The battle had reached a suffocating standstill.
The question hanging in the turbid water was no longer whether Xiao Ming and Tian Xueyang possessed the strength to contend with the Tai brothers, but rather if they would possess the benevolence to spare them.
The water around Xiao Ming still hummed with the resonance of his power, his eyes sharp and focused, yet the murderous edge began to dull as the immediate threat waned.
He prepared to exhale, to let the tension bleed out into the current, when the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose.
It was a primal warning, sharper and colder than the surrounding sea.
His gaze snapped upward.
A single white petal drifted down through the dark water.
It moved with an impossible lightness, ignoring the drag of the currents, glowing with a faint, spectral luminescence.
Then came another. And another.
Within seconds, the deep sea was transformed into a surreal garden as a deluge of white lily petals rained down upon them.
