Mark of the Devil

Ren Ling's heart raced as he dashed across the rooftops, his footsteps silent and swift. The moon bathed the ancient city in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows that danced along the tiled surfaces. His pursuers were relentless, their presence a haunting presence behind him.

Cultivators from the Sun Ocean Palace Sect, their flowing robes billowing in the wind, were gaining on him with every stride. Their eyes glinted with determination as they closed in, their swords humming in anticipation. The assassins from the Emperor, clad in black garb, moved like shadows, their deadly daggers glinting under the pale moonlight.

Weeks of constant fighting had drained Ren Ling's energy, leaving his limbs heavy and his breathing labored. The ambush by the Fearless Gang Sect had taken its toll, and now, his weary body longed for respite. But there was no time for rest, only survival.