A pair of huge vertical pupils slowly opened in the fog.
Those eyes were breathtakingly beautiful—the irises were flowing molten gold, while the pupils were bottomless diamond-shaped black holes, with a circle of delicate camellia flower patterns dotted around the edges.
Every time I blink, starlight falls from between the eyelash-like lenses.
When the eyes were fully revealed, Blore finally saw the being lurking in the mist:
A giant dragon with scales covered with camellia flowers. Each black scale is inlaid with a blooming silver-blue flower. The dragon's horns are two intertwined dead branches, with crystal fruits hanging on the branches, and twisted human-shaped shadows are sealed inside.
When the dragon stretched its body, the entire space distorted.
The way it stared down at Blore was like a predator examining its prey, or a mother examining her long-absent child.
When it breathes, the camellia flowers between the scales tremble together, and the scattered pollen condenses into ancient runes in the air.
The strangest thing is that at the position of the dragon's heart, half of a human-shaped mask that has not yet fallen off can be vaguely seen - it is the one that Ji Changshu had just worn.
My breath stagnated in my chest, and time seemed to be stretched into sticky amber at this moment.
The Pixiu beside him was surrounded by a golden light like ancient scriptures. The words that appeared on the scales were not engraved, but were the light that shone from deep within the flesh and blood. Every stroke of the pen exuded the breath of the ancient times.
The chains wrapped around his wrists suddenly came alive, the links colliding with each other, making a clear sound like Buddhist chanting, and the scriptures that appeared on them sounded like both a blessing and a curse.
Thick fog surged over the ankles like a tide, with tiny golden dust particles floating in the mist, each of which was interpreting a different fragment of memory.
Blore squinted his eyes and saw distorted images emerging from the mist—tall, gnarled trees that appeared and disappeared in the mist, with bronze bells hanging from their branches;
The outlines of the village huts in the distance were stretched into grotesque silhouettes, the smoke from the chimneys solidified into painful shapes;
Further away, a glazed palace was suspended in the void, with cocoon-like objects densely hanging under its eaves, swaying gently with the invisible wind.
And in the center of this chaotic scene, several blurry figures were stumbling towards him.
The man's running posture was strange and clumsy, as if he was struggling against some invisible resistance.
Blore felt his temples throbbing, something churning violently in the depths of his memory, yet it was always separated by a layer of frosted glass.
He subconsciously stretched out his hand, his fingertips piercing through the cold mist, but he only grabbed a handful of withering camellia petals.
At this instant, the blooming rose flower suddenly burst out with a dazzling light, and each petal turned into the shape of a pupil.
The Pixiu let out a deafening roar and threw Blore on its back at the critical moment.
At the moment of taking off, he caught a last glimpse of the running figures finally breaking through the fog - among the flying mist, three faces that were extremely familiar to him were revealed.
But Bai Di's outstretched arm was wrapped with the same scripture chain as his, and the words that came out of his lips were clearly:
"Run away—"
All the images shattered into thousands of light points at the moment of contact.
The Pixiu carried him into the crack of the fog wall, and behind him came the long dragon roar of Ji Changshu's original body. The voice contained too many difficult-to-interpret emotions, like a farewell, and also like some kind of ancient summoning of spirits.
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