The Slaughter Dance Troupe Is Born!
The long wind swept on.
The dragon soared ceaselessly through the ashen sky.
It let out a long, drawn-out dragon's roar that lasted dozens of breaths.
The music continued without pause.
The melody grew more and more intense.
Gu Qingshan stood among the skeletons, sweating profusely as he performed every move.
No matter which direction he looked, which undead he nodded at, which group of undead he waved to, or even if he merely glanced their way—
The charging undead immediately dropped their weapons, then stumbled into the River of Death, bereft of their senses. The river water spat them back out, and they knelt on the surface.
The undead lost all their muscles, hair, and flesh, leaving nothing but white bones. They knelt devoutly before the troupe.
The more undead charged in, the more knelt before the troupe.
Amid the dragon's roar, the Light Flame Skeleton suddenly bellowed:
"Fall back! All of you, fall back! Don't enter the dance's range again!"
Atley echoed the order. "All undead, cease your attacks for now! Fall back—all of you!"
The Light Flame Skeleton, still uneasy, immediately shouted again, "He can't unleash the full power of that dance yet. Everyone, get a hundred meters away!"
At the two of their orders, the undead stopped in their tracks, no longer trying to attack.
Aside from the bones kneeling before the troupe, the other undead soon withdrew beyond a hundred meters.
Watching this, Gu Qingshan felt a faint sense of regret.
He'd thought he could convert all the undead, but it seemed he'd run into an opponent who knew his stuff.
—The Light Flame Skeleton had spotted the dance's weakness at once.
That was right. The troupe had performed only one warm-up dance before immediately starting the main performance,