Qian State, a certain forbidden land.
Underground chamber, dark and ominous.
Within the chamber, an altar was set, on which rested a vast white skull with a human face and ram horns, ferocious fangs, and bloodstains all over.
Mr. Tu knelt before the skull.
His complexion was pale, tinged with a greenish hue; his fingers were slender, as if soaked too long in blood, cracking with blood seeping in.
Mr. Tu's pupils were hollow, as if something had parasitized him. He hoarsely muttered words, as if speaking to someone or perhaps to himself:
"That person is dead, his Taoist bones stripped, the gates of Back Ruins will open sooner or later…"
"The living shall die, and the dead shall live…"
"The thousand-year plan is about to make its move…"
"Everything was calculated perfectly…"
