“Daoyan!“
Yan Yu’s voice tore through the air as she watched the massive green beam engulf Yan Qi, her eyes wide with horror.
But before she could react, Yan Qi burst out of the light and crashed onto the ground below.
Relief flashed across Yan Yu’s face—until she noticed Yan Qi’s condition. Something was very wrong.
“Daoyan, hold on! I’m coming to help!”
Hearing her sister’s shout, Yan Qi—now dizzy and feverish, as if struck by a severe illness—forced herself to respond.
“Yan Yu, stay back! Keep your distance!” she rasped. “This abyssal beast’s power is unnatural. Anyone hit by that green light falls deathly sick, even if they were fine before.”
Yan Yu hesitated, her grip tightening on her Bloodthirst Sword. “But you—”
Panting, her face flushed with fever, Yan Qi cut in bluntly. “I know I’m in bad shape. But if you charge in now, I’ll just slow you down. If that beam hits you too, we’re both dead today.”
A smug chuckle echoed from above.
“She’s right,” called Wen Ning, standing atop the Plague Beast. “If you foolishly try to save her, it’ll only take one slip before my beast’s plague ray cripples you both. Then? Well… let’s just say your corpses will make fine fertilizer for our Fleshblooms. Or—you could flee now and let her die alone.”
Yan Yu’s knuckles whitened around her sword. “Damn it. Daoyan, is there any way to purge this affliction?”
Struggling to focus—her vision now swimming with double images—Yan Qi shook her head weakly. Then, with deliberate slowness, she flashed Yan Yu a subtle hand signal.
“…No easy fix,” she muttered, voice strained. “Our only chance is to kill that bishop and his three-star abyssal beast.”
Yan Yu’s eyes flickered in recognition. So that’s the plan.
“But in your state,” she pressed aloud, playing along, “can we even take them?”
Yan Qi coughed. “Doesn’t matter. It’s our only way out.”
“Then I’ll lead the attack. You support from the rear—got it?“
Without waiting for an answer, Yan Yu lunged forward like a fired arrow, aiming straight for Wen Ning.
As her sister shot ahead, Yan Qi began channeling her energy, launching disruptive strikes to harass Wen Ning and the Plague Beast.
Meanwhile…
Hidden from view, she quietly dispelled a distant doppelgänger she’d left at home, converting it back into a transformation card.
This fight’s unwinnable without her.
…..
Wen Ning, of course, wasn’t idle.
As Yan Yu closed in, the Plague Beast shuddered under his command—then erupted.
Thick green mist, swirling with pathogens, gushed from its pores, forming a dense protective barrier around itself and its master.
Yan Yu skidded to a halt. No defensive abilities? No way through. She retreated instantly.
From a safe distance, she sneered, buying time:
“Pathetic. Hiding like a turtle now?”
Wen Ning smirked. “And if I am? What’ll you do—bleed on me?“
“You—! Fine. Try this!“
Feigning rage, Yan Yu slashed her sword repeatedly. Crimson arcs sliced through the mist—only for the Plague Beast’s tentacles to intercept them. Severed limbs flopped to the ground, but the beast barely flinched.
“Amateurish,” Wen Ning yawned. “Kill her.“
The beast obliged. Tentacles lashed. Mist surged. Another green beam charged—
Yan Yu moved, zigzagging like a hare evading hounds. Every dodge bought precious seconds for Yan Qi’s preparations.
Wen Ning watched her frantic dance, grinning. “Still think you stand a chance?”
Yan Yu flipped her hair—then shot him the flattest look imaginable.
“You? Tough? Pfft. Where?”