His gaze was scorching, fixed upon the enormous tree where countless people had been hanged.
His eyes were filled with awe and fanaticism,
as if it weren't a malevolent tree, but the supreme deity in his heart.
He spoke in a nearly frenzied tone, "Great Mountain God!
All of these people are offerings to you from our Xia Shui Village.
Please accept them, great Mountain God, and bless Xia Shui Village with good fortune!"
After speaking, he pressed his forehead firmly to the ground,
his body trembling slightly, as if engaged in some mysterious communion with a Divine Spirit.
As Chang Bailin's words faded, the atmosphere in the mountain forest instantly grew even more eerie.
Gusts of chilling wind swept through without warning, like phantoms.
They carried an indescribable Mysterious Power, howling and rampaging through the woods.
The sound of the wind was sharp and mournful, like the wails of demons from the depths of Hell,
striking at the deepest fears of the human heart.
