A splash of ink descended from the tip of the brush, transforming into a black tide that covered the sky. Zhang Hongzheng tightly grasped Yan Qi's shoulder, refusing to let go, and with one hand struck out with a fist. The powerful punch cleaved through the tide; the elder in the luxurious garb was furious.
"You little bastard, are you planning a rebellion!"
"Rebellion?" Yan Qi sneered, "Without even the 'right' above, what rebellion is there to speak of!"
With a sudden shake of his sleeves, he broke free from Zhang Hongzheng's grip. The defeated ink tide spiraled upwards, transforming behind Yan Qi into a gaunt, bloated-bellied specter. With clawed hands, it lunged at the old man. This was a "hungry ghost," forever tormented by thirst and hunger, devouring the divine skills and spells of enemies, swallowing them whole regardless of their form or type.
