The ghostly blade pierced straight through QingWu's chest.
Xiao Chenyuan watched in shock as her body was impaled, his world plunging into an icy abyss. His mind went blank, but his body moved faster than his thoughts.
With a swift reverse swing of his sword, he severed the ghostly hand that had attacked.
A scream of agony echoed through the cavern. The dismembered hand, grotesque and insect-like, oozed black mist from its wound.
A hideous ghostly figure emerged midair. Though humanoid in shape, its face still resembled that of a locust, complete with venomously glaring compound eyes and fluttering spectral wings.
The blade that had pierced QingWu's chest had, in fact, been formed from those ghastly wings.
Xiao Chenyuan caught QingWu's collapsing body in his arms. For the first time in a long while, fear gripped him.