Rouge Cultivators
When the chaos dwindled sufficiently for ordinary senses to process once more, three haggard silhouettes floated silently amid the shattered landscape, hundreds of meters separating them and Lin Xiang's implacable smaller frame.
Each of their expressions reflected absolute, unbridled insanity, the kind of eager frothing lunacy that could only manifest in those who had utterly and irrevocably abandoned all reason and restraint.
The trio radiated power of an utterly depraved magnitude.
One seemed to literally fester outwards with dripping, virulent waves of nauseating purple miasmic poison, its very presence enough to liquefy even the most tenaciously forged of alloys within heartbeats of exposure.