The only thing that might interest him was probably the whereabouts of his fifth disciple.
Swish! Swish!
In the astonished gazes of the crowd, the middle-aged man and others sliced their own fingers with a swift cut of the knife.
Immediately after, fresh blood began to flow from their fingertips.
Drip! Drip!
It fell precisely onto the sandalwood.
The sandalwood, still burning and now mingled with the scent of blood, became even more eerie.
"Is this also a way of sacrifice?"
Ye Qinghong, perhaps sensing no danger, had already sheathed his sword behind him and asked curiously.
Guan Qinghan and others were also blinking, their figures' shadows having dissipated behind them.
"That's right, the sacrifices at the Bone Temple are different from normal ones and need to be accompanied by fresh blood, as this is the will of the Blood God. It is said that only when blood is shed can the Blood God sense it, and thus protect you to survive in this bizarre mountain village."
