Ten Years
Lin Qiye's blade pierced the ghost face, but that wasn't what made the Ghost-Face King scream in agony. The real reason for that heart-wrenching howl lay in Lin Qiye's eyes. Beneath the burning golden light, the ghostly visage melted like wax under flame, dissolving rapidly. The light only flashed for an instant, but it was enough to extinguish what little life the Ghost-Face King had left. Under Lin Qiye's gaze, the ghostly mask hardened into a wrinkled, half-solid lump, no trace of its twisted face remaining. At the same time, Lin Qiye felt a warm current flow from the hand gripping the blade, seeping slowly into his body. He frowned, pressing his foot against the corpse beneath him as he withdrew his knife. After a pause, he bent down to pick up the pale lump of ghostly remains—
- Writer
