Feng Fan exhaled slowly, watching the sand settle. "The cultivation world is cruel. One moment you think you're the hunter… the next, you're prey, dying with nothing but regret in your eyes."
Although Feng Fan felt no personal hatred toward the people of Green Mountain, he couldn't afford to show mercy. Letting them live wouldn't send the message he intended. The cultivation world had always followed a brutal logic: the weak perished, and the strong thrived. Right and wrong had no weight here.
'Whatever. They'd better surrender before I kill them all,' he thought.
Feng Fan closed his eyes once more, focusing on the arrays and attuning himself to the environment. He knew the next wave wouldn't take long to arrive.
—
Back at Green Mountain's camp, the lone surviving scout knelt before Song Xiaohui and He Peizhi. The man had no idea that everyone but him from the five squads of scouts was already dead.
