The moment the woman died, she instantly reverted to her original form, a small red-haired fox.
Nezha carried the little fox and walked further inside, the surroundings were vaguely moving, not quiet at all.
He took a deep breath, only to find a stench filled his nostrils, causing his eyebrows to furrow even more tightly.
Nezha disliked slaughter, whether the ones dying by his hand were humans, demons, or Yaksha, it all made him feel nauseous. However, he understood that these methods were necessary, thus he constantly reminded himself to be more ruthless, not to have a trace of a compassionate Holy Mother's heart.
But he also understood something else, needing to constantly remind himself meant that he wasn't ruthless enough.
Thinking of the word 'compassion', the bald head of Wu Xiang flashed in his mind.
