When Sian struck Zhao Ling, the latter crashed into a tree behind him and then collapsed to the ground in pain.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Sian charging toward him. To be honest, Zhao Ling had never experienced such fear in his entire life—not even during his years as a soldier. The feeling of impending death... It was as if the gates of hell had opened before him.
He was frightened. For the first time in his life, Zhao Ling found himself paralyzed, unable to move or utter a single word. Panic churned in his stomach like a storm, a sensation foreign to him.
Zhao Ling had always been sharp-tongued, a master of provocation even in the presence of enemies. His characteristic smirk, a blend of mischief and bravado, had earned him the nickname "The Jester" on the battlefield. It wasn't exactly a title that inspired fear, but it served its purpose—causing confusion among adversaries and giving his allies a reason to chuckle in the darkest of moments.
