At the same time, eerie sounds of chewing emerged beside his ears, an indescribable sticky wetness began to surge upward incessantly.
"Raise your head."
Said a benevolent voice.
"Raise your head, child." A gentle voice also echoed.
In that instant, a slight tremor appeared on Chen Yuan's expression, and then he slowly stood up from the ground, opening his eyes.
The next moment.
An indescribably eerie scene unfolded before his eyes like a painting.
It was a pool of crimson sticky blood, and amidst the flowing blood, it seemed alive, with every drop faintly bearing facial features—twisted and malicious, indescribable.
With a strong and terrifying impact on the Heart and Spirit, ordinary people who laid eyes upon any of those faces would instantly descend into madness and frenzy.
As the perspective extended upward, it would seem these so-called ghostly faces, blood pool, were merely a layer of gauze, a veil donned by 'someone'.
