The confusion on the middle-aged man's face had not yet completely faded.
The instant he saw dozens of Living Dead charging madly toward him, his expression changed abruptly, and his pupils contracted slightly.
But in the next moment, his expression was replaced by overwhelming sorrow and resentment.
He knew the appearances of these Living Dead all too well.
They were precisely his fellow disciples, who had been trapped here with him all those years ago!
The Living Dead moved with astonishing speed, their limbs twisted as if pulled by invisible threads.
Black mist surged around their bodies, taking the shape of claws and fangs. Trailing a foul, fishy wind, it surrounded the middle-aged man in the blink of an eye, forming an impenetrable wall of bodies.
Red light flickered in their eyes as they shrieked and pounced.
Their claws went straight for the middle-aged man's vital points, intent on tearing him apart and devouring him to seize the vitality and Immortal Light that drove them mad!
The middle-aged man drew a deep breath and swiftly gathered the complicated emotions in his eyes.
In their place was an icy resolve.
The next moment, an immense, unmatched wave of Divine Power erupted from his body.
It was the aura of a Peak Divine Emperor!
The air trembled violently beneath this pressure. The ground split with spiderweb-like cracks, and even the black mist around them was blasted back several feet.
He formed a hand seal with one hand and murmured an obscure incantation.
Streams of intertwined black-and-white divine light shot up from his palm. Like two great rivers flowing upstream, they rapidly took shape in the air.
In the blink of an eye, the illusory figures of more than a dozen Ghost Messengers appeared. They wore black robes and masks depicting blue-faced fangs.