“Oh my, this is tricky. This thing... breaking free might be a bit difficult.”
I immediately summoned my willpower, prompting Hell's Sentinel on my back to react. With a swish, Hell's Sentinel flew out, aiming for the red chains binding Coco Wu. Clang—a clean cut was impossible. These chains were absorbing our ghostly energy.
The floating, multicolored Wraith Box before us began to grow, larger and larger. At last, I could see it clearly—it was rectangular, with each of its six faces engraved with patterns. Every surface depicted ghosts. On the side facing us were two horned, long-tongued red and blue demons.
Below was a horde of pale Hungry Ghosts, seemingly feasting on something. As the box grew, I saw it clearly—it was a person. The engravings showed the Hungry Ghosts, ravenous and desperate, crowding around a terrified human.
Coco Wu's aura was growing weaker, and as long as we remained bound, any ghostly energy that leaked out was instantly absorbed by the Wraith Box.
“What exactly is this thing?”
I asked quickly. The Wraith Enforcer seemed lost in thought, while the Ghost Painting Book Immortal chuckled.
“Judging by the inscriptions, this must be something from a very distant era. As for what it is specifically, even I don't know. But it seems to be some sort of triggered trap.”
Isabelle Frost frowned deeply, clearly pondering a solution. But just then, Deathcurse suddenly snapped his own chain with a loud crack. In a flash, he moved to the now-faintly transparent Coco Wu and broke her chains too. One by one, he freed all of us, then leapt up and pressed a hand to the Wraith Box before us. Gradually, the Wraith Box began to shrink, returning to its original size—about as tall as a person's knee.
“It's over, little sister. It's all right now.”