Mist spread, laced with ominous black and red power.
As the mist filled the area, the ghosts entangling Godwyn and Zhao Si became visible.
These translucent ghosts, cold with the aura of death, withered and twisted, clung to Godwyn like clothes and a cloak plastered over his body, leaving practically nothing but his face exposed.
Countless hands clutched his muscular body and tugged at his hair.
Heads overlapped as they crowded around Godwyn's head, as though trying to squeeze their own ghostly heads inside.
Countless ghosts writhed and tangled together, extending outward without an end in sight.
What was certain was that they had all fallen into the abyss and were connected to it.
Godwyn had carried all of this with him to the foot of Helphen's Black Steeple.
Even so, he did not waver. Every step was firm.
"Do you know what these are?" Sikatiya's voice rang out again.
The Storm King stepped aside and waved a hand. "Talk directly."
"I thought I would have to fight you." Godwyn's eyes shifted toward the Storm King.
The Storm King rested the greatsword on his shoulder. "I haven't received any orders."
Godwyn looked back into the thick mist. "These ghosts weighing me down? Nothing but your tricks."
"No, you underestimate death," Sikatiya said. "These are the sins of your gold."
Godwyn froze, his pupils first dilating, then contracting.
In truth, even before Sikatiya spelled it out, he had already vaguely guessed a few things.
The Crucible King, the Giant King, and now the Storm King.
These three were representative figures, encompassing almost all of Godfrey's experiences in the Lands Between.
They represented the beginning, the glory, and the end.
And these ghosts murmured:
"Evil gold deserves to die."
"That filthy, sinful bloodline should be wiped out!"
"Yes, wiped out. Let there