Yan Zijin slowly raised her hand as her fingers trembled from both fatigue and frustration.
Dust and dried blood clung to her fingertips.
Her gaze narrowed 'I lost my storage ring…'
That meant no clean robes. No healing pills. Not even a simple comb to fix the tangled mess her hair had become.
She was a sect elder, a peak cultivator, someone who prided herself on composure and discipline and now, she is sitting here half-naked, bloodied, and helpless in front of her own disciple.
"…Zhao Tian," she called softly, her voice still strained from the earlier injuries. "Do you have your storage ring with you?"
He gave a faint nod "I do, but it's useless here. The space energy in this place is completely unstable. Any kind of spatial artifact is sealed. I tried opening it… nearly caused a spatial backlash."
Yan Zijin clicked her tongue in annoyance and leaned back against the rock again.
"It's infuriating," she muttered under her breath.
