Those words carried a soul-seizing power. One could even say this:
Uncanny was speaking.
Anyone who heard those sounds would be hated by Uncanny.
They would be coated in Red Mud.
And suffocated alive.
Lin Feng formed a hand seal, but stopped the instant he finished.
The strange muttering had been utterly shattered by the sound of marching feet.
That pitiful Uncanny language was smashed to pieces by those perfectly synchronized footsteps!
Someone was singing, too, though not in the modern sense. It was more like the poetry of the Book of Songs, "roared" aloud, containing an extremely strange power.
Lin Feng heard it clearly. He could not understand the lyrics, but he could hear the "domineering force" and "Joy" in those songs. Where was the game? Where was the translation? Translate it for me!
No one translated for Lin Feng.
It sounded as though a vast army were marching through this remote backwater: stallions whinnying, chains rattling, and sounds every bit as terrifying as hell itself—the cries of human burial sacrifices.
Those despairing wails.
Hearing those footsteps, Lin Feng involuntarily broke out in goose bumps.
It was a warning of danger.
His first reaction was: Yin Soldiers had descended!
[Unyielding] did not react, which meant it was not a mental attack.
[Sword Heart Clarity] left him feeling somewhat suffocated, meaning it had flagged a danger to him—a danger lethal enough to kill him.
Just as he was about to use the Dharma Seal and force a desperate confrontation, Sangou beside him flung himself onto the ground. Without hesitation, he smeared the red mud all over his head, face, and body, leaving no gaps. He was nothing like the vacant, witless boy he had been earlier.
Here, he was the "normal person."
Seeing Lin Feng looking at him, he jabbed