It was not just Illusion. Time's gaze was also sweeping behind that man—or, more precisely, examining his shadow.
Of the two lords of Central Blood City, one had discarded his own shadow. That abandoned shadow had become an incomplete faith in this world, wielding the power of curses. At full strength, it could rival the Unknowables. Yet even such a terrifying Calamity God could not return, because another Calamity God had already occupied the shadow of Central Blood City's lord.
While the Blood City Lords hesitated, Xu Yin had already stepped out of the void. Like he had one afternoon many years ago, when he carried the songs he had recorded to meet the person he loved most, he slowly but firmly raised his hand, shattered the dream's rules, and caught that dazzling, beautiful butterfly.
His original body had sunk into the Blood Sea and was being steadily weakened, his shrines had all been occupied, and his will had been repeatedly tormented in the Delirium World until he went mad. The butterfly beat his wings, but could no longer stir up a storm of order and rules.
His red garment was like blood, his obsession transformed into unique divine patterns engraved upon his body. Xu Yin came before Gao Ming.
Looking at that utterly rotten, appallingly mutilated body, he seemed to remember something.
"Does it hurt?"
Every wound was an answer. The Blood City Lord's heart, on the verge of collapse, recounted everything Gao Ming had done.
Once the Calamity Gods of Central Blood City began fighting, they easily lost their reason and would not stop until one side was dead. To many evil ghosts in the Deep World, Hanhai's Dream Ghosts were sinister and cunning, skilled in all manner of bizarre methods, and almost never allowed themselves to lose