Zhao Yin's hands were a blur as they moved through a series of intricate gestures, each one sealing his aura deeper into a state of inexistence.
His movements were precise, calculated, and imbued with a dark energy that seemed to warp the very air around him.
He could feel the weight of the approaching beasts, their presence a constant pressure at the back of his mind, like a guillotine poised to fall. The Stormwing Shadow Leopard and its companions were closing in, their predatory instincts honed on his scent.
Time was running out.
With swift, deliberate motions, he began setting up formation flags, each one imbued with a specific rune that glowed faintly in the dim light of the forest clearing.
The flags were made of a strange, obsidian-like material, their surfaces etched with ancient symbols that pulsed with a faint, ominous light.
