Elsewhere.
Far from that tense exchange, Mu Xianling and the others continued running, their bodies pushed far beyond their limits, until finally—after several miles of desperate escape—they could no longer endure it.
They slowed.
Then stopped.
Leaning heavily against the trunk of a large tree, their bodies trembling from exhaustion as they struggled to catch their breath, each inhale sharp and uneven, their chests rising and falling rapidly in the quiet of the night.
Sweat clung to their skin, their clothes damp and disheveled, strands of hair sticking to flushed cheeks, their entire figures carrying the aftermath of a desperate flight that had nearly cost them everything.
For a long moment...
None of them spoke.
Only the sound of breathing filled the air.
Gradually, they began to recover, though the fatigue remained deep, their limbs heavy and unresponsive, their strength nearly drained to nothing.
Even as martial artists—
They had reached their limit.
