Back in the Trial!
"Tick-tock, warrior," the shadow sneered, its voice colder than a winter night on Frost Peak. "Make your choice—or let them all die."
Su Xiaobai's grip tightened on the dagger, his lips pressing into a thin line. A whisper escaped him, soft but sharp: "This isn't right…"
Cultivation was freedom. The path of rebellion. A giant middle finger to the heavens, the earth, and anything else that thought it could control you. Rules? Restrictions? That was for mortals who didn't know how to dream big.
And yet here he was, caught in a formation that demanded he play executioner. It was wrong—so wrong it made his skin crawl.
The shadow let out a low, mocking laugh, its voice echoing like the bastard child of thunder and mockery. "Right? Wrong? Don't kid yourself. The path of cultivation isn't built on sunshine and daisy fields—it's built on blood. On sacrifice. If you don't have the guts to make the hard choices, you're nothing but a weakling waiting to die."
