She forced open his mouth and poured the contents of the vial into it.

Emerie said, her voice as weak as a murmur, “Take this as my final act of kindness. These pills will heal your neural pathways. There might be adverse effects, but you will live on..."

The next second, Emerie's head dropped to the ground, her body motionless.

Emerie passed away before the chief, who now writhed on the ground, her movements resembling those of a bug in flames, both hideous and pitiful.

The witches below stood stunned, their illusions shattered as they realized their chief's deception. Promises of everlasting youth and immortality fell to dust. Their chief had been nothing more than a skillful liar, shrouded in mystical deceit.

The strong odor of burning flesh disturbed the parasites in the trees overhead.

The air crackled as the parasites' shells burst open. Countless parasites plummeted to the earth, their legs moving frantically as they sought new hosts among the human scents.

Panic ensued among the witches as they scattered in chaos.

The senior man on the tree branch looked down at the ensuing chaos.

With the chief's demise, a deep void filled him. He whispered, “Flee, flee, for soon this place will be nothing but ruins..."

However, his voice was drowned out by the chaos.

The senior man watched the turmoil unfold, his laughter spreading across the woods like the eerie song of a lunatic. "My dear son, did you witness that from heaven? I have avenged you. Rest peacefully. In our next life, will you be my son once more..."

Meanwhile, Nicole and Roscoe remained restrained at the lotus altar, caught in their own dire predicament.

Roscoe, after swallowing the potent pills, experienced a fierce internal struggle. Although the pills were intended to heal, they needed time to integrate. He needed to remain still and allow the medicine to integrate deeply into his system, but the immediate crisis demanded action.

His body felt incredibly heavy, each movement a strenuous task.

Despite his efforts to free himself and rescue Nicole, his attempts were in vain. His limbs felt like they were treading on clouds, completely devoid of strength.

With a voice strained and faint, Roscoe said to Nicole, "Nicole, can you get free? I might not be much help."

Nicole, with her teeth clenched, struggled against her own bindings.

The wire dug painfully into her skin, burning sharply. To soothe Roscoe, she said confidently, though it was a lie, “It's okay. I think I can manage."

Left with no other choice, Nicole bit her lip, shut her eyes tight, and gave her bound hand a fierce tug.