Wang Yu was startled, somersaulting to strike a protective posture with his halberd, but the new arrival showed no signs of attacking.
Looking up, he saw, atop a Ghost Hand Tree, a woman in a white dress standing there silently, or rather, a female corpse wearing a white gauze dress.
Her willow-like eyebrows were curved, her eyes clear, beneath her jade nose were delicate cherry lips. Her figure was slender, and her posture graceful. The hem of her long white dress fluttered in the wind, exuding a transcendent and ethereal aura.
At first glance, her appearance was exceptionally beautiful; if not for Wang Yu's own intuition, he might not have realized she belonged to the Corpse Race.
Wang Yu's mind was agile, adapting calmly: "Indeed, my master sent me to collect this herb."
The woman furrowed her elegant brows: "This Innate Red Grass is highly toxic to our corpse clan. What does Ying Kuo the ancestor want with it?"
Innate Red Grass?!
