Playing dead
Ji Yao was especially ruthless with that whip sword cracking with an intent to kill or at least cause grievous harm. Ten strikes later the force of the flaming sparks reduced as sweat dripped down Ji Yao's body.
This task was incredibly tiring that he could barely hold on anymore, especially after his aether had just recovered from the stab. With his back slouched he glared at Qilin Hao who dispelled the last of the sparks.
The bright sky suddenly darkened as though someone had turned off the lights. Even the half crescent moon was obscured by the cloud of dust making it hard to see.
She was also panting her face flushed with a small drop of blood flowing down her cheek from the cut earlier.