"Crack!"
A flash of cold light, and the trees toppled.
The wild branches were carved into twisted wooden spikes, embedded in the soil.
Warriors moved among the corpses, cutting off the heads of the dead Mountain Ghosts, crushing them onto the wooden spikes like sunflowers for seeds, the scent of blood soared into the sky.
On the heads, the crimson faded, revealing pus-yellow eyes, thick black blood stained the snow, the Mountain Ghosts' skin seemed like dried bark, fixed on the spikes, resembling wooden piles.
A glance revealed some spikes pierced more, some less, densely forming a haunting scene.
"This Mountain Ghost was killed by me! My name is carved on the arrowhead!"
"Nonsense, my arrow is on the corpse too, clearly I killed it, teacher!"
"Sir!"
The two disputing raised their hands simultaneously.
