Beneath the White Bone Mask, Chen Yan's gaze stayed fixed on the only slender figure left in the warehouse.
The other person didn't flee or attack in a hysterical frenzy. It was as if the sudden deaths of three companions were merely the end of a play that had nothing to do with them.
The slender figure in black slowly raised both hands and began chanting a series of obscure, distorted syllables.
It wasn't East Continent speech, nor any language Chen Yan knew. Every syllable had a grating quality that set his teeth on edge.
As the chant continued, the ritual array, dimly visible on the floor, suddenly lit up. Countless bizarre runes swirled, releasing a dark red glow.
"Hm?" A strange feeling stirred in Chen Yan's chest.
The next moment, a sight that even he found nauseating unfolded before him.
The three bodies that had just died—whether the burly man whose chest had been pierced by a fist, the werewolf whose spine had been kicked in, or the Onmyoji whose heart had been pierced by an air arrow—began to dissolve rapidly in the array's light.
Bones, muscles, organs.
Everything melted into primordial blood, gurgling toward the center of the array and pooling into a growing, viscous puddle, dark red and nearly black.
"Sacrifice your teammates to the heavens, and your magic power knows no bounds?"
Chen Yan made a cold quip to himself.
Above the pool of blood, the enormous Snake Spirit phantom that had been fighting the Invisible Needle suddenly let out a silent roar.
It lowered its head, opened its great jaws, and greedily sucked up the pool of blood.
It gulped down the energy, and its already enormous body began to swell rapidly, growing more solid by the moment.
Its illusory light faded, replaced by a