"Deers are a very elegant animal, you're too rough," Xia Yang picked up the totem that Gao Ming had stepped on earlier and drew the Monster on the beast's face, mimicking the ability of the Clay Sculpture Beast God.
Xia Yang had no faith and revered nothing.
In his eyes, all gods, all powers, all memories were but pigments in his hands, including Gao Ming and himself. As long as he could personally paint the perfect Fate, it was all worth it.
His body turned into a flurry of colorful snowflakes. Like a dandelion blown away, Xia Yang attached himself to Luo Dong's wife's body.
"To be chosen by Gao Ming, there must be something uniquely attractive about you and your family."
The images of fierce beasts and Red Clothes appeared simultaneously on Luo Dong's wife's body, as Xia Yang used her soul as a canvas, his voice emanating from the painting.
