"Your Majesty!"
"Your Majesty, there's a ghost!"
"The evil dragon has come again, Your Majesty..."
It was currently night. Moonlight from the sky spilled across the land, leaving the world not completely pitch-black.
A figure somewhere between illusory and real drifted in the air.
That figure was a creature with a human-like silhouette, but...
It had no head!
It carried its head in its hand.
Crimson blood continuously flowed out from the severed wound.
As it moved, a large pool of crimson trace would eerily appear on the ground.
The head in its palm was quite peculiar, differing from a human skull. Two dragon horns stood erect toward the sky on its forehead.
"Tang Emperor!
Return my life!
Return my life!
You promised with every word to save me, so why did you later turn around and order the human executioner to behead me?
Come out, come out!
..."
The head it held in its hand wailed with heart-wrenching, miserable grief.
This voice was extremely startling and terrifying.
Heard in the ears of ordinary mortals, it would produce all sorts of hallucinations, awakening the scenarios they feared most in their hearts.
At the same time, gloomy winds blew in gusts across the world, and green ghost fires drifted about.
The imperial palace was in utter chaos; court ladies, eunuchs, and guards were in a complete panic.
It wasn't that their composure was too poor, but rather that this exceeded the scope of their abilities.
Wang Ming, sitting cross-legged on the dragon bed, abruptly opened his eyes, a strange, sharp glint flashing through his pupils.
Jing River Dragon King? Didn't I already cooperate with Buddhism to put on an act!
Wang Ming was extremely puzzled by this matter. After all, according to the Journey to the West plot in his memories,