As the ancient syllables fell.
The skull ornament atop the staff exploded with a deafening blast.
As bone fragments flew in every direction, three ghostly green streaks erupted simultaneously from the shattered remains.
The three streaks rapidly expanded in midair, taking shape and manifesting as three complete humanoid figures.
Two men and one woman, their bodies translucent ghostly green, their faces blurred as though veiled behind dense fog.
Yet the auras each emitted were unmistakably at the peak of the Third Heaven Quasi-Saint Realm.
All three wore battle robes from different eras and in different styles, each wielding a different weapon.
One gripped a crescent-shaped short blade, one raised a bone shield and bone spear, while the third hovered in the air with ash-gray undead chains coiled between both hands.
The three Third Heaven Quasi-Saint undead attacked at once.
The curved-blade undead flickered like a ghost to Yan Ting's back. An exceedingly thin ash-gray edge condensed at the tip of its short blade and stabbed toward his heart from behind.
Yan Ting had no choice but to abandon that punch. He spun around and struck out with his palm, his lightning palm colliding with the short blade and knocking the curved-blade undead back several steps.
But that ash-gray edge also sliced open the edge of his palm, and the blood seeping from the wound carried a faint trace of black qi.
The bone-shield undead had already charged straight at him with its shield raised, its bone spear thrusting forward to pierce Yan Ting's chest and abdomen.
Dense deathly aura coiled around that bone spear. Wherever its tip passed, even space was dyed ash-gray.
Yan Ting twisted aside to evade the spearpoint, then smashed his right fist into the bone shield, leaving a dent in its surface.
But the bone-shield undead's