Under the gloom of nightfall, malevolent ghosts wailed, their cries resembling desperate pleas, horrifying to hear. Shouts of rage from the human race echoed through the sky, staggering the spirits. A chilling wind penetrated bodies completely, freezing them solid. Under the veil of mist, ghostly figures flickered in and out of view. The mist hovered, falling and rising, human shadows incessantly shimmering and interweaving. The gathered force of righteousness from the human tribe constantly dispelled the ghostly figures.
Suddenly, the sound of war drums resounded, signaling the withdrawal of soldiers. Upon hearing the drum, they advanced, leaving behind scattered stranded enemy troops. The majority of the ghost soldiers had already been routed by the united wrath of the Gu Yuan Tribe. At this moment, the tribal warriors who had originally been protecting the tribespeople also picked up their weapons, eager to charge forward into the fray.
