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"?"

Rooted to the spot, he spun around to gaze upon the statues—enormous and imposing—arrayed like silent sentinels along the cobblestone pathway.

"Alive...?"

Compelled by a mixture of curiosity and dread, Wang Xiao approached the towering figures.

Each statue, cold and immovable, betrayed no hint of life, as if each were merely a prisoner of stone.

He tapped, and listened at their bases, but each test returned the same silent rebuke.

There was no life to be found, or so it seemed.

Until a subtle oddity caught his eye.

"ᛏᚺᚢ Ξύπνα!" — "Har-thu Xypna!"

"!!"

His eyes snapped open wide, pierced by the eerie, melodious chant that seemed to rise from the very stones beneath his feet, and he recoiled, a shiver racing down his spine.

"ᚹᛖᛊ Αίθερ!" — "Ba-sen Kha Wes Aither!"

"What!?" Wang Xiao whispered, his voice laced with disbelief, as the ghostly words continued to resonate within his mind long after he had walked away.

These were the very words he had encountered back on Earth, words that Aurora had ominously described as the sinister call of death!

A sudden chill coursed through his veins, a sense that this eerie moment was only the beginning of something far darker.

"!"

"ᚨᛉᚱ Ἄνεμος!" — "Djed-Sen Azr Anemos!"

"!"

"ᛁᚾᚷᚹᚨᛉ Ὁρα!" — "Ankh-mer Ingwaz Hora!"

"!"

As each ancient chant begin, the sounds became more profound and haunting, echoing continuously in Wang Xiao\'s head.

He intended to retreat, yet his feet were trapped by the cold cobblestones, as if rooted by unseen forces.

Arrayed before him, four colossal stone statues grew ominously, their presence overwhelming.

They seemed to scrutinize him, their impassive stone faces peering into the depths of his soul, sending a shiver of dread down his spine.

Though his back was turned to the path behind, he felt the oppressive aura of four similar, yet distinct monuments arrayed like silent sentinels.

Each exuded a growing intensity, wrapping Wang Xiao in a cloak of cold sweat and apprehension, as if they too were watching, waiting.

"ᛏᚺᚢ Ξύπνα!" — "Har-thu Xypna!"

"Aither!"

"Aither!"

"Aither!"

Wang Xiao\'s eyes snapped wide open; he clutched at his head, staggering backwards as if pushed by an unseen force.

Suddenly, the world around him plunged into darkness, and he could sense eight pairs of eyes encircling him in that void, darting around like ghosts in the night.

"Aither!"

"Aither!"

"Aither!"

It felt as if thousands of tons of invisible pressure were crushing him.

Yin Yue\'s voice tried to go through the darkness, her calls urgent as she tried to rouse him.

Yet, she sensed nothing amiss herself.

Meanwhile, Wang Xiao seemed utterly possessed—overwhelmed by the force seizing him.

His veins protruded starkly, his muscles tensed to their limits, and sweat drenched his entire body, painting a picture of a man caught in the throes of a terrifying and unseen battle.

Thud!

"Huh?"

Wang Xiao abruptly woke up, unconciously taking deep breaths, his eyes quivering, as he felt something strike against his back, he turned around his heart beating loudly muting all other sounds.

"!!"

There he saw it!

Among the bushes, there were smaller monuments.

Half broken and disfigured, with the eyes still vivid, the rest of monuments as if carved out of white marble, yet the eyes vivid and moving, bleeding, as the red blood seemed to flood down, and glancing down he found the blood continuing to flood, until half of his foot was submerged.

"!!"

Thud!

"Huh?" Wang Xiao gasped, snapping awake.

He drew deep, shuddering breaths, his eyes flickering with panic.

A sudden, forceful impact against his back had jerked him from the darkness of his nightmare.

Turning around, his heart pounded furiously, its beats muting all other sounds.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"!!"

Hidden among the dense underbrush, he found an array of smaller, forsaken monuments.

These statues were not only broken and disfigured but carried an aura of ancient divinity, each resembling deities revered back on Earth and some even beyond his recognition.

The first, with serene, compassionate eyes and a tranquil demeanor, clearly mirrored the visage of Buddha.

Beside it, a robust figure with a mighty beard and a countenance full of stormy judgment could be none other than Zeus with his commanding presence, and Shiva with his intricate dance posture, all half-broken yet imposing.

A nearby figure bore the thorn-crowned, sorrowful face of Jesus, his expression one of profound forgiveness mixed with deep suffering.

Amid these familiar icons stood figures Wang Xiao couldn\'t place—ancient deities whose names were lost to time.

One statue, with a lion\'s head and a warrior\'s body, might have been Maahes, an ancient Egyptian lion-god of war.

Another depicted a figure draped in exotic, flowing robes, adorned with symbols that suggested it might represent Anahita, the Persian goddess of fertility and water.

As he watched, the statues\' eyes—crafted from what appeared to be pristine white marble—shifted subtly, unnervingly alive.

Then, tears began to form, welling up in their carved eyes before spilling over.

These were not ordinary tears but blood, thick and crimson, that streamed down their cheeks in streams, staining their marble skin.

The scene became even more haunting as the statues cried their bloody tears, the fluid gathering and flowing eerily across the ground.

The blood pooled around Wang Xiao\'s feet, rising slowly to submerge half of his shoe in a chilling embrace.

"!!"

Yin Yue\'s voice, soft yet tinged with urgency, broke through his shock. "Wang Xiao, what is happening? You screamed..."

He turned to her, his face ashen, unable to tear his gaze away from the bleeding effigies. "These statues... they\'re alive! And they\'re crying, can you see?"

Yin Yue\'s voice broke through Wang Xiao\'s trance, tinged with confusion. [W... Which statues, where!?]

She felt a peculiar chill in the air, yet her eyes saw nothing out of the ordinary: Wang Xiao staring blankly at some vines twining around a small, broken fountain, from which a naked angel statue gently spouted water.

The origin of the water was obscure, its destination even more so. The fountain bore a resemblance to a larger one near the Asmodeus mansion in Romania—a link to another world, perhaps.

Yet, for Wang Xiao, the reality was starkly different.

The blood from the statues\' eyes continued to seep across the cobblestones, spreading out to form a reflective, crimson pool that shimmered under the subdued light, like a haunting mirror reflecting a forgotten celestial struggle.

Before long, the bloodied mirror at his feet began to swirl with visions of battle.

Wang Xiao couldn\'t recognize any of the figures reflected in the crimson pool, but each image portrayed battles so grand they surpassed even the grandest of Earth\'s legends.

"These battles... are they from past, or warnings of what\'s to come?" Wang Xiao whispered, half to himself, half hoping the statues might offer an answer.

The blood continued to flow, more profuse with each passing moment, as if the gods themselves were bleeding out their ancient grief and rage onto the earth below.