An Underwater Temple

Luo Yan had a dream.

Ever since he'd accumulated enough strength for his Spiritual Sense to hear Karma, he'd rarely dreamed. Whenever he fell into a dream, it meant something was about to happen.

This dream seemed a little different.

There was no heartbroken victim, no angry scolding, no blood-soaked death. There was only a stretch of water so deep its bottom couldn't be seen.

He was underwater, lying on his back with his body sunk into the muck, unable to move.

He gazed up at the surface. It was filthy, with layer upon layer of something like melted oil floating on it, sticky and suffocating. It shrouded the entire riverbed in a lightless, gloomy cage.

A chill enveloped his body. He tried to sit up, only to realize that the silt had somehow covered him, as if it meant to bury him alive.

His field of vision grew narrower and narrower.

His breathing was blocked, too.

He couldn't help opening his mouth, trying to cry out, but his tongue was already gone. All he could manage was a hoarse "khh, khh."

"Khh, khh..."

That wasn't him. That wasn't his voice.

At last, Luo Yan's attention shifted from the surface. He struggled to lift his gaze and look around.

The dream's point of view began to change, rising just as he wished.

His view shifted from looking up to looking down, revealing a vast stretch of riverbed.

There were so many people.

So many—"people"—embedded in the mud like nails. Their bodies were buried beneath the silt, with only their faces exposed.

Most were old, followed by women, then the occasional adult man, and finally children.

Every face... every face was twisted with anger and fear. Their mouths gaped and their eyes stared as they silently screamed up at the surface.