The air around them suddenly became suffocating.
The mist scattered through the air no longer drifted freely. It hung suspended, as though clenched tightly in someone's fist.
Yang Xiao slowly tightened his grip on the Army-Breaking Spear. Noticing that the villagers behind him were all crowding around the doorway to watch, he turned and called out.
"Get inside."
The villagers clustered at the hall entrance froze.
The old man moved first, grabbing two people beside him and shoving them inside. "Hurry! Get to the back!"
"The lord is about to fight! What are you meddling for?"
The crowd squeezed into the main hall and huddled behind the doors. Someone reached to shut the temple doors, but the old man caught their wrist.
"What would shutting them accomplish?" His voice was low, carrying a note of resolve. "With a commotion like this, there's nowhere to hide. We might as well leave them open and watch how our lord fights."
"If our lord falls... then we'll go to our deaths together."
All the villagers fell silent.
A woman pressed her palms together against her forehead, murmuring prayers. But the one she prayed to was no longer the river god.
In the courtyard.
The man in green robes raised his hand. A surge of Demon Power emanated from his palm, drawing on the moisture around him.
The droplets suspended in midair suddenly came under his control. Layer upon layer spread across the courtyard overhead, forming a sky-swallowing curtain of rain.
A point emerged from each droplet, stretching it into a needle over an inch long. Countless needle tips aimed at Yang Xiao in the clearing, gleaming with a dangerous chill beneath the moonlight.
A moment later, the rain came crashing down like a waterfall!
Just then, Yang Xiao slowly closed his eyes beneath