Although there are many ancient buildings here, perhaps because of the special materials used, even the slightest sound will be infinitely amplified several times, producing endless echoes, like a group of ghosts circling in the air.
The originally magnificent and huge temple has now quietly transformed into a spire towering into the clouds.
The tower stands tall and straight into the sky, giving people an indescribable sense of oppression.
At this moment, countless figures slowly emerged from the darkness.
Their faces were as pale as white paper, devoid of any color; their limbs were extremely thin, as limp as willows swaying in the wind.
The huge head forms a sharp contrast with the thin body, which seems extremely disproportionate; the figure is slender and graceful, but the face is so similar that it seems as if it was copied and pasted, and at first glance they are almost exactly the same.
Such a strange appearance makes them look powerless and more like a group of sickly and weak people.
This group of strange people seemed to have just woken up from a deep sleep, their movements were slow and stiff.
They first stretched out their hands with great effort, and then used the strength of their arms to drag their entire bodies out little by little, as if they had been trapped in a small space for a long time and finally had the chance to see the light of day again.
Everyone's face showed a confused expression, and their eyes looked around blankly, as if they had no idea where they were or what had happened.
However, in this bustling world, no one had noticed that on top of the towering spire that reached the clouds, a man had been standing quietly since some time ago.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his body straight, like a pine tree standing proudly on the top of a mountain, looking down at the strange group of people below who were gradually awakening from the chaos.
His eyes were as deep as the sea, mysterious and unfathomable, making it difficult to glimpse into what he was thinking deep in his heart.
He was wearing a mask with blossoms of camellia flowers carefully decorated on it.
The petals of the camellia flowers are as white as snow and crystal clear; the stamens are as bright and dazzling as if made of gold.
Each flower is in full bloom, dazzling and beautiful, as if swaying gently in the breeze, emitting bursts of charming fragrance.
And beneath that exquisite mask, there is a dark shadow hidden.
Due to the dim light, the shadow's entire appearance could not be clearly seen. All that could be seen was that he was wearing a black robe. The black robe was well-cut and fitted his tall and slender figure, making him look even more imposing.
An invisible and powerful aura continuously emanated from him, like a huge volcano that had been dormant for a long time but could erupt at any time, giving people a strong sense of oppression and awe.
At this time, a hunchbacked old man knelt respectfully behind the man.
He stood motionless, like a stone statue weathered by time, so quiet that he almost blended in with the surrounding environment.
"Huh? Why did you wake up suddenly?"
A somewhat nonchalant voice came over. The feathers on the man's face showed a gradient color transitioning from shadow blue to chalky white, but he was wearing a dark black robe. The texture of the robe looked extremely delicate, as if it was woven from the finest silk, and every inch of the fabric exuded a faint luster.
It draped smoothly from the shoulders to the ankles without a single wrinkle. The robe was unadorned, with only delicate patterns embroidered with gold thread at the collar and cuffs. These patterns shimmered softly under the light, adding a touch of mystery and nobility.
His hair was incredibly long, reaching down to the ground like a black waterfall.
The hair was as black as ink, as if it could absorb the surrounding light, and it also had a faint shadow-blue luster, making the whole person look mysterious and charming.
At this moment, a man stood there with his hands behind his back. His tone was as calm as water: "If you can do it, why can't I, Wu Shanqing?"
Hearing this, Wu Shanqing responded lightly: "Hmm..."
Then the man continued, "Those kids are quite interesting, especially one of them. Don't you think he looks familiar?"
However, in the face of such inquiries, the man's reaction remained indifferent, as if he had no feelings about it at all. He just responded indifferently: "Are you familiar with it?"
Seeing this, Wu Shanqing did not give up and continued to ask, "Have you really never had any contact with him? How is that possible?"
At this moment, the masked man moved his feet slightly and whispered four words: "Star Soul Box..."
Seeing that the other party finally responded, Wu Shanqing couldn't help but laugh and said with emotion:
"Finally I recognized it. Alas, it's really not easy for me! I've been trapped here for so many years. Tell me, is this true, Ji Changshu?"
In response, Ji Changshu just shook his head slightly, then slowly raised his right hand.
In an instant, a turquoise light appeared in his palm. The light was like a quiet deep pool, or an emerald green crystal. It was so deep that it was difficult to see to the bottom.
"It's not easy for him to snatch someone's life from you, but that fellow surnamed Bai is not simple either. He is really the one who is constantly changing..." Wu Shanqing said dimly.
“But there is another person who is very strange. It seems that his soul is not complete. Only a little bit of his soul is here and has been wandering around.
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