The walking corpses howled.
They charged out from the spreading blood-red haze, endless in number.
Ghost Holy Son let out a heavy cold snort.
He commanded, "Tear him to pieces for me."
Seeing this, Xu Zimo merely shook his head slightly.
These blood-red walking corpses were not ordinary illusions or constructs condensed from blood qi.
They were real corpses.
For every person Ghost Holy Son killed, he refined them into his own walking corpses.
This cultivation technique of the ghost race could be called utterly vicious.
It defied the heavenly dao, denying people peace even in death.
"Don't be so anxious. Before long, you'll become my next Walking Corpse too."
Ghost Holy Son snorted. "With your strength, refining you would make you quite a decent thug."
Xu Zimo did not answer him.
Instead, with a wave of his right hand, the boundless blood qi surged toward him.
He opened his mouth, and before Ghost Holy Son's dumbfounded eyes, swallowed every last trace of the blood-red vapor.
Xu Zimo licked his lips.
"Blood qi of this level is nothing more than a drizzle."
Without the blood-red support, all those walking corpses collapsed to the ground.
For the force sustaining them had been that blood-red current.
"Y-you... what did you do?" Ghost Holy Son's expression changed drastically.
"That's impossible. It can't be possible."
"There has never been anything impossible in this world. You are merely short-sighted and have never witnessed the terror of heaven and earth."
Xu Zimo shook his head and asked calmly.
He extended his right palm, blood-red light spreading across it.
Under his command, the fallen walking corpses all rose to their feet.
"Have a taste of your own methods," Xu Zimo said with a wave of his hand.
He shouted, "Kill him."
Countless walking corpses pounced toward Ghost