calm that settled over him. Ye Yang knew, with a chilling certainty, that this tranquillity was merely the prelude to a new and even more dangerous challenge.
Suddenly, a low, guttural roar erupted from the small hill behind him. Ye Yang whirled around to see a horde of something emerging from the distant slope.
From this distance, they appeared no larger than a swarm of ants, but Ye Yang's instincts screamed at him that these were no ordinary creatures.
He readied himself, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. Panic threatened to grip him, realizing he was unarmed.
