From afar, Xiang Donglai, who was directing the battle, finally came to his senses after witnessing the astonishing scene. Only then did he understand why Ancestor Xiang Huaxin had treated the Eastern Grandmaster with such courtesy. It turned out that the eighteen war-god-like puppets controlled by the Eastern Grandmaster were what could truly suppress the Purple Crocodile Ghost Lord.
"Purple Crocodile Ghost Lord, you coward hiding in your shell! Dare you fight?" As the commander of the battle, Xiang Donglai immediately grasped Lu Xiaotian's intent and issued the order. Thousands upon thousands of human cultivators shouted in unison.
The surging tide of their voices struck the ghost race even harder than the arrows streaking through the sky. Though the ghosts were unwilling to believe it, those eighteen golden men had already rampaged through several enormous ghost ships, leaving heaps of dead and wounded in their wake. The cold truth was a hundred times harsher than any slogan.
"Boy, you're asking for death!" Hidden beneath the rolling bone wheels, the Purple Crocodile Ghost Lord's eyes blazed with murderous intent. He had originally planned to stay hidden for as long as possible, using the great formation to absorb more ghost power. But judging by the situation now, if he did not show himself soon, they would be routed even faster than he had imagined. This silver-haired boy was merely a Nascent Soul Cultivator, yet he was not only audacious but as sharp as a needle. The Ghost Lord could not even hide for a little longer.
Even while the eighteen golden men attacked several of the ghost race's white-bone warships, Lu Xiaotian and Xiang Qingcheng had never been left alone. They remained under the golden men's protection at all times.
"Though the eighteen golden men are formidable, a Nascent Soul Cultivator's reaction