Utusan Lin stood in the center of what was once the Grand Hall, a desecrated tomb of shattered stone and smoldering wood. The air, thick with the scent of ash and blood, still held the chilling echoes of dying Qi. His violet eyes, gleaming with a terrible anticipation, scanned the debris-strewn floor, the blasted walls, searching. He could feel it—a ripple of profound sorrow, mixed with steely resolve, radiating from deep within the mountain's core. You're still here, Li Chen, he thought, a cold purr of satisfaction vibrating in his chest. And now, the hunt is truly on. I will break you. And then, I will claim your power.
He extended his spiritual sense, a sharp, probing tendril of energy, through the ravaged structure. It swept over fallen pillars, through splintered furniture, past the
