A spear grazed his leg, its qi-infused tip drawing blood and disrupting his balance. Kael stumbled, pain flaring, but he caught himself, rolling to avoid a hammer that slammed into his side, the impact rattling his meridians.
More attackers closed in—three, five, ten—their auras a chaotic storm of conflicting Daos, their eyes wild with hunger.
Kael raised his free hand, channeling the Silver Lotus Flame through his dantian, its energy flaring in a radiant ring that exploded outward. Bodies flew, their qi scattering, groans echoing across the plain.
"Stop him!" a cultivator yelled, his voice cracking with desperation. "He's weakening! We can take him!"
They couldn't, not truly, but their numbers and relentless greed made them dangerous. Kael's breath grew ragged, his vision blurring at the edges, his qi reserves teetering on the brink of collapse.
