One day later, Formless Mountain.
This was a mountain of ghosts and monsters, soaring ten thousand meters high. Its terrain was treacherous and barren, and above its summit hung a black hole connected to hell. From ancient times to the present, this had been a place where humanity had vanished without a trace—utterly devoid of life, steeped in eerie ghostly aura.
But today was different. Qingyang City's army had arrived in full force, its overwhelming momentum sending countless Nether Ghosts fleeing in panic.
Unfortunately, before those Nether Ghosts could escape, Xia Ping made his move. In an instant, he froze the ten-thousand-meter mountain into an iceberg. Everything within the mountain was frozen into ice sculptures.
As for the Nether Ghosts left behind to guard the place, they naturally could not escape either. The Qingyang City soldiers who charged up the mountain slaughtered them. However, there were not many stationed Nether Ghosts—merely ten thousand or so—and their strength was ordinary.
Thus, Xia Ping did not gain much soul energy, though it was better than nothing.
The Qingyang City soldiers found it deeply regrettable. They had originally wanted to display their martial valor before Lord Xia by slaying Nether Ghosts, but before they could act, Lord Xia had already wiped them out.
All they could do was clean out Formless Mountain, loot its treasures, and haul them back from the mountain—doing the work of porters.
"It seems these Nether Ghosts truly collected quite a few treasures."
Xia Ping arrived at an open area where a vast amount of treasure transported from Formless Mountain's treasury had been piled up. The first thing he noticed was a huge slab of black jade placed to one side.
It was actually a bed, found in the Formless Ghost King's room. It exuded a terrifying nether aura;