"Hatred... your body is crawling with indescribable hatred..."
Perceiving such a bizarre scene, Elma's tail fur stood on end, and he was almost frightened to jump back, instinctively arching his back towards the Imperial Count.
"And those hatreds are 'alive'!"
Elma only felt his scalp tingle and instinctively moved a bit further away from the other party: "They're constantly cursing your soul!"
What kind of resilient soul could bear such an unending curse and hatred?
Countless faces continued to squirm outward, and a fragmentary phantom figure seemed about to crawl out of the Count's body.
Elma instinctively clenched the Philosopher's Stone given to him by Lord Lin Lan, and in the next second, light patterns extended up his arm, as the overlapping silhouettes seemed to see something terrifying beyond comprehension, emitting frantic cries of extreme fear.
