Chapter 105: Pay the Toll or The Path is Closed!
At first glance, they appeared to be mere decorations—two balloon-like shapes billowing lazily in the wind among the tattered ribbons. But upon closer inspection, a grim truth revealed itself.
They were not balloons.
They were not decorations.
They were human skins—emptied of flesh and bone, hollowed out like grotesque sacks, tied to tattered festival ribbons, they swayed alongside the faded streamers, swaying from the flagpoles beside the gatehouse. The remnants of holy sect uniform robes still clung to them, fluttering like funeral shrouds.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. "They're wearing our holy sect's Outer Sect NorthStone peak's uniform robes," one cultivator whispered.
"Must be from the earlier squad, snared by the estate's defensive curse Fulu," another muttered.
"Poor souls," Shirley Quinn sighed, the words drawled out like a cat stretching in sunlight, as she examined her delicate painted nails—each one a perfect, venomous crescent.
"Nothing left but... flapping skin." A delicate wrinkle of her nose, as if offended by the mess rather than the loss. "Well... since they were fellow sect comrades of our most holy order..." She flicked a glance toward the remains, her lips curving in a smile that never reached her eyes.
"I suppose we ought to give them a proper send-off. For decency's sake."
With a casual flick of her feather fan, she cast a spell, sending an emerald flame arcing toward the macabre remnants—
But as the flames neared, the skins moved.