Yellow rain fell in scattered sheets.
Those ancient ghost soldiers, whose origins were unknown, carried rusted rifles and wore tattered uniforms as they patrolled streets where no one had been alive for endless years.
Although the blood-red lightning that split the sky had been extinguished by the experts from the Shore Flower,
streetlamps began lighting up one after another throughout the city. Their dim white glow replaced the crisscrossing flashes of thunder and illuminated the roads, making the shadowless ghost soldiers appear even more bizarre.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
One hundred meters... fifty meters... thirty meters...
As the four approached the city gate, the ghost soldiers patrolling inside also stopped moving. Like spirit tablets enshrined in ancestral halls, they stared lifelessly at the group.
"I can't sense any Supernatural Aura."
"Very strange. They aren't as cold and sinister as Vicious Ghosts. They seem more like ordinary corpses."
The group of four was quite interesting.
A young man, a middle-aged man, an old man, and a woman. Perhaps they had deliberately formed such a combination to test whether different ages and genders would lead to different changes.
Then again,
in the Supernatural Circle, age couldn't be taken at face value.
Anyone who reached the Eighth Tier, despite appearing young, was at least an old monster who had lived for two or three hundred years.
But generally speaking,
some Supernatural Events did indeed launch attacks based on their targets' appearances.
Could that count as being appearance-conscious?
"Get ready."
The middle-aged man took a deep breath and had already activated the supernatural power within his body, preparing to fight these ghost soldiers at any moment.
However,
when they entered this enormous city and prepared for battle,
the gloomy, shadowy ghost soldiers did not attack them. They merely watched them with dim