The Onmyoji behind him also began waving their Mourning Staffs, strange incantations spilling from their mouths.
It was late at night, but Li Yichen found himself unable to sleep. He kept feeling as though something was missing.
Suddenly, he rolled over and sat up. "Where's Zheng Liang? I don't think I've seen him since we got out of the vehicle."
"Yichen, what's wrong?" Hao Jun and Wang Meng woke the moment Li Yichen stirred. As members of the Special Forces, they remained vigilant at all times.
"Have either of you seen Zheng Liang?" Li Yichen frowned.
Hao Jun and Wang Meng exchanged glances and shook their heads. "He seemed to disappear after we got out. We thought he'd gone to the bathroom, so we didn't give it much thought."
Just then, Li Yichen sensed something amiss. The smell of blood began spreading through the camp.
"Not good!" Startled, Li Yichen sprang to his feet, lifted the tent flap, and stepped outside.
Hao Jun and Wang Meng exchanged glances and followed him out.
They looked up at the sky and sucked in sharp breaths.
The once-bright moon had turned blood-red, and the markings on its surface looked unmistakably like a ghost's face.
"Look! What's that?" Wang Meng suddenly shouted, pointing into the distance.
"Huh?" Li Yichen hurriedly looked where he was pointing. Beneath the blood-red moonlight, a sky full of crimson butterflies was flying toward them.
Li Yichen watched the rapidly approaching butterflies warily and said in a low voice, "There's something wrong with those butterflies. Don't let them touch you."
"Got it." Hao Jun and Wang Meng stood back-to-back, their faces guarded.
Hao Jun swept a hand across his waist. White light flashed, and a small dagger appeared in his grip.
Wang Meng, meanwhile, pulled a pair of gleaming gauntlets