Yang Fan stumbled upon success accidentally, like a blind cat catching a dead mouse, but it actually worked.
The wooden mace landed squarely on the creature's forehead. Sparks flew like an electric short circuit, crackling and exploding. The sparks traveled from its skull all the way to its feet, igniting the dry leaves around them into a smoldering blaze.
At that moment, Yang Fan finally got a clear view of what in the hell this thing was.
An outrageously grotesque dry corpse.
The thing was dressed in funeral robes soaked with black grease, its body desiccated and stick-thin. The skin on its face looked like it had been completely dried out, clinging tightly to the bones. Its eye sockets were cavernous, its nostrils gaping, and its black teeth jutted out irregularly and hideously.
The only part of it that seemed remotely intact was its eyes.
The rest of its features looked thoroughly mummified, but its eyes remained normal and could still swivel around actively.
