The phantoms seemed like ghosts crawling out from an ancient abyss, wantonly drifting in the deep, dim passageway. Their forms twisted, sometimes stretching out like slender threads, sometimes curling up into blurry spheres, emitting strange sounds; akin to the whistling of wind through a worn-out bellows, or the low, mournful wails of ghosts, echoing continuously in the silent passage, sending chills down one's spine.
Lin Yue clung tightly to Shen Jingqi, her hands unconsciously gripping the corner of his clothes, her voice tinged with a slight tremor: "What are these phantoms? Will they attack us? They look so terrifying, what if they suddenly pounce on us and..." She dared not continue, her eyes filled with fear and unease.
