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The mastiff that eats the dead is just guarding his own food, and he doesn't want to provoke the black skeleton ghost in front of him, and the intuition brought by the life span of the ordinary wild dog that has lived several times more makes the demonized beast realize that the skeleton is really very difficult to mess with. And Sen Luo didn't want to snatch its food, so it was better not to draw the skeleton's attention - what if the skeleton came to steal its food? Escape! The ghoul mastiff has already made such a decision.

Sen Luo walked past the ground that had been cut into a mess and had lost broken bones everywhere, "This world of demons has come to this point, there are so many dead corpses in such a small place here. What Sen Luo saw in his eyes was the ruins of the wall, and the remnants of the foundation of the hut, which seemed to have been a village. Finally, Bai Sen Luo killed Luo Jiang's gods, and the dark clouds in the sky cracked the cracks, and some sunlight spilled from the cracks, which regained the warmth of this place at the same time, but also dispersed the yin energy on the earth, so that many little ghosts and demons dissipated like this, far away from the human world.

This place, perhaps, can really start over one day. The samurai of the bones does not stop, there is no need for the Sutra of Death here - although it seems that the ghoul mastiff is fierce and vicious, but the breath on its body is the breath of hell, and the resentful souls and dead corpses of ordinary people after being devoured by this demon can be exceeded-just like the heavenly burial in Tibet. The farther south we went, the thinner and whiter the sunlight in the sky became, and the warmth faded away.

The earth is filled with a mist-like aura that dissipates during the day only near the town, but at night it still permeates the streets. Naturally, there are strange places everywhere here, and Sen Luo has seen one now. It was a village, and although it was covered in fog, it looked intact. Although the thatched huts are dilapidated, they look still inhabitable, and they are not the kind of houses that have been uninhabited for so many years that they are on the verge of collapsing.

The popularity of the house and the unpopularity of the house are completely different things, but Sen Luo only sighed when he saw it. As a skeleton ghost, his sigh was purely demonic urging. The skeletal warrior did not enter the village, and he carefully walked around the village, not wanting his presence to be seen by the people in the village. The village was surprisingly peaceful, and there might have been people in shabby clothes, vegetables, and malnutrition – but that was characteristic of the vast majority of Japanese peasants, and just looking at how they could walk around the village was like a dream.

The skeletal warrior was careful not to let the men see it, and he stood outside the village, his skeletal face facing the village, and looked at it for a moment. Then the skeleton shook the rosary on its wrist and recited the scriptures softly. As the pale sunlight in the distance appeared little by little, the fog in the village in front of me was a little lighter, and the houses, the villagers also looked a little pale, as if they had not seen the sun for a long time. "Those who should go, can't stay." Sen Luo whispered, and he left—behind him, as the sun grew higher, the village vanished like a bubble, leaving only the dilapidated houses in their place.

Originally, after the end of the Warring States period, there was a period of time when the population multiplied and flourished, and there were really a lot of villages and manors on the side of the traffic. But half of them have been abandoned, and the villagers have either died or fled to work elsewhere. Even the samurai were precarious in this era, and there were really a lot of poor country samurai - the villagers could escape, but the samurai could not run away out of honor or fiefdom. And it is such a place where Sen Luo is resting now.

It may have been the former residence of some elegant samurai, but it was long since empty, and Moriro thought that most of the people here were dead—for there was a resentment lingering in the courtyard. Two-thirds of the houses had collapsed, and only a small pavilion could still be contained. The reason why we say Fengya is that Fengya is connected to the main house by a wooden bridge in this small pavilion, and below the raised pavilion is the white gravel and pebbles that can be vaguely seen now. "Simulate an island in the sea?" Sen Luo said in a double tone.

Now that the withered sea has grown artemisia grass, and the trees that have not been built have long grown like ghost claws, although this small pavilion has not collapsed, but the floor is cracked, the roof is broken, and the four pillars that support it have cracked, I am afraid that after a few years of wind and rain, this small pavilion will also collapse like the main house, but for now, it can still make a skeleton samurai sit in the corridor outside, and the two skeletal legs swing down and sit in a trance.

"There's no more alcohol." The skeletal warrior muttered to himself, "What a pity. The beauty under the moon with the long knife was placed diagonally aside. In the light of the moon, surrounded by mist, the mist vaguely seemed to form a human form on the body of the knife, a wonderful beauty, but if you look closely, it is just a rolling mist. Sen Luo didn't care, the skeletal warrior just casually kneaded the clay washed down by the wind and rain in the small pavilion with demonic power, and in Sen Luo's skeletal hand, the mud was wet and pinched into a Xun the size of a goose egg. A fire was born in Sen Luo's hand, and while dispersing the mist around his palm, he also dried and hardened the mud and turned it into pottery.

Sen Luo placed the pottery Xun in front of the skeleton's teeth, and a quaint and desolate voice sounded from the goose-egg-sized Xun. Even if there is no physical body, only skeletons and bones remain, Sen Luo can still mobilize demonic energy to play. "Without him, just talk about **." The skeletal warrior let out a low laugh and muttered to himself. Then the skeleton warrior was immersed in this free playing. There is no face, and I don't know if Sen Luo is concentrating or wandering, in short, the sound of Xun is just like this in this unoccupied place.

Out of nowhere, there was the sound of the shakuhachi that should be wake, which did not startle Moriro, but played with the sound very casually. This music is meant to flow out of the heart at will, and naturally it is not a tune. The faint beauty of the mist leaned against the skeletal samurai, as if she had a disdain for the music. It's true, although it's simple and desolate, but in fact, Senluo doesn't blow it well. "It's all over the place. Since there is no alcohol, then it is better to use Zen as wine. The skeleton also smiled, put down Tao Xun, and sat directly in the corridor, but he went to Zen with this posture.