Feng Chen stood in the center of a blood-soaked battlefield, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
The once vibrant forest clearing was now drenched in the blood of the men he had torn apart, their lifeless bodies strewn around him like broken toys.
The air was thick with the metallic stench of death, and the ground beneath him was wet with blood, pooling around his feet.
But none of it mattered to him. He had completely forgotten about Yin and Yang. The sight of their bound bodies, the fear of losing them... those thoughts had all but vanished from his mind.
All he wanted now was more blood. His red, beastly eyes darted to the carriage ahead, and a twisted grin spread across his face. It was awfully quiet, too quiet. But he didn't care.
