The sheep's head opened its mouth, majestic and terrifying, tightly sealing the two doors.
This was the gate separating the central hall from the inner hall.
It was also a gate that isolated the altar.
Mo Hua looked at the grim and horrifying, yet familiar and amiable sheep's head, faintly sensing the tempting and drooling aura behind it, his heart pounding.
He didn't pretend anymore and directly asked Mr. Witch:
"How do we open the door?"
Mr. Witch replied, "This door, it's not easy to open..."
"Stop talking nonsense." Mo Hua's face was stern.
"Okay, okay..."
Mr. Witch repeatedly said, muttering inwardly: This little devil, why was he so cautious just now, but now he seems a bit impatient?
Throughout this journey, this little devil was just too shrewd.
He could pick faults in the smallest matters.
Those eyes were clear as water, sometimes deep as an abyss, making one feel uneasy being watched.
Mr. Witch didn't dare lie and thus explained:
