A mass of black fog swarmed out, wrapping his entire body. Not only the old man, but the several Lihe Realm cultivators beside him were also dumbstruck. This man was clearly a cultivator of the Daoist School, so how...
As everyone knew, righteous and demonic arts countered each other; these cultivation methods could not be practiced together. Yet the scene unfolding before their eyes had shattered that common sense.
With a flick of Lin Xuan's sleeve, Ghost Mist surged out, spinning and flickering as it formed a vortex.
It was bottomless, the depths within utterly dark and profound.
Then a ghastly pale bone hand stretched out from inside.
Its surface was even wrapped in eerie green Ghost Fire. One glance was enough to tell it was an evil thing from the Underworld Realm.
"It really is a Ghost Path art!"
Facts spoke louder than eloquence. Even if it defied common sense, the thing was laid out plainly before their eyes. Could they really keep their eyes open and refuse to acknowledge it?
The old man was also shocked pale, but he soon regained his composure. So what if his opponent knew Ghost Path divine abilities? At a glance, it was something he had crammed at the last moment before battle. How could it compare with a secret art he had painstakingly cultivated for a hundred years?
This secret art of the Nether Ghost Claw was something even a fellow late-stage cultivator would absolutely not dare to take lightly upon encountering. Its might was so great that it was no weaker than a natal Dharma Treasure.
He wanted to defeat his enemy in one move, and this brat actually dared to clash head-on with him?
He did not know whether he lived or died. Arrogance came with a price.
A sinister