Chapter 843: The Dark God
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He saw Isbella raise her hand, and then close her eyes.
Isbella was startled, her hand wavering indecisively in the air. The atmosphere around her seemed to stagnate. She felt her breathing become labored, a tightness in her chest—it was suppression.
After taking two deep breaths, suddenly, a gust of wind blew into her coat. The cold mist roiled and surged, slipping inside as though it had become dense without notice. What had once crept at her feet now proudly raised its head, like a king or a deity from on high.
The gloomy white fog engulfed Nidam's face, and Isbella's heart lurched. She moved as swiftly as a scared rabbit, flipping over to climb the tree behind her.
It was a dark night, and though he wore a black robe, he was unnaturally distinct. Wherever he passed, the mist parted before him, as if all creatures were kneeling in worship, leaving behind a long trail.