At this moment, the river surface had become a ghost realm.
Fierce winds howled without a trace of daylight, ghost fires flickered dimly, accompanied by screams and rustling sounds echoing all around.
Inside the cabin, there were still a few mortals, the young noble's servants, and maids, huddled together in fear, their eyes filled with despair.
Fatty Tiger shrank back a bit, "Damn it, this must be the passing troops from some forbidden land. Taoist, the enemy is strong, we should retreat for now."
Zhang Kui held Lu Li sword horizontally, gently stroking it, producing a dragon's cry, his eyes gradually filled with evil qi.
"It's too late!"
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a crackling sound, like wet hands slapping on boards, as those water ghosts with dripping black hair and pale bodies crawled up along the deck.
Zhang Kui did not move, staring dead ahead.
