He knew he could no longer escape.
Was this figure, whose sex he could not even tell, determined to take someone down in death?
As the Ritual Bell rang, Lin Feng felt his surroundings gradually darken, as though an invisible veil of gauze had shrouded the place.
Lin Feng tore away the restraints on his hair. The Net of Luo carried his hair forward, sinking deep into the palm wood like seaweed taking root. The Black Wizard's curses echoed from within the wood, and something resembling blood dripped down, sizzling as it burned a small hole in the ground.
But Lin Feng paid none of it any mind.
His hair dragged the palm wood aside and sliced apart the Evil Thought within it.
Strand by strand, his hair began shaving away its outer layer, stripping off the writing.
He listened to the Ritual Bell.
Twelve chimes.
Midnight, the time when the ritual began.
The full moon. The members of the Li Family filing in.
A hint of recollection entered Lin Feng's eyes. He remembered the absurd incidents that had taken place in the Li Family Ancestral Hall on several occasions.
An illusory path appeared before him, and as that path became real, everything else gradually turned illusory.
Lin Feng lowered his gaze, meeting every change by remaining unchanged. The wind swept past, growing steadily colder. Then he saw that the distant Li Family Ancestral Hall had somehow drawn very close.
Inside the low, damp Ancestral Hall, blue-black arms crawled up from within.
Lin Feng's hair slowly floated into the air. Countless withered corpses emerged from the hall. Unlike last time, these gaunt figures seemed to have some kind of makeup painted onto their faces.
The colors were thick and vivid, as though they were playing the roles of other people.