Over there, the girls who had entered the wooden bodies had already vented their anger almost completely.
The entire village was on its last breath, half-dead and barely alive.
Those who had previously been the loudest in their protestations dared not speak now, their eyes filled with deep fear. Their village god had already become a corpse, so what sort of end could they expect?
A few, sensing that things were not boding well, actually tried to commit suicide by biting their own tongues, but were discovered and stopped by the resentful ghosts.
Now, as Mianmian approached, the ghosts lined up and thanked her.
If Mianmian had not come and destroyed the Soul-suppressing Stele, who knows how long they would have been trapped under it, perhaps even having their souls scattered, unable to seek revenge.
The villagers on the ground, with twisted limbs and burst eyeballs, were their finest masterpieces.
