The echo of Liu Tong's throat-tearing roar was still bouncing off the jagged cliffs when the air around him detonated.
"DIE!"
Liu Tong didn't measure the distance. He didn't steady his footing. Violet qi surged through his thick forearms, and with both hands locked onto the iron haft, he swung his heavy war-axe in a vicious, horizontal arc meant to shear clean through the old man's neck.
SHING—
The crescent blade sliced straight across the throat of the grey-haired figure, passing through bone and flesh without meeting an ounce of resistance.
No crimson sprayed into the freezing wind.
The severed head did not tumble toward the valley below.
Instead, the old man's floating torso and severed neck simply rippled like ink disturbed across still water.
Liu Tong's boots dragged forward through the empty draft, pulled off balance by the wasted momentum of his own colossal swing. His breath hitched in his throat, his bloodshot eyes bulging in pure disbelief.
