The Marrow Eaters inside the corpse mountain had completely packed up all the souls and flesh sacs, filling thirty carts to the brim.
Their faces carried a trace of relief.
The hardest part was already done. The plan was seventy percent complete. All that remained was to bring these souls back to their homeland intact.
The leading Marrow Eater warriors rushed to the entrance and slaughtered the newly surging evil spirits, clearing a path.
The team behind them hauled the carts and charged out along the passage.
Two wizards sat in each cart. Strands of black mist seeped from their bodies, turning into faint threads that continuously flowed into the black jars before them, circling their openings.
They formed a black protective film.
The film was constantly being battered, rising and falling as though something terrifying beneath it was trying to break free.
After all, every jar contained tens of thousands of souls.
It was practically the equivalent of cramming tens of thousands of humans into such a tiny space. The mental force produced was incredibly violent.
Especially now that they had lost their physical bodies.
Each mind was like that of a lunatic. They felt no pain and had lost nearly ninety percent of their reason, leaving behind only instinct.
And one of humanity's instincts was to break free from restraints and gain freedom.
That was why the wizards had to continuously reinforce the seals on these jars. Otherwise, given the jars' own properties, they would not last long at all.
This also reduced the entire team's strength by roughly a quarter.
For the Marrow Eaters, who had been fighting nonstop and were already nearly exhausted, this was a tremendous trial.
Everyone was drawing upon the last of their strength.
They were only one final step away from success.