"They were drained," Han Yu muttered, finding it familiar. "Not this isn't Madam Cold Fang... The corpses of the Hall Master were not drained of blood and were frozen from inside out. These just froze normally." He observed.
He straightened and looked around.
The arrangement was not random.
The bodies formed shapes.
Symbols.
Not ones he recognized, but ones that clearly meant something to whoever had made them.
Some were arranged into circles with beasts on the outside and humans inside.
Some were stacked to form crude totems, alternating between human and beast.
Others were laid flat, forming long lines that pointed toward the deeper mountains.
A ritual.
A display.
Or both.
Han Yu felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.
He released his spirit sense again, carefully sweeping the area.
There was nothing nearby.
But the feeling of unease grew stronger.
This was not the work of ordinary beasts.
Not even of normal cultivators.
