Evening fell.
The group set up camp in the stone house area.
The five dilapidated stone houses barely sheltered them from the wind, but the nights on the Icefield were bitterly cold.
The wounded crowded into the largest stone house and lit a bonfire. The flames flickered amid the crumbling walls, stretching everyone's shadows long and twisted.
Liao Yang was no longer tied up.
After arriving at Rakshasa Lake, he had been allowed to move freely.
But he did not take the opportunity to run, nor did he dare entertain the thought. He obediently stood watch with Jin Shanba.
Ever since yesterday, his mind had been filled with those Blue Eyes and that streak of Gray Light. The terror of something crawling directly out of your memories, reading your thoughts, even making you "forget" how to move and speak.
That helpless feeling of having his entire body, inside and out, controlled.
It was scarier than fucking ghosts!
He had seen plenty of supernatural phenomena.
He had been chased by ghosts.
He had been plagued by curses.
But never had any existence made him feel this way.
It was as though all the experience he had accumulated throughout his life, all his knowledge, all the methods he had been so proud of, had become a complete joke before that thing.
So although he had calmed down on the surface, the turmoil in his heart had not subsided.
Jiang Qiao, on the other hand, slept soundly. Leaning against a corner, he snored away, seemingly unconcerned by the people around him, each harboring their own thoughts.
To him, these people could hardly be considered a threat.
Not because they were good people, but because even if everyone attacked him at once, it would be useless.
That was why he could sleep so peacefully.