The statue on the stone wall of the cave still looked the same, but soon, the lines became blurred, as if faded, and gradually faded away, turning into a ball of golden mist that mixed into the rapidly stirring and rotating air.
Xiao Nanhui opened his eyes wide and tried hard to distinguish, only to find that the glowing fine powder was the remains of the shattered rock wall, mixed with gems and gold threads from the murals. Those beautiful and hard stones were crushed into dust by the invisible wind.
The wind's roar grew sharper, the air distorted by the rapid vibrations, and the gravel caught in it turned to dust, outlining the invisible wind and forming a series of gauze-like barriers, which wrapped layer upon layer into a huge sphere. And this sphere continued to expand and expand, pressing against the surrounding rock walls.
Her head became so heavy that it took an effort to lift it.
With her fingertips, she gripped the man's clothes so hard that they wrinkled.
The body beneath the clothes was as immovable as a rock, and the barbed arrow almost pierced through him. She saw the blood flowing from his chest gradually turning into thin threads, which scattered in the air like leaf veins, expanding the terrible eye of the storm, as if it was going to swallow up the entire world.
The air became thinner, and she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Her vision went dark, as if an invisible veil was placed over her head, draining away her vitality bit by bit.
"His Majesty......"
She reached out her hand tremblingly and pushed aside the man's loose hair, revealing a face that was both familiar and unfamiliar to her.
He remained expressionless, yet a strange glow blossomed from his pale face, making it difficult to look directly at him. Those eyes, once as indifferent as ancient wells, now contained only two infinitely enlarged pupils, like pitch-black, terrifying holes, filled with endless madness and pain.
There lived a strange soul, like the cold and aloof god in the legend.
Driven by that terrifying force, his pupils began to ooze blood. Lines of blood grew from the corners of his eyes and slowly crawled towards his temples.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty... wake up..."
He didn't react at all, as if he couldn't hear anything.
She reached for his hand, and those pale, slender hands now seemed carved from the coldest, hardest stone, and could not be moved in any way.
There was only one sentence remaining in her mind: No matter what, she must put the beads back on.
"His Majesty!"
She screamed at the top of her lungs, begging him to regain some of his sanity. However, her cry was like a bubble sinking into the deep sea, leaving no echo after it burst.
She used up her last bit of strength and dug her fingertips into the rough, dry ground beneath his left hand. Gravel embedded in her nails and blood oozed from her fingertips, but she was completely unaware and just kept repeating the action until she could get her hand into the narrow gap.
The suffocating pressure made her hands tremble constantly. She gathered the man's fingers one by one into her hands, then slowly clasped them together and overlapped them with her own hands.
She remembered the word he had written on her palm with cinnabar.
"Sonwei..."
Her bloody fingertips tightly clasped the back of his hand, and she pushed the string of Buddhist beads that she had previously worn on her wrist towards his hand.
Not yet......
She called his name over and over again until she fell into deep darkness.
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