In the devastated mountain forest.
Although Xu Fu's phantom had already vanished.
A group of Netherworld Messengers and ghosts remained frozen in place, trembling with fear, not daring to move. Their bodies shook slightly, their faces full of unease and anxiety.
An oceanic pressure emanated from Jiang Chen.
Like a True Dragon roused to fury, every blink of his dark golden slit pupils brought an intense aura of death.
"Hehe~ heh~"
Strange laughter escaped his mouth. His neck slowly turned as he looked toward the group, undisguised bloodlust and madness in his eyes.
"Ghost Qi +..."
The ghosts and humans were nearly scared out of their minds.
They even felt that the phantom of the Ghost King that had descended here earlier was less terrifying than this man's current state.
"Run..."
"I don't want to die yet!"
"Jiang Chen, snap out of it..."
They wanted to speak, but their voices caught in their throats. They wanted to flee, only to discover that under this overwhelming pressure, they lacked even the courage to move.
It seemed that if they made the slightest rash movement, a gaping maw would descend and swallow them first!
Jiang Chen suddenly moved, walking toward them. With every step, the despair in their eyes deepened.
They could also tell that to contend with the Ghost King's phantom, Jiang Chen must have unleashed some unimaginable trump card.
The price was that he had lost all reason!
He was not fast. A journey of only a few minutes took him several minutes, and the Yin River beneath his feet advanced at a snail's pace alongside him.
But the terrified group failed to notice this.
Because Jiang Chen had already reached them, his stern face radiating a terrifying, mountain-like pressure.
As they watched him slowly raise Sledgehammer.
Every ghost and