Zhao Yin's stance remained unwavering, the pressure of his aura thick and suffocating. He could feel the presence of the three cultivators closing in from all sides, but his focus was absolute.
His eyes were sharp, his senses heightened by the constant battle he had endured. Every fiber of his being was ready for the next clash, yet he remained still, biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"Enough talk," the first Green Blade Sect cultivator growled. "You're just a wounded mouse in this trap. The only thing left for you is your death." His sword gleamed with the pure energy of the earth, the very ground beneath his feet trembling at his command.
Zhao Yin's lips curled slightly, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "If you think I'm going down so easily, you're gravely mistaken."