Yang Jian watched quietly as his twelve hundred resurrected followers sank into the river, motionless and at peace.
He wasn't just doing nothing.
At the bottom of the river.
The water here was exceptionally frigid, exuding an abnormal aura, and the currents moved in an unreasonable manner. Whirlpools began forming among the water currents, their numbers increasing incessantly, densely scattered across the surface.
Even eerier than that.
Within those river whirlpools, shadowy figures of people who had drowned started to emerge once more.
Initially, the figures inside the whirlpools were just blurry outlines.
But over time, the outlines became clearer. Eventually, each whirlpool revealed a drenched figure with a pale complexion, their eyes emitting a faint red glow.
These figures resembled the water-dwelling fierce ghosts, no.
They were fierce ghosts in the water, terrifying existences that couldn't be killed.
"I don't know if your emergence is right or wrong."
