The true terror of Ghosthead Mountain lay not in the cultivators but in the ghost clan.0

After sprinting for several kilometers, Liu Wuxie abruptly slowed his pace.0

"If it hadn't been for the Yin-Faced Ghosts, we wouldn't have shaken them off," Tian Wucang remarked, panting as he caught his breath. Though he had mostly recovered from his wounds, he remained weak.0

Just moments ago, waves of enemies surrounded them, but the sudden emergence of the Yin-Faced Ghosts had forced those cultivators to retreat, giving the two of them precious time to escape.0

"Hehehe…" A shrill, eerie laughter echoed around them, bouncing unpredictably from all directions.0

"Who's there?" Liu Wuxie growled, gripping the Heretic Blade tightly. His gaze turned razor-sharp as he activated Ghost Eye.0

Before long, he detected waves of dense ghost fog slowly creeping toward them.0

"What a rich vital essence." A voice that was neither male nor female echoed. It drifted and vanished from one direction to another.0

"They're Yin-Faced Ghosts!" Tian Wucang's expression darkened as he drew his spear and took up a defensive stance.0

This was Liu Wuxie's first encounter with the ghost clan, which meant that he had no experience...0