"Fuck..."
The moment Fang Mo stepped into the cave, the dozen or so bizarre, grotesquely shaped creatures inside froze at once, then collectively turned to look at him.
Even in the cultivation world,
these things could no longer be called human based on their appearance.
Fang Mo took a quick look at them and found that nearly all of these monsters looked especially absurd and twisted.
The figure seated upright on the stone chair at the head of the room barely maintained a human shape, but his upper body was exposed, and his skin was covered in flesh pits as deep as starless abysses.
This thing had no normal facial features to speak of. Its face contained only five vague, broken depressions. At that moment, every flesh pit across its body was tightly closed, pulsing rhythmically as though breathing. Just one glance was enough to make an ordinary person's scalp tingle. It was impossible to tell what the hell this thing even was.
And beside him,
were several strange figures writhing beneath black robes.
Fang Mo found them somewhat familiar. If he had guessed correctly, this should have been Demon Venerable Huan Xue of the Northern Demon Sect.
As for the right side of the stone chair at the head of the room, there sat a thin and gaunt old man on the verge of death. His skin sagged, and every wrinkle on his body was as withered as old tree bark.
The old thing sat quietly. Though he still looked vaguely human, he gave off an intensely uncomfortable feeling, as if something else lay beneath that human skin. If Fang Mo had to compare him to something, he resembled Zouken Matou. His aura caused a physiological sense of disgust.
And to his right,
sat a young girl who seemed