He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

Yun Yi was even more satisfied when he saw this.

The fact that he can still speak indicates that he has retained a significant amount of his memories.

He became increasingly certain that the stronger the martial artist, the more complete their memories would be when they became a ghost.

In this way, he doesn't have to worry about his soldiers becoming a group of mindless wandering ghosts after they die in battle.

One minute later, Zhao Mang, who had transformed into a ghost, died.

The blazing sun's light was far too effective against ghosts; even the eerie form created by a fifth-tier martial artist could only last for a minute at most.

But it doesn't matter, a minute later, he's a good ghost again.

Upon his resurrection, Zhao Mang rushed back to the battlefield without hesitation.

This time, his unusual behavior finally attracted the attention of others.

The yin energy that Zhao Mang unleashed was far stronger than that of ordinary ghost soldiers, and it also lasted longer.

When someone saw the face clearly, the True Bishop Commander on the other end of the holographic projection froze on the spot, his face full of disbelief.

He originally thought these undead, bizarre creatures were just evil things concocted by the Lord of Youdu City—although they were immortal and indestructible, they would not be difficult to deal with as long as a way to restrain them was found.

But now, a powerful martial artist who had just been killed by them has transformed into that thing in the blink of an eye, and even possesses an immortal body.

Are you kidding me?

Could it be that all these high-level martial artists turn into these monsters after they die?

The moment the thought crossed his mind, the True Bishop Commander's legs began to go weak uncontrollably.

The Wasteland Merchant noticed the same thing, and his judgment was exactly the same as that of the True Bishop Commander.

But there was no fear on his face; instead, it was filled with barely suppressed excitement.

The members of the Dark Technology Society were hiding in a corner, rapidly calculating something, occasionally glancing at the battlefield, their eyes flashing with hesitation and a hint of almost insane fervor.

……

Just as Yun Yi was about to withdraw his attention from Zhao Mang's ghost, something else caught his eye.

The ghost whose resurrection speed had always been severely lagging suddenly stopped.

The grayish-white yin energy still flowed slowly around it, but no longer gathered towards the center. Instead, it swirled in place, like a lost fog.

Other ghosts died and came back to life, only it remained quietly in place, like a stagnant pool.

Yun Yi focused all his attention on the ghost.

Its outline was no different from the other ghosts—a grayish-white humanoid shadow, with blurred features, and two clusters of ghostly fire in its eye sockets that flickered weakly like the other 150,000 of its comrades.

The only difference is the line of text floating above your head.

The words appeared above the heads of every ghost from the very first day the entry was activated. Yun Yi never figured out their meaning, only that they remained unchanged in their original place, never disappearing and never changing.

But now, it is no longer fivefold.

Four real deaths.

One layer is missing.

The moment that thought crossed his mind, the yin energy around the ghost suddenly surged.

All the Yin energy within a radius of several hundred meters was violently torn apart by an invisible force, twisting into a gray-white funnel-shaped vortex centered on it.

The edge of the vortex scraped the ground, leaving streaks of frost of varying depths.

Several ordinary Yin ghosts nearby were affected by this suction force, and their Yin energy was instantly drained, turning into wisps of white smoke and dissipating. They then re-condensed not far away, only to be torn apart and drained again, repeating this cycle repeatedly.

Yun Yi watched this scene in silence, without intervening.

He sensed that the total amount of Yin energy within the ghost was increasing at an alarming rate.

The vortex lasted for about twenty seconds.

As the last wisp of yin energy was drained and absorbed into the center, the vortex suddenly exploded, and a visible gray shockwave spread in all directions, causing the Holy Church soldiers on the battlefield to involuntarily shiver.

At the center of the vortex, the ghost had completely changed its appearance.

First, there's the form.

Ordinary ghosts are nothing more than blurry humanoid shadows, with facial features only in a rough outline.

Its grayish-white body was solidified to an unimaginable degree, with the joints of every finger clearly discernible, and its facial features meticulously detailed. The green will-o'-the-wisps in its eye sockets no longer flickered weakly, but burned fiercely, like two dark green coal nuclei.

Secondly, there's the color.

The gray around it was no longer a thin gray-white, but a deeper, purer gray, a gray that seemed to devour light, and the surrounding light shining on it would be quietly absorbed.

Then comes the breath.

The aura of an ordinary Yin Ghost is cold, ethereal, and devoid of presence, but this one contained something Yun Yi had never sensed before—rage.

Undisguised, pure rage, like something that had been suppressed for far too long finally bursting through a crack.

It constantly emitted hoarse growls from its throat, the sound piercing through the noise of the battlefield and into the ears of everyone who heard it.

The broken, incoherent screams were like those of someone who had been mad for too long and had forgotten all language, leaving only the most primal instincts.

Madness, chaos, utter irrationality—yet equally deadly.

A stream of information naturally flowed into Yun Yi's mind.

He instantly knew what to call it.

聻。

When a person dies, they become a ghost; when a ghost dies, it becomes a ling.

This is the soul.

It moved.

One second they were standing still, the next they were inside the cockpit of a Holy Light Mech.

The holy light of the blazing sun shone on it, but it showed no reaction.

The golden light that could instantly vaporize ordinary Yin ghosts and burn Zhao Mang's Yin ghost to ashes in a minute struck it like ordinary sunlight shining on a stubborn rock; it didn't even feel anything.

The mech pilot was a seasoned Templar Knight. He first felt a chill creep up from the soles of his feet, then looked down and saw a hand—gray, translucent, and emanating an indescribable chilling aura—piercing through his chest.

He could clearly feel his life being swallowed up.

Memory, emotion, faith—all the precious and unprecious moments in his life were frantically ripped away, torn apart, and devoured by the hand that pierced through his chest.

The vengeful spirit withdrew its hand from his body, bringing with it a dim golden light—a fragment of the knight's soul that had been baptized by holy light.

It stuffed the fragment into its mouth and uttered its first complete, clear syllable that sent chills down the spines of everyone on the battlefield.

"Hungry."

The next second, it appeared directly behind another person.

It pierces through him, devours him, and then reappears in front of the next one.

Thirty-seven Templar Knights, sixteen Holy Light Mechs, and ninety-three diocesan garrison soldiers.

In a minute and a half, it was all swallowed up.

As it devours more and more souls, the aura of the Necromancer also rises wildly.

His body became increasingly solid, his speed increased, and the chilling aura he exuded grew stronger.

Compared to the powerful Yin ghost that Zhao Mang had transformed into—although it was immortal and powerful, it could only last for a minute and still had ways to counter it—this thing in front of them completely ignored any attacks and possessed a speed that was impossible to perceive.

Weird and terrifying.

The True Bishop's command post was in complete chaos.

"What is that thing?!" the battlefield cardinal screamed at the holographic projection, his voice like a chicken being strangled. "Why is the light of the sun ineffective against it?! Stop it! Have the Knights Templar activate their chains of holy light! Have the main cannons of the Holy Light warships aim at it!"

All commands were ineffective in stopping the vengeful spirit.

Chains of holy light passed through its body as easily as passing through air.

The golden beam of the warship's main cannon struck it, but it didn't even bother to dodge. The beam passed right through its body the instant it touched it, as if they were not even on the same level.