"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Dashiell said, turning to face me. His eyes gleamed with amusement rather than anger. "To still be mouthing off after I just mopped the floor with you."
I stood my ground despite the pain radiating through my body. Blood trickled down my chin, but I refused to wipe it away. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me broken.
"You may be stronger than me now," I said, my voice steady despite my injuries. "But that won't always be the case."
Dashiell threw his head back and laughed. The sound echoed through my damaged home, mocking and cruel.
"Listen to yourself! An ant challenging a lion." He shook his head, genuine amusement in his eyes. "Do you even understand the gap between us? It's not just about cultivation or technique—it's about our very essence."
I took a step toward him, ignoring the sharp pain in my ribs. "I don't care about your family name or your status."
