The inky night gradually faded, and a faint crack of light split open in the east as the sky slowly brightened. The clouds were first stained pale blue, then turned fish-belly white. When the sun revealed its first golden edge, its rays flashed like swords, illuminating heaven and earth.
The forest remained dim, filled with lingering mist that drifted like gauze and wound between the massive trees. As time passed, light and shadow flowed and intertwined through the woods.
Amon removed his night-vision goggles and boldly approached a Giant Python more than twenty meters long. After seeing last night's terrifying giant serpent, a python like this actually seemed small and adorable.
Its body was covered in yellow-and-black scales, with black feathers growing from it in a chaotic mess. A filthy pale-red liquid seeped from the roots of those feathers.
The Giant Python rubbed its body against the rocks, scraping off the feathers one by one. Even though it left itself drenched in blood, it never stopped. It was clear that these filthy feathers caused it immense pain.
Spirit Word: Ghost displayed a power in Amon's hands that it should never have possessed.
Normally, even if one's bloodline was stronger than the other party's, unless the gap was utterly overwhelming, it was impossible to stand right in front of someone without being noticed.
It merely reduced one's sense of presence; it did not erase one's existence completely!
Yet Amon stood less than half a meter in front of its head, and the Giant Python continued with its business as though it could not see him.
It only stopped moving when Amon drew his pistol and aimed it at its head.
It had already sensed danger, but neither sight, hearing, nor smell could tell it where the threat was coming from. That