A blinding flash of red light erupted, engulfing everything. The ground beneath them convulsed violently, and a deafening roar swallowed all other sounds. The world turned to fire and chaos.
Xiaochen felt a hammer blow, not just to his body, but to his very soul. Pain, raw and absolute, exploded through him, searing every nerve, every muscle fibre. He was hurled backwards, a ragdoll caught in a hurricane, the black sword ripped from his grasp. The world spun in a dizzying maelstrom of crimson and black. He heard screams, not just from the plaza, but from within his own mind, a primal shriek of despair and rage.
When he finally crashed, it was against a crumbling stone pillar, the impact stealing what little breath remained in his lungs. Dust and smoke choked him, burning his throat. His
