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墨書 Inktalez
"What good is it to just lament your fate? Who took your head? Do you have unfinished business?"
Wang Zhao mustered his courage to ask. He wasn't particularly afraid; it was just that the bloody head was staring at him, making him feel physically uncomfortable. With no way to escape, he could only treat this dead horse as a live one.
Who? Who severed my head?
Blood flowed continuously from the severed neck of the woman, dripping down in a nauseating, sticky manner that was hard to bear. The scene was a tremendous test for Wang Zhao, both psychologically and physically.
I remember now! It was her! That wicked woman! Return my body! Return my body! Wuwuwu!
The woman's head grew agitated, and the flow of blood quickened. Wang Zhao seized the opportunity to search for an exit from the tomb, but he was met with disappointment.
Even so, he did not give up. His gaze swept across every corner of the tomb without pause as he spoke to distract the ghostly head.
Just tell me what I can do for you. Stop crying; it's too damn disturbing!
The ghost seemed enraged by his words and suddenly opened its gaping mouth wide, lunging at Wang Zhao.
Blood mixed with saliva, thick and stringy.
Damn it!
Wang Zhao's body tensed up as he muttered under his breath. The distance was too close, and the speed too fast; he didn't have time to shoot.
As the head rushed toward him, he could only use his dagger for a final defense.
Seeing the head draw near, with blood and saliva almost dripping onto him, Wang Zhao felt a sense of dread—was he really going to lose his life today?
It seemed all of this was fate; he closed his eyes.
Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed loudly, sharp enough to almost pierce his eardrums. Instinctively, he covered his ears and opened his eyes to see what had happened.
Before him, the ghostly head floating in mid-air had been struck by something. Its long hair had turned charred black, and a large dent had formed in its skull, revealing glimpses of something white inside.
A golden light unexpectedly emanated from his chest, gradually dimming. Wang Zhao suddenly remembered something; he pulled open his collar and took out a small, unremarkable object that he had worn around his neck since childhood.
It was a wooden pendant, one side carved with seven interconnected dots, while the other side depicted a deity with an imposing expression. Since he could remember, this little wooden plaque had always hung around his neck. He had always thought it was just an ordinary trinket, a keepsake left to him by his parents or ancestors. Therefore, he had cherished it deeply and never taken it off.
What he did not know was that this was actually a Seven Star Protective Pendant carved from thunderstruck wood. The front of the pendant bore the image of the Supreme War God of Heaven, Beiji Zhen Tian Zhen Wu Xuan Tian Shang Di, also known as Xuanwu Emperor Zhenwu Dijun Dangmo Tianzun. He was the revered deity in charge of the northern celestial realm, possessing divine powers to ward off evil and protect all beings.
How dare a mere female ghost act so brazenly in front of him? Ha! So you fear this?
Wang Zhao suddenly discovered the ghost's weakness. He pulled out the wooden pendant and held it up against his chest. At that moment, with his back straightened, perhaps bolstered by the pendant's divine aura, he felt an unexpected courage to confront the malevolent forces.
"Either let me go, or I'll make sure you suffer! You choose!" Wang Zhao declared as he pulled a hand grenade from his bag to threaten her.
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