A colossal Yin Yang Diagram soared into the air.
It came from all directions, rapidly expanding to blot out the sky, making it seem as if heaven and earth themselves were imprinted within its image. The Yin Yang Fish swam and spun as if alive, kicking up a furious gale that threatened to uproot and shred the Ancient Tomb.
Black and White Impermanence took their positions at the poles of yin and yang, their mourning stick and soul-locking chain poised and ready.
Bei Mingyuan held the Mystic Rhythm Sword, its tip resting on the ground.
The fierce wind whipped at his white, traditional robes, making them flutter loudly. Strands of his tousled hair fell across his forehead, lending him an air of heroic tragedy.
And yet, he was utterly composed, his gaze resolute, his expression serene. It was as if the very word "indomitable" had been coined to describe him.
"Bring it on," he said softly, uttering just two words.
