Tang San's Frenzied Massacre, Spirit Hall's Fury

Star Dou Great Forest.

A figure stood in the middle of a clearing deep within the forest.

Tang San was shrouded in a layer of gray-black mist. Six gray soul rings rotated slowly around him, radiating a deathly stillness that seemed to swallow light.

The ground beneath his feet had completely cracked, its dry soil looking as though every drop of moisture had been drained away.

Within several miles, the trees had withered, the flowers and grass had died, and even the moss on the ground had turned grayish white.

It was as if all life in this area had been completely sucked away by something.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The air was thick with the scent of soul beast blood and lingering vitality. To him, it was as sweet as spring water.

He flexed his fingers, and gray-black demon grass spread from his palms. Like countless greedy tentacles, it slowly slipped into the cracks in the ground and searched deeper below.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes.

"Found it."

In the bushes a hundred yards ahead, a three-thousand-year Shadow Demon Wolf was curled beneath the roots of a tree, trembling violently.

It could sense danger approaching, but the terror rooted deep in its bloodline had completely overwhelmed it. It wanted to flee, yet its limbs had gone so weak that it could not move a single step.

Tang San walked toward it. He did not deliberately quicken his pace, moving neither fast nor slow, as if he were merely taking a stroll.

Yet with every step he took, the gray-black demon grass beneath his feet quietly spread outward, like a woven net of death sealing off every possible escape route for its prey.

The Shadow Demon Wolf let out a low whimper, its fur standing