Before anyone could even draw breath to speak, the Feng Chen-like figure raised one of his hands, turning it slowly as though proving something beyond words.
His movements were graceful but filled with an air of undeniable authority. Then, without even a glance, he struck the air with a gentle but deliberate motion.
It was a simple gesture... barely more than a flick of the wrist... but the impact was immediate and absolute.
Yin's ego, the dark and powerful entity that had sought dominance, froze in place. Its malevolent energy, which had roared with intent to devour everything, faltered.
For a brief moment, there was resistance, a struggling force fighting back... but it was futile. The authority in the figure's gesture was too overwhelming, too final.
