The feather in Fu Qian's hand was only as big as his fingertip, making it much smaller than the ring around the mirror.
But it clearly felt like it was the same kind of thing.
"How could this be here?"
Brother Coat was visibly startled when he saw Fu Qian pick up the feather.
"There isn't even a mirror or anything like that."
"True."
Fu Qian agreed casually, studying Brother Coat's head closely.
The left half of the man's face had been eroded by the black mist earlier and now looked as dry as tree bark.
Perhaps it was starting to itch. He raised a hand and scratched his face, leaving a tiny wound.
The next moment, a gray feather slowly but surely pushed its way out of the wound.
It didn't cling to his face. Instead, it seemed to fall as naturally as ripe fruit, and within seconds it drifted down to the ground.
At a glance, it was almost indistinguishable from the feather in Fu Qian's hand.
So that was how the ones in the mirror hall had appeared, too?
But how long would it take for that many to fall, one by one?
Besides, some of the feathers had already decayed, which meant this must have started a long time ago.
In the silence, Brother Coat finally noticed something was wrong.
The moment he looked down and saw the newly sprouted feather, he froze.
By now, Fu Qian was almost certain this underground ruin was the target of his mission.
But the mission had called it Angel Dungeon. Did shedding enough feathers eventually make someone sprout wings and turn into a birdman?
It was hard to imagine!
Fu Qian shook his head. He didn't try to talk to Brother Coat again. Instead, he clutched the feather and