Once Zhao Xun was certain, he took the ball of yarn from inside his clothes.
He tied one end of the yarn to the handle of a dagger, then controlled the dagger to wind the yarn around the monster.
The instant the yarn touched the monster, it was as though an Immobilization Spell had been cast on him. He tried to twist free, but his struggles were futile.
He could not even raise his arms to tear away the strands winding around him.
Only his eyes could move, darting about, filled with viciousness.
There was only viciousness, not fear.
Zhao Xun pulled at the ball of yarn in his hand until he had unwound all of it, wrapping every last strand around the monster and turning him into a mummy.
The yarn gradually melted against the monster's body and seeped inside him, while the monster let out uncontrollable howls of pain.
The longer Zhao Xun listened, the more human those cries sounded. There was nothing monstrous about them.
Zhao Xun's brow furrowed slightly. As the melted yarn disappeared completely into the monster's body, the monster seemed to lose all his strength and collapsed heavily to the ground.
As his head struck the floor, the bull's head came off his body with a sharp crack.
But his head had not been severed. Instead, the bull's head fell away like a mask, revealing a handsome young face beneath.
Zhao Xun frowned slightly. "Who are you?"
According to the mythology he knew, the Minotaur was a monster with a bull's head and a human body, not a human wearing a bull-head mask.
This man was not the Minotaur.
The man was still breathing. With some effort, he lifted his head to look at Zhao Xun.
His mouth opened and closed several times before