Deep in a rarely visited grove, an eerie red glow spread.
Xie Ping’an hovered in the air, his neck broken, and thrust both arms toward the ground with a furious roar: "Zhao Xiaoxiang! I'll kill you!!"
Zhao Xiaoxiang held a wolf fang between his palms, muttering one string of words after another.
Wang Rongyu watched from the side, trembling. Xie Ping’an's face grew increasingly hideous, pus seeped from his body, and his nails turned black and lengthened.
He couldn't help asking, "Didn't you say you were going to help him pass on? Why is he getting scarier? He doesn't look remotely at peace."
Zhao Xiaoxiang raised his eyes toward them, but he wasn't looking at Wang Rongyu. Beside him, Han San turned as though he had received a signal.
Someone suddenly twisted both of Wang Rongyu's arms behind his back. "Fuck, Han San, what are you doing?!"
Zhao Xiaoxiang walked over. His chanting stopped, and he clearly pronounced, "Blood of the living, bind your soul."
As he spoke, he drew a dagger from behind his back, his pupils slowly dilating with excitement. "Suffer humiliation and torment, never to escape for all eternity-!"
"Aaaaah-" However stupid Wang Rongyu might have been, even he could now tell that this wasn't a rite to help Xie Ping’an pass on. They were going to use his blood to curse him!
As the gleaming blade came toward him, Wang Rongyu struggled violently, but Han San held him fast.
What should I do? Am I really going to die here today?
He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to watch his own blood splatter before him.
Yet several long seconds passed, and the pain he had imagined never came.
A powerful gust swept past, followed by the clatter of metal hitting the ground.
Zhao Xiaoxiang cried out