"Sword Qi River!"
Jingshui raised his bamboo staff, and tens of thousands of streams of sword qi turned into a long river that completely drowned Yang Shenwu.
With a bang, crimson blood exploded outward, carrying a thick, fishy stench.
Putting away his bamboo staff, Jingshui frowned as he looked at the flesh and blood Yang Shenwu had left behind. He felt that there seemed to be something off about this Yang Shenwu—not only Yang Shenwu, but also Zhang Xian, whom he had killed earlier, and those Blood Puppets. They all made him feel extremely strange.
"What's wrong with him?" Jingshui asked.
Yue E came to his side with a pale face, her voice still cold and clear as she said, "This is a method of the Wuchang Ghost Sect. They refine people into Blood Corpse Puppets and Yin Soldiers."
"Yin Soldiers?" Jingshui still did not understand.
"Mm. They plant a divine-soul restriction in the Sea of Consciousness, then temper the body with Xue Sha Qi and Yin Sha Qi. Although this can improve physique and strength, you saw it too—they've lost a martial artist's sharp edge!" Yue E said.
Jingshui realized. "So that's how it is!"
He had just felt that something was off. So it was because the strength Yang Shenwu and Zhang Xian had showed was far below what he had expected.
"Your condition doesn't seem very good!" Jingshui looked toward Yue E and said.
"Your condition doesn't seem good either!" Yue E said.
At this moment, the two of them looked more miserable than the other. Yue E's face was pale, her breathing unsteady, and her cold, clear eyes were dim and lightless, without the slightest aura a Divine Soul Realm Martial Artist should have.
Jingshui, meanwhile, wore tattered old clothes. His hair was withered, his face