A wide, unsettling grin split Liu Tong's face, twisting his features into a grotesque mask of amusement.
Without a single word of warning, he heaved the heavy battle axe back and carved three rapid, intersecting arcs through the air. Broad crescents of crimson spiritual force erupted from the blade, screaming across the short gap before Elder Hang could even lift a finger.
The red light swept over the surviving Cloud Peak disciples.
Steel tore through meat and bone with a wet, sickening spray. Crimson arc after crimson arc bisected bodies, severed limbs, and tore through torsos, painting the shattered earth in red. Dissevered remains collapsed into the dirt in a gruesome heap of blood and shredded cloth.
Elder Hang's eyes widened, the pupils contracting to pinpricks as his entire frame froze in absolute horror. Warm blood splattered across his wrinkled cheeks, but his mind flatly refused to process the slaughter before him.
