The heavy rain pelted down. Just as Feng Xiao and Zong Ling were speaking uneasily, there was a shadow within the forest standing in front of more than ten corpses.
It seemed like a girl, her body like an illusion or mist. Her face was above average, her star-like eyes were filled with interest as she looked around.
These corpses were all burned up, so apart from some injuries, one couldn't see anything.
However, the Yin and Yang formation of the spell altar was still there, the nearby branches and leaves proved that a battle had occurred here.
It was obvious to see that the person who dealt with the traces, as well as these corpses, didn't truly put in a lot of effort.
The girl's eyes, from start to finish, focused on an average-sized corpse, her eyes turning and her face smiling slightly.