The battlefield had descended into complete chaos, a brutal clash of wills as the beasts tore into one another with a ferocity that only creatures of the Nascent Soul realm could muster. One after another, the beasts wore each other down, their spiritual energy draining as they fought tooth and nail for dominance. The air crackled with the energy of battle, the very ground trembling beneath their violent struggles.
Wen Ran, ever the opportunist, found a new hiding spot behind a thick cluster of trees. His sharp eyes never wavered from the battlefield, constantly scanning for any advantage, any weakness he could exploit. Though he cursed everything around him—his fate, the battlefield, the beasts—his mind remained razor-sharp, his focus unwavering. He tracked the most injured, the most vulnerable, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
