Not only did it interrupt the ghost's words in an instant, but it also seemed to be stimulated, its wrist flicking slightly in the air, causing the whisk on the ground to slowly twist around the ghost's body.
The flying steel spikes had only pinned the ghostly figure down, but now, as they twisted, they completely distorted its appearance.
He felt as if countless sharp blades were repeatedly piercing through his invisible body.
This torture of being pricked with needles and twisted with swords truly took the life of the ghost.
The ghostly figure crawling on the ground had shrunk into a ball. Having been pierced by the whisk, he dared not utter another word to the blue-robed cultivator.
The enraged monk in blue robes was quite strange; upon seeing the ghostly figure struggling in agony,
A twisted look flashed in his eyes, as if he had witnessed something that pleased him deeply.
Even though the ghostly figure yielded, the blue-robed monk still showed no intention of letting him go.
He constantly swirled the whisk between his wrists, causing the ghostly figure to tremble incessantly and remain in a state of constant agony.
At this moment, the ghostly figure was filled with boundless hatred. It was certain that this fellow had suffered some misery somewhere and had come to the Rotten Peach Mountain Dao Field to vent his anger.
Unfortunately, he wasn't skilled enough and was now completely under her control, unable to move.
After teasing them for a while, the blue-robed cultivator straightened his clothes and then looked up at the sky and asked:
"Who guards this training ground? And what makes you, a mere ghost cultivator, here? I see the training ground wasn't ravaged by the beast tide, so what happened to the Spirit Stone resources it produced?"
"The master of this Daoist temple is Perfected Yunmo. The temple was recently ravaged by a horde of ferocious beasts, and there are absolutely no Spirit Stone stones to be produced. Immortal, please be wise!"
At this point, being under the eaves, one had no choice but to bow one's head, and Feng Sihu couldn't care less about anything else.
Since it was something the monk in blue robes had asked, he answered it all without hesitation.
However, she concealed some details about her relationship with Xu Long in her words.
Although the cultivator in blue robes was extremely arrogant, he didn't talk much about the master of the Daoist temple. Instead, he was quite concerned about the Spirit Stone resources produced within the temple.
His words constantly mentioned Spirit Stone resources, which greatly distressed Feng Sihu.
He thought it was a inspector sent by the Jade Screen Sect School, but it turned out to be someone who was just trying to freeload.
He dared not show his dissatisfaction openly, but he couldn't help but mutter a few complaints to himself.
However, Feng Sihu truly had none of the Spirit Stone stones that the Heavenly Immortal cultivators had inquired about.
That blue-robed cultivator was also eccentric; upon hearing that there were no Spirit Stone resources produced, he inexplicably launched an attack here.
"Ah! Immortal... have mercy!"
Feng Sihu roared miserably on the ground.
He was originally an invisible body, and at this moment, the blue-robed cultivator used some unknown method.
It stirred the flying dust particles, peeling away at Feng Sihu's ghostly figure inch by inch.
Excruciating pain, along with fear, surged through him, causing Feng Sihu's ghostly figure to dim to its absolute minimum.
"Since you've stayed here, and the beast tide has already receded, you still claim there are no Spirit Stone resources? Are you trying to fool me? A ghost cultivator like you truly deserves to die!"
Seeing that Feng Sihu showed signs of being unwilling to surrender even at the cost of his life, the Wuming in the blue-robed cultivator's heart was further ignited.
He completely ignored the ghost's screams and used his whisk to pin it to the ground inch by inch.
Seeing the ghostly figure trembling and contorted in a grotesque expression, a twisted look flashed in the eyes of the blue-robed cultivator.
At this moment, Feng Sihu, who was at his feet, was begging for mercy like an ant, which greatly satisfied his strange psychological needs.
While torturing Feng Sihu, he also probed the True Spirit within and Rotten Peach Mountain Dao Field.
After carefully searching inside and outside the dojo, True Spirit discovered that this small dojo was indeed somewhat desolate.
There were neither cultivated medicinal gardens nor guarded monks in this range of mountains.
The entire place was guarded by a ghost cultivator, and even the defensive formations and Spirit-Gathering Array were not located within the dojo.
The only neighbors across the mountains and plains were the ferocious beast clans. It seemed to be a dilapidated small training ground, lacking even the most basic amenities.
Perhaps one day this Boundless Wilderness will be completely taken over by ferocious beast tribes.
He had seen this kind of thing far too many times, but he remained completely unmoved at this moment.
What happened to Rotten Peach Mountain is not important; what is important is that it can no longer provide itself with Spirit Stone resources.
He had gone to great lengths to obtain this spot from within the sect, and he had practically made a fortune on this trip. If he returned empty-handed, wouldn't that be a complete loss?
There's no point in keeping this person around...
The more the blue-robed cultivator thought about it, the angrier he became. A fierce glint flashed in his eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, he was about to finish off the ghostly figure.
In his opinion, this ghostly figure was truly a nuisance, having been hesitant and stammering when he asked the question earlier.
Having suffered hardship and then uttered a completely worthless piece of information, the blue-robed cultivator grew impatient and restless.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and a fierce glint appeared in his eyes.
Feng Sihu instantly felt a chill run through his soul, and an immense sense of crisis rose in his heart.
He instinctively tried to escape, but his entire body was pinned to the ground by the whisk; how could he possibly flee in an instant?
Feng Sihu glanced at the blue-robed cultivator's icy expression; the murderous intent between his brows was now impossible to conceal.
He knew this man was eager to make money and would not listen to his nonsense to delay any longer. Now that his life was hanging by a thread, he hated this fellow to the core.
He then thought that he and the other party were from the same sect, but they were forced to kill each other in this very place.
A complex mix of emotions surged within me, and in the end, I couldn't help but sigh: How bitter!
Feng Sihu's ghostly figure was completely enveloped by the whisk, and then the blue-robed cultivator's hand gradually closed, as if to completely crush it.
The relentless torture was driving Feng Sihu to the brink of fainting.
However, a noise came from above, and the blue-robed cultivator paused, his face turning cold.
His clasped hands froze slightly, and he stood frozen in place.
"Imperial Edict!"
Fortunately, he reacted quickly. After noticing something was wrong, he instantly formed a magic seal and headed towards the outer heavens.
At the same time, looking up at the sky from the ground, he roared angrily in a certain direction in the Boundless Wilderness:
"Where did this petty scoundrel come from, daring to oppose the cultivators of my Jade Screen Sect School!"
He roared, but no one appeared. Instead, he was met with three Earth Immortal Dharma Seal.
As the three magic seals attacked one after another, an unusual energy fluctuation even rose above their heads.
Even though he was Heavenly Immortal cultivator, his brows furrowed slightly.
But when he noticed the anomaly earlier, he had already unleashed a magic seal to fight the enemy.
Seeing that the newcomer was hostile, and considering his limited experience in battle, he had no choice but to resentfully release the whisk in his hand.
After shaking off the ghostly figure, the whisk once again transformed into a long, flowing ribbon, heading towards the three auras in the air.