WHOOSH…
At the moment he rushed out of the town, Hu Ma could feel an indescribable momentum and oppressive force ahead. A yin wind, almost tangible, rolled forward in sweeping waves. Even the forest outside the town seemed to come alive at that moment, baring its fangs and claws as it rushed towards him.
In the distance, he could clearly see one of the Grass Head Eight Declining Gods that he was charging towards. Its figure was massive, seemingly taller than the eerie treetops outside the town.
It wore a long robe as black as night, with a crown hat made of woven straw on its head. The strands hanging around its body were clearly braids of black hair, and at the ends of this hair, numerous heads were tied together.
Some faces were pitch black, others deathly pale. Only their heads remained, hanging like ornaments, yet they were alive, their mouths opening continuously. They couldn't make a sound, but it truly seemed as if something was being spoken from their mouths.
