As the mask neared his face, it grew warmer, and began to squirm. A bloody aura emanated from it. Just as Meng Hao was about to place it on his face, the copper mirror within his bag of holding suddenly let out a sharp sound that was like the call of a bird.
The birdcall entered Meng Hao’s mind, and his heart trembled. The light in his eyes suddenly became clear, and he suddenly put the mask down. His eyes filled with a hard look.
“Are you looking to die, you discarnate soul?!”