L
The last mercenary looked around, eyes wild.
Blood was everywhere. Screams were still echoing off the walls. His comrades—ruthless men, feared men—now nothing more than twitching corpses at the masked stranger's feet.
"You devil!" he spat, backing away. "You—what the hell are you?!"
The figure didn't answer.
His mask gleamed faintly in the flickering lantern light.
The bandit turned—and ran.
But not toward the door.
Toward her.
Xia Lin's eyes widened.
"No—!"
He sprinted to the raised platform where she dangled over the water chamber, still bound by soaked ropes.
Her limbs were too weak to fight. Her screams were hoarse. Her strength—gone.
But her eyes never looked away from the blade in his hand.
"Let's see you save her, devil!" he barked. "She's the only lead you've got!"
He hurled his sickle.
It sliced through the air.
It hit the rope.
A snap echoed through the room.
Then—
Xia Lin dropped.
Straight into the black pool below.
