"…Whose voice was that?" he said aloud.
WHOOSH!
He spun in a blink.
His glaive flashed, slicing the air like a blue comet, and landed directly at the throat of a figure standing behind them.
A boy.
Grinning.
Unscathed.
Wearing the tattered outer robes of Rising Dusk Academy—but he hadn't been with them.
Long Yushen's blade stopped a finger's width from his neck.
Everyone jumped to their feet.
Too late.
"Who are you?" Long Yushen hissed.
The boy tilted his head.
Smiling, and then, he opened his mouth.
And all of them wished he hadn't.
"I'm with her," the boy said cheerfully, his voice light, as if they'd just been introduced at a tea ceremony. "We're both from Rising Dusk Academy. Didn't I already mention that, Senior?"
The moment he spoke, Long Yushen's eyes flicked toward him. No smile, no words, just a sudden surge of pressure—oppressive. An icy gust rolled over the group like a collapsing sky.
