The dust settled slowly in the Grand Cauldron Arena, coating the blood-soaked ground in a grim, grey shroud. Sect Mistress Lianhua lay broken amidst the wreckage of her sect's honor, her white robes torn and stained with the mud and gore of her fallen loyalists.
Fu Yan hovered above her, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion of the battle, but his face was a mask of pure, unadulterated triumph. He had won. The sect was his.
Yet, the old fox remained cautious. He had seen cornered beasts lash out with lethal finality before. He would not take that risk with a Core Formation expert, even one as battered as Lianhua.
He didn't immediately descend to gloat. instead, he reached into his sleeve and withdrew a sinister artifact. It was a long, impossibly thin needle, forged from abyssal black iron and steeped in soul-corroding poisons for a century. The "Soul-Severing Meridian Nail."
