The zombies were roaring.
They rushed out from the spread of blood, endless in number.
The Ghost Saint Heir snorted coldly.
Commanding, "Tear him to pieces for me."
Xu Zimei saw this scene and shook his head slightly at first.
These blood-colored zombies are not ordinary illusions or congealed from blood energy.
They are real corpses.
Every time the Ghost Saint Heir kills someone, he refines them into his own zombies.
This cultivation technique of the Ghost Tribe can be said to be extremely malicious.
It goes against the Heavenly Dao, allowing the dead no peaceful demise.
"Don't worry, it won't be long before you become my next zombie as well."
The Ghost Saint Heir snorted coldly, "With your strength, if refined, you'd probably make a decent enforcer."
Xu Zimei didn't answer him.
Instead, with a wave of his right hand, all the endless blood energy surged towards him.
