During the battle, all the white mist here had been dispersed, yet when that figure emerged, no one could make it out clearly.
It seemed to remain shrouded in a layer of mist, indescribable.
Even whether it existed was difficult to determine, poised between illusion and reality.
It walked over, its blurry figure solidifying for an instant.
An unimaginably powerful pressure radiated from it.
Everyone involuntarily caught their breath.
The appearance of a Quasi-Ghost King was simply too staggering!
The Great Grandmasters began trembling despite themselves. Merely meeting its indistinct gaze made them feel as though some filth and curse were flowing into their pores.
It felt as though ten thousand ants were crawling inside their bodies.
An unspeakable fear spread through their hearts, as though their very existence would be "blurred" the next moment.
This was utterly terrifying. Even without actively unleashing it, a Quasi-Ghost King's curse affected everything around it at every moment.
The mist that had been dispersed earlier thickened again.
Pair after pair of eyes.
All stared at that figure with the deepest awe and fear.
To tread upon despair and calamity and ascend a throne forged from suffering was to become one of the most malevolent souls in the world.
And after reaching this point, one would willingly turn back to accept those memories one least wished to confront, utterly twisting oneself through repeated despair.
Then one would smash one's completely deformed soul apart inch by inch and cram it all into a ghost heart filled with filth and black blood, nurturing the ugliest flower in the world.
Only then would one become the most terrifying king among ten thousand ghosts!
A Quasi-Ghost King was an existence only that final step away from making the flower bloom.
At this stage, they were absolutely the most