The dark shadows surged forward like a rushing tide, moving with astonishing speed, like bolts of black lightning.
Visually, they looked like a vast expanse of impenetrable black ink, rapidly spreading across the entire field of vision. At the same time, a nauseating stench of decay assaulted their noses. The odor felt almost tangible, sliding into the nasal cavities and churning in the throat, bearing a striking resemblance to the foul stench of corpse puppets described in web novels.
Lu Yao instinctively gripped Ma Lin's hand, clearly feeling a thin layer of sweat slicking her palms. That damp, clammy sensation only heightened her anxiety, but Ma Lin gripped her hand back. His palm was broad and warm, and he gave her a reassuring look that spoke volumes without a single word.
Chapter 52