Hundreds of human faces, perfect to the extreme, indistinguishable in gender, yet each one is exceedingly exquisite. They are embedded like reliefs on the crystalline bodies, and each face displays an ultimate, almost hollow tranquility and harmony, with eyes gently shut and the corners of lips holding an eternal, contented smile, forming part of this sacred grotesque creature. As it moves, those faces shimmer in the light, as if breathing like living things.
Almost instinctively, Lin Xian crouched low, completely burying himself into the depths of the grass that was lush like a thick carpet, his heart pounding wildly. This sight was beyond comprehension, a terrifying blend of the sacred and the grotesque.
He held his breath, his gaze carefully scanning the valley below through the gaps in the grass leaves.
At this sight, his scalp instantaneously tingled, and a cold nausea surged to his throat.
