Meanwhile, slaughter was underway in several other great halls within the ruins.
But no one noticed.
The blood of those who died seeped into the cracks between the floor tiles, as though something were drawing it away.
Unnoticed, the corpses slowly withered. Their flesh vanished bit by bit, until only a thin layer of skin remained wrapped around their bones.
Even their souls silently dissipated into the air and sank underground.
Beneath the floors of those great halls, dark-red veins like blood vessels carried that flesh and those souls toward the deepest part of the ruins.
It was a sealed space with no entrance of any kind, its four walls formed of rough stone.
At the center of the space floated an enormous mass of flesh.
The mass stood a full three zhang tall, its surface densely covered in blood vessels and sinews.
Within it, a dark-red light flickered brightly and dimly, like the beating of a gigantic heart.
With every beat, the air in the space shuddered.
With every shudder, the flesh and souls delivered from beneath the great halls were absorbed a little more.
Gradually, the dark-red glow grew brighter and brighter, while the beating quickened.
"Crack."
A fissure split open across the surface of the flesh mass.
The fissure widened, and a hand stretched out from within.
The hand was slender and fair, its fingers long, its nails rounded like shells—a jarring contrast to the grotesque exterior of the flesh mass.
A woman's figure stepped out through the crack.
Her jet-black hair clung wetly to her body. Her features were fairly delicate, though her chest was flat.
She was the sort who, thrown into a crowd, would never earn a second glance.
Lowering her head, she looked at her hands, spreading and closing her fingers as if