In this spiritual world, the Zombie reigned supreme. With a mere wave of its hand, it could obliterate Wen Qingye's Primordial Spirit. Even if it didn't kill him, it could certainly leave his Primordial Spirit grievously wounded.
But seeing the Flying Corpse's black eyes, Wen Qingye steeled his resolve, deciding to risk it all.
A wisp of his Primordial Spirit entered.
WHOOSH!
The entire sky was a sheet of pitch-black, exuding a desolate and majestic aura. Amid the darkness, starlight glittered brilliantly, yet the air was thick with the foulest miasmas of the world: ferocity, brutality, cruelty, and bloodlust.
An ordinary person here would have their mind shattered, losing all reason and turning into a mindless beast.
This was the Zombie's spiritual world.
But Wen Qingye remained completely unaffected. "You should remember me, right?" he said calmly.
"I remember!"
