The paper artisan suddenly froze.
The Paper Doll slipped from his hand and burst into flames before it hit the ground, turning to ash in the blink of an eye.
He lowered his head and glanced at his chest. Somehow, a pitch-black Shadow Blade had appeared there, piercing straight through from his back.
Yet not a single drop of blood flowed from the wound.
A faint gray-black mist wreathed the edges of the Shadow Blade.
It was this layer of killing intent that swiftly blackened the flesh around the wound, corroding even his blood into nothing.
"This is..."
The paper artisan's mouth fell open. He tried to turn and see who had struck, but the Shadow Blade twisted violently inside his chest, shredding his last shred of life.
His eyes remained open even in death, a trace of unwillingness lingering deep in his pupils.
"Old Zhang!"
The Mourning Crone shrieked and smashed the white paper lantern in her hand against the ground.
Green light exploded. The faces on the lantern's shade shrieked in unison, their cries becoming rippling waves that spread in every direction.
This was her last-resort technique, Soul-Locking Curse Burst.
The resentment accumulated in the lantern over more than a decade erupted all at once, enough to shake the souls of anyone living within a hundred feet.
As the sound waves spread, she turned and fled.
Her obese body erupted with astonishing speed as she plunged into a patch of waist-high grass.
But she only managed three steps.
Two more Shadow Blades silently emerged from the shadows in the grass. One severed her legs, while the other pierced her throat from the back of her neck.
No blood sprayed.
The killing intent sealed her blood vessels the instant the blades sliced through her flesh. Only a layer of