"LIN FENG —" she cried out. The name tore from her throat — involuntary, desperate, the cry of a woman in distress calling for the man she loved.
Lin Feng — in the corridor, blood on his chin, his body broken — heard her. His dark eyes blazed. His Core Formation qi surged — the golden core spinning, the energy building. He tried to rise. His legs buckled. He fell.
"MASTER —" he screamed — not to the hall, not to the elders, not to anyone visible. To the ring. To the spirit inside the ring. "MASTER — GIVE ME THE POWER — GIVE ME — I NEED TO KILL HIM — MASTER —"
In the ring, the spirit's voice — female, low, ancient — responded. Not with power. With words.
"Fool. Do not engage. His power is — it is beyond —"
"I DON'T CARE — GIVE ME —"
"I cannot. Not against this. This is not an opponent you can defeat. This is —"
"SHUT UP — GIVE ME —"
"I said I cannot —"
