But in the face of absolute power, their courage seemed pathetic and laughable.
"You're courting death!"
One of Bai Nan's four Incense Masters, all at the Entering the Realm of Strength, stepped forward with a cold snort. He flicked his sleeve, and a gust of palm wind carrying the damp air swept out, forcing the surrounding mist to part on both sides.
He didn't even need to use his full strength. A few casual palm strikes, and the immense Powerful Qi sent the disciples flying backward.
They spat blood as they crashed into the withered trees behind them. The trees shuddered, and dry branches rained down. All sound from the disciples ceased. Only the CLANG of their daggers falling into the muck could be heard, splashing up flecks of black mud.
Despair was like the ice-cold sludge of a swamp, coiling up from their ankles. It was a bone-deep cold that completely submerged their hearts and minds.
The sounds of weeping had long since ceased, replaced by a deathly, numb silence.
