CHAPTER 95 — THE WEIGHT OF THE GROUND
The battlefield did not pause for grief.
Fang Zhao was gone.Two Vermillion fighters were gone.
And the arena had learned a new truth—elimination did not arrive with ceremony. It arrived when someone decided you were in the way.
Chen Wulian wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed.
"Man," he said, shoulders rolling, "this really is the good stuff."
Across from him, the terrain shifted.
The shallow water basin he had been skirting hardened, liquid retreating into fissures as the ground darkened, compacted, and thickened. Stone veins surfaced like bones pushing through skin.
Chen's grin widened.
"Oho?"
A figure stepped forward from the distorted terrain.
Yue Hanran.
