Ye Lin's gaze continued to move.
Then, he saw them.
The ruins were surrounded by densely packed figures.
No, they were not standing.
They were floating.
They were hanging.
They were frozen in place.
Those figures crowded every corner of the ruins.
They were on the pillars, on the chains, on the broken walls of the palace, on the fractured faces of the steps—even between the ribs of that skeleton, they were everywhere.
The Chaos Ancient Clan.
Ye Lin recognized them at a glance.
However, these Chaos Ancient Clan members were somewhat strange.
Their bodies had no fixed form, like clouds of mist compressed to the extreme. Within the mist, the outlines of certain organs could vaguely be seen.
Perhaps eyes, perhaps mouths, perhaps some sensory organs beyond human comprehension.
Their colors varied.
Some were black as ink, so black that even light could not linger upon them.
Some were ghastly white as bone, so white they were translucent, revealing some kind of fluid slowly flowing within.
Some were crimson as blood, red like blood freshly spilled from a wound, still faintly throbbing.
Some were golden as the sun, dazzlingly gold, as though an unquenchable sun burned within them.
Their sizes varied as well.
The small ones were only as large as fists, like drifting tufts of cotton, silently weaving through the mist.
The large ones were like mountains, their bodies stretched between two massive pillars like sleeping giant pythons, or monstrous birds whose spread wings could blot out the sky.
Their forms were even more bizarre and varied.
Ye Lin saw a figure resembling a spider, but it had not eight legs—rather, countless legs extended densely from its body, and at the end of every leg grew an eye. The eyes blinked incessantly, looking in different directions.
He saw