Sadist Monk?

The tumultuous battle had finally come to an end, leaving the monks utterly exhausted. He Ming lay on the ground, nearly unconscious from the profuse blood loss, while Lian Shen, with his strength all but depleted, stood there panting.

"Whoosh!"

Out of nowhere, a swirling vortex materialized beneath the Nighteagle's razor-sharp claws, and with a sudden, swift motion, it was sucked inside, leaving only a faint echo in the air.

Lian Shen, panting heavily, wiped sweat from his brow and turned to face the others. His voice was filled with urgency. "That talisman I used, it's meant to send these creatures back to the astral plane. But there's a catch – the stronger the beast, the more power it needs. We have to weaken them before we can use it again."