The bloody, severed head was a gruesome sight in the night.
The old man yelped, his hair standing on end as he scrambled backward in terror.
Wei An was also badly shaken.
The lead Cultivator glanced at the old man, puzzled by his extreme reaction.
After all, there wasn't a Cultivator in Immortal Arrival City who hadn't seen blood.
"Take a look. The escaped Cultivators are all from the Demon Dao. They practice wicked techniques, which causes poor blood circulation in their faces, leaving behind these red lines that resemble tear tracks."
"If this group isn't rooted out, the harm they cause will be endless. Please be on the lookout."
Bai Mo took a few steps forward and stared at the head for several moments before solemnly agreeing.
"It's my duty. I will certainly keep an eye out."
With that, the group of Sect Disciples left, quickly vanishing into the night.
"That man... how could he just..."
