Yang Yong looked up.
On the Sacrificial Altar, the demon-head design had been soaked through with blood and was now glowing faintly.
So that was it.
The power those savages borrowed came through that Sacrificial Altar.
Human blood was what activated it.
Yang Yong swept his gaze over the Sacrificial Altar-
Two women were bound there.
One was being bled, blood still dripping steadily from all ten fingers.
Her face was as pale as paper, and her lips had turned grayish-white.
She was barely alive, clearly having been tortured for a long time.
That was Xiao Li's younger sister.
And the other-
"Fuck..."
Only then did Yang Yong notice the other woman.
Her body was nothing but a head attached to a skeleton, riddled with countless Blood Holes, every one deep enough to expose bone.
Apart from her head, almost none of her skin remained intact.
And that flesh...
Yang Yong looked up again, toward the Savage Priests in their bizarre outfits on the raised platform.
Even with a fierce battle raging below, they kept gnawing on things in their hands.
What they were eating needed no explanation.
Yang Yong's gaze fell on that head-
His pupils contracted sharply.
He knew that face well.
Zhuo Fujiao.
The former yoga instructor who had always showered him with attention.
Her eyes were wide open, dried blood staining their corners and the corners of her mouth, her expression frozen in utter terror.
Clearly, she had suffered immense pain before dying.
Yang Yong clenched his fists.
He had long known that people could die at any moment in the apocalypse.
But he had never imagined Zhuo Fujiao would meet her end like this.
He was not heartless.
After all the time Zhuo Fujiao had spent showering him with attention, he had been moved, at