From a distance, it looked like bundles of pale fences, sealing the towering figure of Solban within.
Deprived of freedom, unable to move.
The barbarian king, renowned across the Skull Plain, remained calm.
But within his dark, deep pupils, a touch of sorrow lingered, impossible to dispel.
Around the great hall, eighteen monks from the Heavenly Deceit Realm, draped in red robes, formed an incomplete circle around Solban. They held Dorje bells and magic wands, wore necklaces made of forehead bones, and their waists were adorned with magic drums made from the skulls and skins of high monks.
They chanted and danced.
Shaking the Dorje bells in their hands and striking the magic drum on their waists simultaneously, a rhythmic sound echoed.
As these monks from Heavenly Deceit chanted in unison, the lamps around Solban suddenly lit up.
Large amounts of smoke filled the entire hall like a reverse waterfall.
Amidst the growing distant beat of drums,
