In the dungeon, Qingdai huddled in a corner, unable to stop her body from trembling.
She only remembered catching a faint, lingering scent in the darkness; before she could even react, all memory had faded away. Looking around, she saw the grim, terrifying atmosphere of a prison. A dim, sickly yellow light filtered down the narrow corridor, illuminating the door of the cell opposite, but failing to reach the depths of the shadows.
The unknown brought with it an infinite sense of dread.
Chapter 80