Across the entire sea, whether the drifting wandering souls on the waves or the corpses bobbing in the surf, everything suddenly came back to life and turned to look at the Thin Daoist.
Even the dozen or so third-realm crocodile fiends that had just been slain.
The Thin Daoist waved his banner once, pointed toward Red-Glow Isle, and the sky filled with a dense, gloomy gray mist like a thunderhead before a midsummer storm.
It rolled thick and low toward Red-Glow Isle.
All the wandering souls, corpses, and the cultivators of the Star-Plucking Hall formed a massive host hidden within that black cloud.
Their auras merged with it, and the cloud surged toward Red-Glow Isle as a single thing.
At the same time, as the cloud surged forward it continued to absorb the battlefield’s abundant blood qi, growing ever larger, spreading outward.
By the time it neared Red-Glow Isle, the black cloud was somehow three parts darker and thicker than the island’s own red glow.
Red Second Aunt, trapped inside that cloud, changed color.
Now that thousands of crocodile fiends had died and been taken into the Thin Daoist’s service, the situation tilted sharply.
Even her own dharma-image chasing the Sea-God manifestation could not save the day.