I stood alone, hidden behind the shadow of a towering tree. The night enveloped me like a shroud, and my darkness aura surged, merging seamlessly with the pitch-black surroundings.
The stillness of the air was heavy, almost suffocating, but it was my ally tonight. This was no time for hesitation or mercy.
Tonight, I will reap the lives of the unlucky ones—silently, swiftly, without remorse.
The scythe in my hand pulsed with energy, hungry for what was to come.
The first group of two approached swiftly, their footsteps growing louder as they closed the distance. My eyes scanned their auras, trying to decipher their strength, but no matter how hard I focused, I couldn't make sense of it.
Nine extremely thin lines shimmered faintly across their bodies, stacked atop one another like a fragile tower. Was this the Soul Birth stage? Or perhaps Soul Bend? I couldn't tell. Frustration bubbled in my chest—how did cultivators always seem to determine someone's realm with just a glance?
