Shu Ming's fingers trembled as they clenched into a fist.
"Haha…"
Rong's laughter cut through the battlefield like cracking stone.
"Ming, why are you hesitating?"
She turned her molten gaze toward her, lips curled in undisguised delight.
"Make a quick decision. This is a battlefield," Rong continued, voice sharp with mania rather than counsel. "If you can't decide quickly, then as an Elder of the Shu, you are failing the trust placed in you."
There was no intention to help.
No concern.
Only Rong's addiction to chaos – her hunger to see someone break.
Kiaria's earlier question still lingered like a blade suspended mid-fall.
That single sentence had carved a fracture straight through the battlefield's momentum.
Even Rong had been forced to halt.
Kiaria hovered in midair, gaze calm, unmoved by the pressure below.
"Roga Rong," he said evenly, voice carrying without amplification,
"You're here to avenge your brother."
Rong's pupils tightened.
