The moment this voice appeared, the Ghost King finally passed out as he had wished.
The greedy ghosts who had rushed over, hoping to share in the spoils, were now like moths to a flame, unable to stop their advance, all turned to dust and smoke.
The Dharma Image of the Dragon Spirit, suspended in midair, was casually shaken by a hand reaching out from the void, as if it was flicking away a Little Chicken, and it calmed down as well.
Just a moment ago, they swarmed over, a dark mass covering the sky, but now the space had cleared, leaving only that indistinct shadow in the center.
Ginsengfruit watched as the old ancestor from Qingfeng Temple, with one move, delivered a rough "equivalent punishment" to both sides, brutally resolving this conflict.
It shrunk even more, not daring to let itself be noticed by the old ancestor, lest it also be slapped twice to ensure fairness.
