One Hundred and Eight.

As a man, that stung.

I wanted to jump out there, throw myself into the fight, prove I could handle danger just like them.

Maybe that was the testosterone talking.

I sucked in a deep breath—and instantly regretted it.

The air was suddenly freezing. Not just regular nighttime cold, but the kind that crept into your bones, making you ill.

The ground beneath us was damp, the scent of wet mud thick in the air but that too changed into something awful.

I shook my hand in front of my nose to relieve myself of this smell.

Large patches of grass swayed around us, rustling even though there was no wind.

Towering trees around us, creaking like someone is twisting them.

A sharp crack snapped through the night announcing the fight.

Ru Xian's whip lashed out like a snake, it was glowing faintly as it cut through the ghostly figures with ease.