The Post Sky Tipping Era

This existence must be eliminated.

Just as Meng Changfeng was about to turn around and leave, a bizarre sound suddenly made him stop in his tracks,

Behind him on the ground, a series of bone-colliding sounds erupted, followed by the eerie female corpse inexplicably restoring itself rapidly. Then it stood up unscathed. Its pale, numb face still bore a weird smile that chilled one’s heart.

"Why aren’t you dead yet?"

The Yin God, Meng Changfeng, who had lived for five hundred years, roared with an inexplicable unease in his heart, eager to strike again.

However, as he turned around and just lifted his fist, his entire body suddenly stiffened, followed by fear that sprang from the bottom of his heart.

In front of him, Ghost Street was filled with dense figures, as far as the eye could see, there appeared to be no end, and every figure was identical—all were that ghastly pale female, each with a smile, their hollow, numb eyes fixed on him.

Above in the sky, instead of blood, what now fell were drops of foul-smelling Corpse Water.

Looking up again, he saw that the sky above was filled with countless corpses. These bodies were interwoven together, forming an endless sky, and each corpse varied in form; there were old men, children, women, some dressed in long robes, others naked. Some twisted in pain with their mouths agape, while some corpses even bore a happy smile.