The head fell to the ground.

Neck blood splattered like blooming flowers.

Screaming, moaning, roaring, and hissing.

--who I am?

——Where am I?

——Why is the blood splashing on the face so hot?

——Why are they all retreating?

——What are they afraid of?

The remaining soldiers retreated in embarrassment, and countless soldiers rushed over and surrounded me layer by layer.

The battle axe is as cold as water, the heavy shield is as parallel as mountains, and the spear is as tall as a forest.

This is the elite of the Wei Kingdom's elite, known as the Martial Soldier, and each one has been selected through layers of selection.

If you have greater strength than others, carry heavy armor and hold strong soldiers, you are only the basis. You have to go through several bloody battles and never die before you can be qualified to be selected.

These war-torn soldiers are now all pale, and several of them can't help swallowing their saliva.

There was only one lonely figure surrounded by these Wei Wushu.

His left calf had disappeared, and half of his spear was tied to his thigh as a substitute to support his body; half of the flesh on his right leg disappeared, revealing the blood-stained thigh bones. At the wound, the muscles were half red and half white, and there was no bleeding.

On the back, there was only a fragment of the original complete armor. It was rather embedded in flesh and blood than hanging on the body - there were marks of heavy hammering on it.

In front of him, half of his intestine was squeezed out in the silk gap wrapped around his lower abdomen.

There is a crack in the chest that can reach half of the fist. Through the wound, you can barely see the heart that no longer beats.

He is no longer a living person.

"Gong Yang Zan, the historian of the Great Wei Dynasty, ask for your name." A white-clothed scholar walked out under the layers of armored soldiers, bowed and asked seriously.

——Is this talking to me?

"Zhang Lie and Zhang Zhanjue, the son of Zhang Gong Zhenji, the commander of the Fenwu School of the Great Han Dynasty!"

——This is not what I am talking about!

——Who is talking for me?

"Your courage is forever and will be kept in history. But the one who killed your father today is dead. Your grudge has been over. Will your soul be lost? "The white-clothed scholar asked.

"I'm dead?"

——The mouth is talking, but I am not the master of this body, but a bystander.

——I am a spirit from outside the world, and now I am lurking in the host's soul.

——I am a time traveler and an extraterritorial demon!

"Your Excellency, one sword, broke five formations and killed seven generals, and killed our deputy general of the Great Wei Dynasty, Zaifu Gan, and was severely injured ten times, with little injuries. The armor was broken and blood was killed. Even though he died, the warriors in the world from ancient times to the present should be the leader of you." The white-clothed scholar bowed his hand, his face three points heavy and seven points respectful.

There is a strange power in his voice that can make people feel happy and relaxed.

"Yeah?"

He lowered his head and looked at his body.

Through the terrible wound on your chest, you can directly see your heart - the heart is a little shriveled and no longer beating.

"So I'm dead?"

'bass--'

The long knife penetrated into the ground, and my eyes fell down - it seemed that something had disappeared from this body, causing me to lose my suppression.

——I have successfully taken over the body?

"Sacrificing one's life and forgetting one's death, the heroic soul never dissipates, and it's so true!"

Looking at the body standing with a knife in front of him, the man in white sighed and turned around and left.

"Master, this-" the soldier next to him asked in a low voice.

"The great warriors should respect themselves - wait for tomorrow." Historian Gong Yang Zan, no, the commander of the Grand Marshal Gong Wuxie.

"The body of that handsome man?" the soldier asked again.

"Take it away, you can't let his soul be taken away by those monks. It's better to kill enemies on the battlefield, but it's a bit too much to kill enemy generals and hang corpses to show public. If he wasn't so cruel, how could he arouse the other party's fighting spirit? If I came one step late today, I can't remove this person's fighting spirit, I'm afraid that this person will be transformed into the Ghost King on the spot."

"What's more, these characters are the best materials for condensed fighting souls. If we take them away, those people will not stop."

—————————————————

The Wangu Plain is a basin between the Han and Wei countries, sandwiched between the Qishan and the Mangdang Mountains. Whoever controls this place can advance, attack, retreat and defend, and is a place that must be fought for by military strategists.

Since it is a place where military strategists must fight, it is naturally the focus of struggle between the two sides.

Over the past hundred years, the King of Han and King of Wei have changed several people, and this place is still a battle of military strategists - this nameless basin was also renamed Wangu Plain.

The setting sun was like blood, and the last ray of rays of rays dimmed, and the Ten Thousand Bone Plain calmed down, and only the cry of crows and yelled owls echoed desolately on the plain.

The battlefield during the day has turned into a ghost.

It's at night, at midnight.

The Wangu Plain blew in all directions at the same time.

Wherever the wind passes, wild dogs, wild wolves, crows and vultures wandering on the battlefield fell to the ground; the wind blew across the bodies of the fallen soldiers, and brought out strands of souls that were either kept in human form or like black smoke and dust. These souls wailed and whistled, dyeing the wind black.

The black wind converged in the middle of the battlefield, rising into the air, condensed into dark clouds, covering the entire sky.

The earth stretched out her hand and saw no five fingers.

About three hundred meters underground in Wangu Plain, there is a huge semi-artificial and semi-natural cave.

In the middle of the cave, countless skulls were built into an altar that was nine feet high and nine feet in square meters.

In the middle of the altar, a black flag was inserted into a large skull.

The black flag is three feet, three inches and three minutes long, and the windless self-expanding triangular flag is pure black and has no patterns.

Nine men in black robes stood around the altar.

"Hehehehe, this time I finally didn't use some civilians to fool us." A man in black robe said with a smile.

"That's natural. If there are less than 10,000 war souls this time, the ancestor will probably turn against each other." said another black-robed monk.

"It's no wonder that if the ancestors had less than ten thousand war souls, one of the twelve Dutian Ten Thousand Ghost Flags would be missing. The Yin Emperor blamed him, and the ancestors could not afford it."

"The ancestors made a large sum of money a hundred years ago and set up a spirit gathering formation that covers hundreds of miles here. The Han and Wei countries have fought for years, so how could they gather tens of thousands of war souls?" Another man in black robe asked curiously.

"My junior brother is not our foreign affairs disciples, and he is not following the path of soul gathering and practicing. Therefore, I don't know that the war soul is different from ordinary ghosts. A brave man must fight head-on and die, and the soul does not dissipate after death before forming a war soul.

If a army of ten thousand people dies in battle and does not retreat, it can be called a well-trained and morale, and there are only a hundred war souls. If three thousand deaths in battle and does not collapse, we will be the elite of a country. We have to thank God. Moreover, there are not many such elites in Wei and Chu countries - there are no 100 war souls so easily.

We have been squatting here for twenty years, and after three major wars, countless small battles, and only collected 1,300 battle souls. If the senior brothers in front of us had not accumulated a lot, we would not know when we would have collected 10,000 battle souls."

The man in black robe had to continue talking. The man in black robe interrupted him and said, "The Yin Feng has finished searching the soul. Everyone takes the position, activates the altar, gathers spirits into the flag."

The men in black robes quickly took their seats.

The nine men in black robe each activated their magic power to inject into the altar, and the dark wind was strong in the cave for a moment.

"All ghosts obey orders, and the souls of the sky are taken away, come!" the nine people shouted in unison.

In the center of the altar, the Dutian Ghost Flag suddenly opened to a height of three feet high. The flag was "swipe" and shaking. Straws of black air rose slowly from the flag, and three feet above the flag formed a pillar of black light.

The black light sees the rock as nothing, and it rushes out of the ground through the strata and penetrates straight into the clouds above.

Dutian Ten Thousand Ghost Flag - Soul-Seeing Divine Light.

The black light was like a pillar, supporting the sky and supporting the earth, and the dark clouds in the sky were rotating and shrinking towards the pillar of black light in the middle.
Chapter completed!