The purple-robed man who had turned his head away did not say a word, but the window reflected the vague shadow of his sneer.
After a brief moment of surprise, Haas was like a stone statue and did not make any more sound.
He seemed to be uninterested in everything around him. Even if song qingxiao happened to be talking to him, it was as if it was none of his business.
The low prayer sounded again. He lowered his head again and bent his back even more.
The thorns that were tied to his back pierced deep into his flesh. The thorns grabbed his flesh tightly and tore it apart, making a hair-raising 'Chi Chi' sound.
Blood gushed out from the wound and was absorbed by his old monk robe, turning into black and red Shadows. They wriggled in his monk robe as if they were trying to weave a unique totem.
Black robe, who had his eyes closed and his back relaxed, sat up straight again.
