"Old thing, you're looking for death!"
The old woman clutched the zombie child tightly, shrieking at the pale youth, her long fangs bared.
The pale youth's expression darkened, and he was about to make a move, but the Sword Box Elder stopped him.
"Don't provoke her."
The pale youth seemed to have a tinge of wariness toward the Sword Box Elder, and with a cold snort, he reined in his aura.
The old crone shed her corpse transformation, returning to a normal old woman, holding the child in her bosom, her expression serene and calm.
The Sword Box Elder looked up at the sky and then said,
"It's getting late, it's time to set out."
He turned his head, looked at the other few people, his expression indifferent, but his tone was solemn as he said,
"We do what we must, mind not the rest."
The elder adjusted the sword box on his back.
The sword box trembled slightly, emitting a bloodthirsty yearning.
"Don't be hasty..."
The elder thought silently to himself.
