The Blood Flag fluttered fiercely; torrential rain poured down.
Jiang Shouzhong stood blankly in the piercing cold rain. The crimson-stained world before him seemed splattered with blood, a haze that carried a haunting, sinister allure.
He had no idea where he was.
Out of nowhere, he had appeared on a plaza filled with an oppressive chill.
Through the mirror-like polished crystal ground beneath him, he could clearly see his current appearance—a tall figure clad in black, imposing armor, resembling a god of war.
Yet beneath the cold, dark armor lay a stark white skeleton.
In the hollow sockets of his eyes burned two ghostly flames, casting an eerie, chilling light.
This form, he was all too familiar with.
It was identical to the Asura Undead Army he'd seen by the lake before.
Around him, countless undead soldiers identical to himself stood silently on the plaza, like motionless statues, wrapped in chains that dangled from their bodies.
