"Ugh…!"
A muffled grunt was torn from Song Zhuyu's lips as his back collided with the stone altar with enough force to break bones. Extreme pain gnawed on every inch of his flesh, with the center being the mark on his right hip. It immobilized him, stripping him of strength until all that remained was weakness. Even then, his silver eyes burned all the more brightly as he glared at the floating marble above him. Each word he gritted out was filled with murderous intent,
"You… fucker…!"
All this time, except for some heated and throbbing sensation, the mark had never truly bothered him before – until now. This only confirmed his conjecture that the black marble was indeed connected to the demon!
In the next instant, the villagers were on him, once again pressing him down.
"How dare you—!"
"How presumptuous! You should be grateful to be chosen as the sacrifice!"