The deeper they went, the more concentrated and pure the surrounding yin ghostly energy became, even condensing into icy dew on their robes, emitting a faint sizzling corrosion sound.
Zhang Shuo's face was tense as he focused all his strength on the compass, beads of sweat faintly visible on his forehead.
Xu Ping, however, remained calm and steady, his blood and qi subtly circulating beneath his dark robes, dissolving the invasive yin energy effortlessly.
About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn later.
The mist ahead suddenly thinned, and their view became clear.
An enormous underground cavern appeared before them.
The ceiling soared hundreds of feet high, with countless dark, ink-like stalactites hanging down, glimmering with a ghostly light.
The ground was a shiny black-colored ghostly soil, and the air was filled with an extremely pure and cold ghostly energy, almost condensed into a liquid state.
