The anguished cries of souls echoed through the air, their futile attempts to escape the swirling vortex met with failure. Instead of finding respite, each desperate effort only drew them closer to the relentless whirlpool's grip.
[+1 Living Soul has been absorbed!]
[+1 Living Soul has been absorbed!]
[+1 Living Soul has been absorbed!]
[+1 Living Soul has been absorbed!]
…
The notifications punctuated the scene, appearing one by one in Xia Wie's view. Yet, with each new notification, the previous one faded away, ensuring his vision remained unobstructed.
Xia Wie observed the suffering souls with detached interest, his gaze wandering to the notifications as they continued to tally the absorbed souls. He had no need to offer assistance; his mere presence sufficed. As the number of souls dwindled, a figure emerged from the depths—a familiar face, Old Ping.
