Chapter 87 The Child Chosen by the Gods

In the ruins of dawn, even bathed in light, the cold and damp thickness could not be altered.

The dark, viscous matter flowed along the ground, and beneath the inky cloak, the woman's eyes were emotionless, staring intently at the empty spot in the corner.

"What's wrong?"

After a moment beside the dried-up pool, the person waiting for the yet-to-arrive sacrificial offering cocked his head slightly, his gray-green face stiff and icy.

The woman lowered her head and said softly, "It's nothing."

The spreading black viscous substance enveloped the girls, binding them like tentacles, and then dragged the thirteen girls onto the platform near the ruins, arranging them neatly.

The girls' wrists extended on their own, the blackness tore open their fragile veins, and the fresh red blood trickled down.

Even though they had been dead for some time, their blood remained fresh and thick.