Before she could process what happened properly, astral laughter echoed in the distance.
She knew where this laughter came from—Pale Draggles.
And from the intensity of the laughter, there should be at least four or even five of them.
Just meeting one Ghost would be a death sentence for Granny Linsa and Adrian, but five? Might as well kill themselves right now. But she didn't lose hope, or at least, she didn't want to lose hope, "Y-Young master! Please! I thought you said that you'd spare us!"
Silence.
Nobody answered her.
All she could hear was the sound of the approaching Pale Draggles.
"We'll change!" Granny Linsa screamed again. "I swear we'll change! Just spare us!"
Realizing that it was futile, she continued ahead, now more desperately.
She had already abandoned searching for the spear; instead, she wanted to leave the woods.
As long as she gets out of the woods, her chance of survival will significantly increase.
Each step was a struggle.
