The blood, deep red as roses, dripped steadily like pearls sliding off a string, slowly trailing down the white bones.
Skulls, hollow and silent, were piled in an orderly fashion, forming a towering pyramid shape.
Ran Qingchen gazed vacantly at it all.
Clad in her light blue gown, she was like an ethereal orchid, completely out of place amidst the surrounding eerie atmosphere.
Ran Qingchen was bewildered.
She did not understand why she was in such a strange place, it felt more like she was in a ghostly realm.
Unable to make a sound, nor move...
Atop the bones, a throne enshrouded in a ghostly aura stood tall, radiating an intimidating power and profound loneliness.
She found herself unconsciously moving her legs.
As if some force was compelling her to approach the throne.
When she sat upon the throne, and looked up again, she was startled to see rows of soldiers draped in heavy black armor, solemnly and neatly kneeling.
