The jagged grey rocks of the mountain plateau were slick with dark, cooling blood.
The biting mountain gale screamed across the barren ridge, whipping the dry dust into stinging swirls that bit against exposed skin.
Underneath the heavy iron heel of the Sword Emperor, Wei Zhingyi felt the bones in her chest creak with agonizing slowness.
Every tiny breath scraped against her cracked ribs like broken glass.
The nine magnificent silver tails that once fanned out behind her with ancient pride were scorched, broken, and dragged through the red mud like discarded rags.
Blood bubbled between her pale lips, staining her chin and the torn fabric of her collar.
Her inner meridians were shattered, dry, and cold as frozen ditches.
Yet, looking up into the cold, ancient eyes of the old rogue, the stubborn fire of the celestial fox bloodline burned in her pupils.
"Treasure? Heh." Wei Zhingyi gritted her teeth and glared at him, "I'd rather die."
