My Tongue-Interested in Having One?

In the thick fog, a Cross forged from thornwood was driven firmly into a crack in the stone. At the very center of the Cross, a transparent mass of gas floated silently. Within the balloon-like sphere were specks of light like fireflies. Those specks, like living creatures, gazed upward as though exploring this unknown Void Expanse.

This was the third Thorn Cross, and also where Cavis had let him witness the methods of a Ghostling.

This sphere was the Ghostling, while those specks of light were souls raised within a world constructed by its unique power. Standing before the sphere, Li Ziran felt like the Creator, quietly looking down upon those speck-like creatures as they multiplied and died within a fabricated world.

He did not approach the Cross. Without absolute certainty, he would not draw near any living creature here. He had lingered only because he wanted to experience the Ghostling's world once more.

It was wondrous, truly like the creation of a world.

Unfortunately, it was an illusion.

He quickened his pace toward the next Cross. Before long, the familiar half-barrel came into view. The Cross remained utterly motionless, as though it had been sealed for thousands of years. Iron chains stretched directly into the black Oil, tugging at Wood's half-dead body.

The moment he stopped, the chains tightened with a clatter, dragging Wood out of the black Oil. The eyeball suspended by nerves was slowly pulled back into its socket. His ** gums gradually opened, and the sole patch of dead skin twitched, releasing an old, creaking laugh. "Haha, little Witch Doctor, I knew you would come. Well? I didn't lie to you, did I?"

"I can't give you organs," Li Ziran said bluntly. "I looked into your records."

"Oh, the ones about devouring living creatures?" Wood spoke