Ghost Head threw back his head and laughed. Such a fine magical treasure was nothing but a waste in the other party's hands.
A reckless waste of heavenly gifts—let this Corpse Venerable send you on your way.
The vicious aura all over him seemed almost solid. The sharp single horn on his forehead shrank inward, then suddenly shot out.
The pitch-black, fierce gleam became a thread of dark, cold light, moving with astonishing speed. How could the bald cultivator possibly react in time? He had no chance at all to use any defensive method.
His Spirit Power Shield was even more like paper. With a wail, it was shattered by the fierce assault.
Pfft...
Blood filled the sky. The bald cultivator's eyes lost their luster, yet still held disbelief as he looked down.
His left chest had been pierced through by the sharp horn, his heart already crushed to pieces. That crimson blood was so glaring to the eye.
His strength drained away, and he turned into a corpse. Yet this was only the beginning...
That Ghost Horn seemed to carry demonic power, instantly sucking in his vital blood.
Flesh and blood vanished. In the air, only a skeleton remained, and at the chest and abdomen of that skeleton was a jewel the size of a dragon's eye.
The jewel emitted a deep, ghostly luster. That was naturally the cultivator's Golden Core!
With a flash of black light, Ghost Head had already flown close. Opening his great mouth, he swallowed the Golden Core down.
A satisfied look appeared on his face.
Then his eyes shone brightly as he fixed them on another prey.
The old man was so frightened his heart and guts were both splitting apart. Though the bald cultivator's divine abilities were not as great as his own,