Like a god spreading death, Lin Qi wore a tattered gray cloak that bore a strong undead air about it, leading a vast pack of vicious subordinates across the Myriad Spirits Continent. Whether undead or gods, anyone he could take down along the way was slaughtered without exception.
The entire battle plan had been devised by Hu Xinzhu. Lin Qi knew where the tastiest soft persimmons were, and which ones he could attack without drawing the immediate attention of powerful Main Gods. Thus, Lin Qi's raids went exceptionally smoothly. In just a few days, he had killed over a hundred and thirty High-Gods from various divine pantheons. Among them were fifteen gods bearing the title of Main God who were somewhat weaker and of lower status.
As for the Mid-Gods and lower-ranking divine servants, no one even knew how many had died by his hand.
But the entire Undead Continent had descended into war. Enormous elemental tides churned everywhere, while a heavy Deathly Canopy blanketed the skies above the Undead Continent. Communication among the gods had become extraordinarily difficult. Though so many gods had been ambushed and slain by Lin Qi, no one had noticed their deaths at all.
Lin Qi alone left the gods of the Ashir Divine Clan untouched. On the contrary, whenever some weaker Ashir Divine Clan gods ran into trouble, he would alter his appearance, conceal his aura, and lend them a hand. Thus, every god of the Ashir Divine Clan remained alive and well—and their gains were immense. The treasure vaults accumulated over thousands or tens of thousands of years by many undead lords had been opened by them, leaving them with bowls overflowing and bags bulging.
The allied armies of the gods rampaged across the Undead Continent, driving vast numbers of troops to sweep