TAP, TAP, TAP. The steady, rhythmic striking of the wooden fish caused Li Huowang's temper to flare.
"Li Sui, let's go! Let's see what kind of monsters and demons we're dealing with!" Li Huowang pulled several swords from under his pillow and, with Li Sui at his side, sprinted across the roof tiles toward the sound.
He quickly found its source. It was a group of monks—or more accurately, monks as thin as skeletons.
These monks sat cross-legged at the entrance to the village, striking their wooden fish in a relentless rhythm. The refugees nearby seemed to be awake, but they didn't dare peek, burying their heads deep in the straw and shivering uncontrollably.
The moment Li Huowang appeared, the monks turned in unison to look at him. Some didn't use their eyes but the ritual burn marks on their heads; on others, eye stalks wriggled in and out of their skulls like maggots.
"Amitabha. Greetings, Benefactor."
