As everyone stormed into the backyard, chaos unfolded before their eyes.
All around lay shriveled corpses, whether the highly skilled Protectors or the house servants' families, all were already dead, their necks torn open, skin a bizarre pallor.
Among them were several young children, Wang Maode's grandchildren.
The strong stench of blood mixed with the sickly sweet odor of the corpses, almost turning tangible, smeared against the faces of everyone who entered the courtyard.
The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls, illuminating splatters of blood that appeared and disappeared.
In the main hall, a Daoist priestess sat with her head down on the Taishi Chair.
The dim light enhanced her mystery.
Following closely behind was Wang Maode, who fixated on the small corpses not far away.
Those were his two grandchildren, discarded like ragdolls, shriveled and blue, frozen in poses of curled desperation, with empty eye sockets gazing towards the sky.
