Song qingxiao closed her eyes to sense. Perhaps it was because she had absorbed all the star souls here, but the faint aura of death was still present in the surroundings, but the spiritual Qi was not as dense as before.
It was pitch-black above his head, as if there were thick dark clouds pressing down. With the twinkling of a few stars, shadows were cast on the altar.
"Disappeared, disappeared?"
Number one was sweating profusely. He held his breath and finished speaking. He turned his stiff neck and looked around. He did not see the shadow of the undead Army. He listened carefully again. Perhaps it was the strong shadow left by the approaching skeletons that made him feel nervous. He kept feeling that the faint clicking sounds of the skeletons walking were still ringing in his mind.
Number five, six, and seven were all covered in injuries, lying on the altar and gasping for breath.
