"In this world, there is no one who is indispensable to death."
Ying Xiu's loose, jet-black hair danced wildly behind him like serpents.
As he walked slowly, he lifted his right foot heavily upon the diminutive ghoul, crushing it into a wisp of shadowy mist that dispersed.
From all directions, the limp, dead-silent ghouls were enveloped by the dissipating shadowy mist.
Under the dim light, their eyes slowly sparked with a crimson glow, itching to move.
Influenced by Ying Xiu's aura, the ghost army surrounding them did not immediately advance to attack but hovered at a distance.
As the lord of this space with the power of life and death, Ying Xiu seemed to be toying like a cat with a mouse, a cruel, mocking smile playing at the corners of his lips.
He came before Baili An, just about to speak, when he suddenly sensed a sharp, icy gaze cutting coldly towards him.
