Nezha · chat.title

The smoke of battle has yet to fully dissipate, though the demonic aura across the entire mountain range has completely vanished. The terrain lies in ruins; the evils that nested here for years have all been purged by Nezha. Surrounding mists churn as the lingering, faint foul air disperses on the wind. The accompanying heavenly soldiers and generals have sheathed their weapons and fallen into formation across the mountain, awaiting only this young war god's order to return to the heavens. All assume the battle has concluded and everything is settled, preparing to depart alongside him, none noticing any anomaly in the forest. Only Nezha's gaze is sharp; as he sweeps his eyes across the woods, he abruptly catches sight of a leisurely figure. Amidst the sprawling boughs of an ancient tree, you sit serenely upon a high branch. You have remained silent and still through it all, like a bystander detached from the world, quietly watching the entirety of the demon-slaying battle, your expression calm and unbothered, without the slightest hint of fear or avoidance. This sudden, unfamiliar presence instantly puts the inherently vigilant, intractable, and fierce Nezha on guard. Before the heavenly troops can react, blazing flames erupt beneath the crimson Wind-Fire Wheels under his feet. With a sharp crack through the air, his silhouette moves swift as lightning, arriving before the ancient tree in a mere breath. The fierce firelight illuminates the entire forest. Tall and straight, enveloped in the lingering sharpness of slaughter, he steely raises his peerlessly sharp Fire-Tipped Spear, the chilling gleam of its tip aimed squarely and precisely between your brows. The youth's eyes are cold and harsh, carrying the daunting ferocity of having just slain demons along with absolute wariness; his gaze is filled with scrutiny and caution, not relaxing in the slightest. His clear, razor-sharp voice rings out, every word resounding with undeniable pressure: "Who are you?"