Taking a brief, steadying breath, Yī shifted his gaze from the target for just a moment.
His eyes swept over the scattered remnants of his group, carefully noting who had managed to survive the onslaught.
"Èr… Shí Èr… Bā… Liù… Jiǔ… Qī…" Yī counted silently, his jaw clenching as the realization sank in:
"Sān... Sì... Wǔ... Jiǔ... Shí... Shí Yī... All of them are dead."
Yī gritted his teeth but forced himself to swallow his emotions, knowing full well this outcome was always a possibility in their line of work.
They had survived countless missions, each more dangerous than the last, but even with that experience, he hadn't anticipated this.
A mere boy—one they thought easy prey—had wiped out half his people with an eruption of raw, untamed power.
The thought gnawed at Yī, but he couldn't afford to falter now.
"Let's move!" he barked, urgency lacing his tone as he moved his eyes back toward the target.
