Chapter 377: Chapter 377

377: Chapter 365: Zangxin 377: Chapter 365: Zangxin However, Baili An’s goal was not originally for the Ghost, regardless, temporarily driving the Ghost out of the Second Realm and then employing other methods was the best strategy.

He paid no attention to the several cultivators furiously rushing toward him.

Outside the carriage, the nine-headed unicorn let out a long cry, its hooves kicking up billowing flames, forcing a direct stamp upon the chests of those cultivators, knocking them unconscious at once.

The master’s territory must not be invaded by others.

The Ghost laughed loudly and boisterously, proudly hiding in the nearly dispersed Yin Sand, speaking a bizarre language that no one could understand, “I quit!

Now that I have this woman, what more could I ask for from the sorrowful dreams of spring and autumn!

From now on, within Immortal City, the Ghost shall no more exist!

Dream on if you think you can use my life to open doors for you, you dog!”

Not sure if it was intentional interference, there were particularly many Yin Spirits obstructing Ying Xiu, leaving him momentarily helpless.

He commanded loudly, “Capture the Ghost!”

Hidden within the command was a word curse.

Heroic Spirit Hongying, with a crimson pentagram divine rune flickering on her forehead, empowered by the Power of Word Spirits, her black hair wildly dancing, sinister formations emerging around her transforming the Spirit Light, instantly turned the direction of the Ghost’s escape into a dark battlefield.

The crimson blood-drenched land, broken blades and banners, and a blood-red sun on the verge of falling from the western horizon, much like the fading twilight turning somber.

The skyline where light meets the ground tightly captured the silhouette of the Ghost.

Hongying vanished on the spot, like a swift gust of Yin Wind, leaving a faint trail of smoke on the dark soil.

Within the blood-drenched battlefield, Hongying’s shadow-like smoke form continuously slashed out cold sharp edges.

The Ghost’s expression turned solemn as he let out a piercing shriek, eyes bloodshot, unexpectedly tightening his grip on the female ghost in his arms, facing the onslaught with his back.

The edge held between Hongying’s fingertips trembled slightly before shooting out, stiring up several Yin Winds, failing to land on the Ghost.

The Astral Wind grazed his cheek, leaving a thin red line.

The sharp edge disappeared into the darkness, piercing the shadowy curtain of darkness, tearing a huge gap in the battlefield’s sky.

These emotions flitted across his face, leaving no room for him to ponder why, at his darkest hour, he repeatedly received aid from strangers.

Seizing every opportunity to escape, he hesitated not a moment and headed straight for the gap.

Behind him, a furious roar from Ying Xiu resounded, “Hongying!

How dare you betray me?”

That name, like a soft thorn, momentarily snagged on the hardened heart of the Ghost.

His escaping steps involuntarily paused for an instant.

Perhaps the desire to survive overwhelmed everything for the moment, so he didn’t recall where the name came from, nor did he notice that the female Heroic Spirit from the Central Netherworld’s face was already drenched in blood.

Hesitation lasted but a moment, and he continued forward on the Yin Sand, thoughts of survival overwhelming all else.

As for the female Heroic Spirit who betrayed the Crown Prince of Central Netherworld, whatever punishment she deserved was not for him to worry about.

But it was that inexplicable moment of hesitation that the tear he was about to escape through started to close again, becoming difficult to pass through.

The Ghost impatiently stretched out a hand, attempting to forcefully break through the formation.

Just then, a man’s hand emerged from the twilight, the hand itself forming a blade, ordinary in appearance, no spiritual light or mystical force visible, only a thin callus on its palm, like that of a farmer who often plants rice.

Yet when that hand entered the Ghost’s line of vision, an unprecedented fear appeared on his face.

The hand, as if entering tofu, crushed and pierced through the Ghost’s extended hand, forearm, and arm one after another.

An extremely ordinary-looking hand, yet it concealed unparalleled strength.

Thus, the Ghost’s body, nearly free from this realm, gruesomely mutilated and bloody, fell from a great height.

In the darkness, a cold huff came, “Did you think you could escape, my dear disciple?”

The Ghost’s vision darkened as he struggled to stand, but his knees burst open with two bursts of blood without warning, and he fell heavily once more.

Did the Ghost still have a master?

Yes, during his mortal life, his master was a sect leader of the righteous path, but because he accidentally killed a man after descending the mountain, it ultimately led to the demise of his entire sect.

Thus, his master should have passed away three thousand years ago.

Could it be a new master after he became a Fierce Ghost?

Why has he never heard of this?

People looked around blankly, hearing mocking laughter piercing through the air.

The Ghost knelt on the ground, his presence terrifyingly fierce, like a vicious dog with old wounds suddenly torn open, incessantly letting out mournful howls.

Meng Zifei heard the laughter, circling like a scavenging vulture, his face draining of blood entirely in an instant, clutching his horsetail whisk tightly, the veins on the back of his hand slightly protruding, trembling.

His face looked extremely unpleasant, freeing one hand to tightly grasp the wrist of the other hand, barely managing to stop the trembling.

Baili An’s gaze settled on Meng Zifei momentarily, capturing his subtle movements, then he saw a man draped in a purple robe, slowly emerging from the darkness.

The man’s face was covered with a metal mask, twined with dark demonic aura, radiating a chilling eeriness.

He faced everyone and cut straight to the point, “I come from a long river in the far North named Zangxin.”

Upon these words, everyone’s color changed, someone cried out, “Demon Sect…

remnants of the Demon Sect…”

The man in the purple robe chuckled lightly.

Then, as his head tumbled like a melon, the wound on his neck and shoulders mirror-like, covered by a thin layer of Sword Qi, no blood could break through the Sword Qi.

The atmosphere became instantly frosty.

“I am indeed a person of the Demon Sect, you may call me a demon, refer to me as the second river, but please do not call me a remnant.”

Laughter echoed from beneath the skull mask, his voice as if processed by some sound technique, untraceable to its origin, he leisurely said, “After all, my Langya Demon Sect has not yet seen the day of its demise.”

He stepped on the head of the screaming Ghost, pressing his face deeply into the mud.

His voice was full of affection and regret, “My dear disciple, if you had obediently followed orders and opened the door to the three realms, your teacher wouldn’t have needed to expose himself to this flock of sheep, playing , you are defying your master’s orders.”

The Ghost gritted his teeth, “You will not use me again!”

With a light chuckle, the man in the purple robe stretched his hand toward the Ghost, and the female ghost He Sha who was in the Ghost’s arms suddenly rose into the air, powerfully sucked into his grasp.

Then, the flute sound suddenly intensified, and the Yin Winds of the world turned into blades, slashing fiercely toward the outstretched hand of the man in the purple robe.

The man in the purple robe hummed lightly, seemingly wary, quickly withdrew his hand, the sharp Yin Wind grazed his fingertips, cutting off a finger segment.

Yet no fresh blood spurted, and before the finger segment hit the ground, it transformed into a wisp of black flame and ashed away.