Taking a closer look, Yu Xuan saw her.
A woman, if she could even be called that — stepped out of the black gates with the unhurried grace of someone who had never once feared the world.
She was nearly six feet, her figure draped in a flowing black dress that shimmered faintly.
Her hair was the same abyssal black, cascading down her back like a waterfall of shadows. Even her nails gleamed obsidian, sharp and polished to a lethal perfection.
The contrast of her blood-red eyes against her pale, doll-like face was so striking it seemed unreal. And her lips, painted the crimson color, curved faintly upward, as if amused by some joke.
Yu Xuan's brow twitched.
"A Witch, no... a semi-goth cultivator?" The stray thought popped into his head before he could stop it. He immediately regretted it, but it was too late, now he couldn't unsee it.
Yet, beneath his humor, unease gnawed at him. She didn't radiate oppressive aura. No killing intent pressed down on him. Nothing.
