The moment the Devil Flame Fist struck, the world seemed to lurch sideways. The shockwave ripped through the clearing like a spirit tempest—leaves shredded midair, horses screamed, and the carriage, its lacquered frame splintering under the impact, soared upward before crashing back down in a thunderous explosion of dust and shattered wood. ~BOOOM~
The guards scattered like dry twigs before a gale. Two men were hurled into the underbrush, another tumbled across the dirt, armor scraping furrows into the soil. For a breathless moment, silence reigned—then came the groans of the wounded and the furious ringing of drawn steel.
"What in the heavens—!" one guard rasped, stumbling to his feet. His hands shook as he steadied his blade, scanning the smoke that now blanketed the wreckage. Out of that gray haze emerged a tall, broad figure, his posture regal, his expression a mixture of contempt and delight.
Li Wuji.
