And the talismans he had handed over to the scholar went unused, for not a single disciple of the Poison Sect had escaped the Poison Mist Swamp; all had perished within the marsh.
At that moment—
The resentful spirit of the Barefoot Immortal, with pupils glazed white, was holding the withered body of an old man. He strode out of the swamp and threw the body down in front of Chen Qiu.
"The process of collecting bodies is still the most enjoyable," he said.
Chen Qiu, smiling, wrapped his arms with Spiritual Energy and carefully stripped the Storage Ring and all else from the old man's body, not even sparing items like shoes and belt, for they might be some fine Spiritual Treasures.
Immediately following,
Thousands of Demon Clan cultivators also emerged, each carrying the bodies of several hundred Poison Sect disciples and dumping them on the open ground.
Fat Long and his acquaintances swiftly approached and stripped all of the Storage Bags and Storage Rings from their waists.
