"Ah! Ah! Awoo! Awoo!"
"Aahhh—!!!"
"Aaahh ga ga ga!"
"Awoo! Awoo! Aaahh!"
Four Nascent Soul cultivators were each held mid-air by four black ghastly ghost claws, screaming miserably as the claws tightened their grip, their eyes bulging out, their mouths and noses oozing murky blood filled with evil energy like squeezed out soy pulp. The black hands grew bigger and the grip stronger, the claws slowly digging in, crushing the flesh, snapping the bones, and squeezing out the innards and eyeballs.
The emaciated young Daoist leaned against a gourd, sitting cross-legged, one leg swinging, atop a platform built from the enormous carcasses of demonic beasts and the bones of giant warriors. From his back emerged a nine-headed bird of prey, perching on his shoulder blades, wings outspread, noble vulture-like heads bathing in the blood and flesh rain falling from above, some heads drinking with gusto, while others pecked at the blood and flesh of the demonic beasts beneath.
