Ning Fan stood on the ancient sword while countless dead and injured devil armies and ghost troops lay scattered all over the land.
Fresh blood had dyed the land red. Immense killing qi covered the vast sky. Deafening sounds of battle and cries of pain were all over the place!
Carcasses and bones littered the area within ten thousand li* (500m per li). The strength of the ghost army that Bone Sovereign commanded was diminishing gradually. After all, they were one million plus troops short of Ning Fan's army.
Seeing that his ghost army was slowly losing ground, Bone Sovereign's face turned grim.
Today, he wore a set of grey robes. He still had the body of a young man. His face had great resemblance to Wang Yao in the past but it was far different from his original look.
His eyes flashed with a ferocious red glow. He already realized that his ghost army would not be able to take Ning Fan down.
