The Ghost Race Emperor's Shock

The phantom of the Greedy Demon God behind Lu Yuan stood towering between heaven and earth, yet remained somewhat indistinct.

After all, he had to stay wary of this Old Geezer. He could not reveal all his trump cards.

The little shadow narrowed its eyes, scrutinized it for a few moments, then said in a disappointed tone, "Sigh, kid, am I seeing this right? Is this the Heavenly Manifestation you developed?"

"Isn't this just some old trick from the First Era?"

"I have to say, you Ink Sect people may all be extraordinarily talented, but your thinking is incredibly backward. What era is this, and you're still playing with this mysterious nonsense?"

"No matter how strong your Heavenly Manifestation is, matching a ghost is already its limit... Give me enough blood sacrifice energy, and I could crush you like a bug in minutes."

It stretched out a shriveled, slender arm and made a pinching gesture, looking rather pleased with itself. "You made this thing just to show off in front of me? What an idiot. By the way, where did that Profound Yellow Qi of yours come from? Is there a New World nearby?"

"Profound Yellow Qi is an incredible tonic, far superior to blood sacrifice energy."

Just give me a tiny bit, and I can provide you with tremendous help.

Its voice became ethereal again, carrying a faintly coaxing quality, though not too obvious. After all, it had just been slapped.

"Beep beep!" The Weaver, listening from the side, could not help howling. It laughed so hard it was nearly rolling around—whether it was laughing at the little shadow or mocking Lu Yuan was unclear.

Lu Yuan was also stunned by its answer.

He felt he might have overestimated this "Ghost Race Emperor." It could not even recognize an