Squish!
Squish!
Footsteps sounded without end, chillingly cold in the rain.
At that moment, Fang Yang seemed to have become a god of slaughter. Wherever he passed, every Vengeful Ghost died.
Even the rain began to dissolve away.
The woman with the Paper Umbrella had remained composed all along, but the instant she saw this, her pupils contracted sharply. Her face filled with horror, and for a moment, she could not believe her eyes.
Her face turned deathly pale, and the Paper Umbrella in her hand wobbled precariously, as though it would fall at any moment.
"H-how could this happen?"
She murmured, her voice trembling.
She had never imagined that a human could be so powerful.
After all, this ink-wash painting was the strongest means the Drizzle Forbidden Land could currently bring to bear.
Even a Four-Leaf Peak existence would be sealed within the ink-wash painting the instant they entered it, then die inside.
Yet now, that supposed seal looked so fragile before this human, like thin paper, seemingly torn to shreds with ease.
Under her terrified gaze, Fang Yang remained expressionless and merely said coldly,
"Whether it's the Underworld Race or the Demon Race, I couldn't be bothered with you. So why must you provoke me? You even want to slaughter my disciples. Are you worthy?"
His quiet murmur suddenly rang out beneath the torrential rain like great bronze bells.
It was so resounding that it nearly deafened her.
The woman with the Paper Umbrella shuddered, feeling a terrifying aura lock her in place.
Then the Paper Umbrella in her hand began to sway slowly, cracks spreading across it.
It seemed about to shatter on the spot.
This umbrella was her Soul Lamp.
It was the foundation on which her survival and cultivation depended. If the umbrella shattered, she,