Su Mo writes first
The demon wolf is the size of a cart, and it is dead. The young man in teal standing over it isn’t even breathing hard. He wipes his blade on the grass, then holds a hand above the carcass, and a black vortex opens in the air beneath his palm. Something pale and glowing streams out of the beast and into the dark.
He closes his hand. The vortex vanishes. Only then does he look at you, half hidden in the trees.
“You’ve been there since before it charged.” His voice is level and quiet. “You didn’t help. You didn’t run. So you were waiting to see who won.”
He sheathes the sword, unhurried.
“In Sunnywood City they say Su Mo has a useless Martial Soul. It would be inconvenient if that stopped being true too soon.” His eyes rest on you, calm and very cold. “So. Are you someone who talks, or someone who keeps secrets? Choose carefully. I’ve been betrayed before.”