The sound of Shan Kerei's footsteps echoed heavily through the mist, like the thud of a hammer striking stone. His two swords had been drawn, crossed at his sides, and his gaze glowed with a faint red, reflecting the light of the pulsating Tieh-Lan Root. Rai Yuan stood tall, his body enduring the pain from the gash on his shoulder that was beginning to feel hot. He didn't respond to Shan Kerei's taunt, only gripping his sword tighter without a word. Meanwhile, Sua, still crouching, felt Shan Kerei's steps drawing nearer. She knew their window of safety had expired since Rai was wounded. The girl opened a small pouch at her waist. Inside, it wasn't a weapon. Only some leftover kitchen supplies: dried garlic powder, red chili flakes, rock salt, and charcoal ash from old kitchen wood. She combined them quickly in her palm, mixing them with a little dew from the mossy leaves. The mixture became a coarse, pungent powder
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