Late at night, bonfires were blazing in the Cold Stream Valley.
Qing Fu, holding a flagpole made of white bones with long, white streamers tied onto it, lithely walked around Cold Stream Valley like a fairy who only appeared during the night. She was waving the flagpole and whispering an ancient mysterious spell, sending those mysterious beings of the jungle back to where they came from.
The skinny black monster and the white skeleton monster, both the strongest amongst the mysterious beings, were mumbling something. They had consumed the blood of two gigantic beasts; they walked with satisfaction into the fog and disappeared slowly.
Gusts of whirlwind blew in every direction. Murmurs resounded throughout the air. The mad slaughter that occurred in Cold Stream Valley tonight stimulated the nearby mysterious beings who had yet to calm down from the commotion.
