Yang Cheng's Moon Golden Wheel was like the scythe of Death, slicing through multiple heads with each spin.
Meanwhile, Feng Jiuge's dagger was as precise as the fangs of a venomous snake, thrusting accurately into the ghost corpses' throats or hearts, killing them in one strike.
However, the number of ghost corpses was overwhelming, continuously crawling out from the crevice, as if they were never-ending.
"Why are there so many ghost corpses? This isn't a sustainable solution!"
Feng Jiuge gasped, sweat pouring down her forehead, and her black martial attire was drenched in black corpse blood.
Although she was an expert in the Foundation Establishment Realm, such high-intensity fighting was truly hard to endure.
Yang Cheng glanced around, his gaze settling on the direction of the doorway.
"Follow me!"
