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... e at all, it’s all underground. Now that all the ferns have died, it starts to shrink. Ange flicked his fingers, and the soil on the ground bulged, lifting it up.

They were roots like tentacles, countless branch roots sprawling and waving, furry, and with a kind of dense horror.

Ange swung his hand forcefully, and from the moment he raised his hand, an extremely long whip materialized in his hand. When he swung it out, the whip body was invisible, and only a thundering air explos ...

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“You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere!” His scarlet eyes settled on her face, blazing in a raging fury.

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