The Army of the Deceased
A muffled sound resonated through the air. Shi Zhan, standing not far away, hadn't recovered from the shock when a terrifying force suddenly swept through his entire body. His figure, like a kite with a severed string, was sent flying backward. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his face mask fell to the ground.
Evidently, Shi Zhan's control over the undead had been shattered, and the martial skills he employed had suffered severe repercussions, inflicting considerable damage upon him.
Struggling to stabilize himself, Shi Zhan revealed a grotesque visage. His corpse-like face, pallid and devoid of vitality, displayed changing hues, hinting at his precarious state of existence.
"Hmph!"
With a low grunt, Shi Zhan, having dissipated the formidable force within him, raised his head. His countenance, dark and forbidding, fixated upon the azure-scaled spirit beast three meters high.
"A spirit beast with dragon bloodline?"
Whispering silently, Shi Zhan's gaze grew solemn.
"Roar!"