The Talisman fluttered in midair and emitted a pale white light. Its gentle illumination revealed a scene of bloodstains and dismembered limbs. A dim, murky radiance arose from the darkness.
Li Qinghong glanced over, a flash of anger in her eyes. The man beside her respectfully bowed his head and answered,
"Twenty-seven households, one hundred and ten people—none survived."
Li Qinghong narrowed her eyes and planted her spear on the ground, casting a spell to investigate. She murmured,
"There's no demonic aura. It wasn't the work of a demon. I'm afraid it must have been some cultivator seeking blood to consume."
"Whoosh..."
As Li Qinghong closely observed the scene, a black dart suddenly shot out. It blazed with Dharma Light, and a dark thread trailed from its tail, plunging into the darkness.
