As the coffin lid was kicked away, a figure flew into the air from the stone coffin.
It was a man wearing an ancient general's armor-or, more precisely, a corpse.
His face was identical to Zhao Polu's in the murals along the tomb passage, but his skin was an even deeper, ashen gray. His lips were black, and his eyes were entirely blood-red, flashing with a vicious gleam as though ready to devour anyone.
"That's a Flying Jiangshi! He's the real Zhao Polu. Over a thousand years, the occultist Nether King refined him into an SS-Rank Flying Jiangshi!" Wang Zhenshan's expression instantly grew extremely grave. "We're in trouble now!"
The Flying Jiangshi Zhao Polu hovered in midair, his blood-red eyes sweeping over everyone. A hoarse growl filled with murderous intent rose from his throat. "You dare trespass in this general's tomb? Die!"
Before his words had finished, terrifying domain power erupted around him.
Unlike the giant tiger's simple erosion by baleful energy, this domain power condensed into almost tangible, blood-black corpse mist that crushed outward with overwhelming force.
Wherever the corpse mist passed, the stone floor slabs sizzled as they corroded. The scattered weapons and armor acquired a layer of dark red rust the instant the mist touched them.
The temperature throughout the hall abruptly dropped to freezing. The air filled with the heavy reek of blood and rotting corpses, and every breath felt like inhaling tiny shards of ice.
"Everyone, defend!" Wang Zhenshan shouted. A golden Warhammer formed in his hand, and his battle intent domain instantly spread out. Golden light collided with the blood-black corpse mist, producing a piercing hiss.
This time, however, the golden light that had always prevailed was steadily compressed, barely protecting the three feet around him.
Han Yi's blade edge domain spread out immediately