Pale Moon's Purpose, Part II

Wu Jian held Pale Moon with a steady grip, poised and centered. The ethereal sword, glistening like a sharp of night, hummed in resonance with his chi. He narrowed his eyes and, in a deliberate motion, raised Pale Moon above his head, its blade catching the light in a gleam of silvery frost.

The world around him seemed frozen in time.

Then he swung.

Wu Jian released a cry that resonated with the very essence of his being as he cleaved the blade downward in a graceful arc. The motion was flawless, a perfect blend of strength and control, speed and precision. The air itself shivered as the blade cut through space. A single line was born from his cut. It didn’t look like much at first, but then, as if to disprove this first thought, reality itself was torn asunder and a rift opened up, traveling along the cut’s path--straight toward Huǒ Pànguó.