[MAKE YOUR CHOICE, WARRIOR. WHO WOULD YOU SAVE?]
The voice thundered through Su Xiaobai's mind, cold and unforgiving. Before he could curse the heavens, the mist coiled, shaping itself into a flickering humanoid figure.
The shadow stepped forward, its presence oppressive, its voice a quiet blade breaking through his thoughts.
"Take this," it said, extending a dagger that shimmered like molten starlight. "Kill three, and one may leave. That is the price of passage."
Su Xiaobai's lips curled in a sneer. "Kill three? How original. Who dreams up this garbage?"
But his disdain faltered as the figures ahead emerged from the mist.
Four shapes.
Four faces.
The first figure? Oh, fantastic—it was him.
