Chapter 1723 The Spirit Behind the Little Celestial Master (70)

The ghost gate was closed, Yu Moqian stretched out his fingertips, and the pen began to become unreal.

He touched the pen with his fingertips, closed his eyes and said softly, "Solution."

He actually didn't want to break the seal of the pen.

At that time, the master uncle in charge wanted to get the luck item from the gathering place of wronged souls.

And was killed.

He was later suppressed and attracted luck items while struggling.

After he got the item, he realized that it was a big pit.

Those ghosts live by this thing.

And the more you live, the more powerful you become.

And the luck item, that is, the pen in his hand, absorbs the resentment of those ghosts to strengthen itself.

This is a cyclical process.

After he entered, in order to break this balance and weaken the souls of the ancient battlefield, he sealed most of the power of the pen.

Luck items can transmogrify into anything.

He turned into a pen for portability.

After all, he had just entered college back then, but he didn't get in within a few days.

The pen in Yu Moqian's hand is not the body, the body pen is beside his body.

He unsealed the seal of the pen, and the consequences could still be endured.

I guess so.

Yu Moqian sighed, watching the pen change color, and the ink also turned red.

The red ink is brighter than the blood of the ghost formation.

His spiritual body began to collapse, the golden light of the mahogany sword pierced into his empty heart, and his soul was burned by the golden light.

He watched his fingers start to spontaneously combust.

Yu Moqian's eyes were a little tired, and bloody ink began to flow across his body.

The ink that unlocks the seal will affect his sanity.

Many ghosts don't have any IQ, only one kind of obsession exists.

The ink had protected him, and it would begin to corrupt his sanity.

At the end of the corruption, he was no different from the usual stupid x ghosts.

I don't know if I can see Bai Weiwei again.

J.

Yu Moqian thought that if he turned into a real ghost, he might frighten her.

She is so afraid of ghosts, seeing him become a fool's ghost.

Might not like him that much.

Yu Moqian glanced at the wronged soul under his feet, and there were countless blood bubbles.

Those resentments stung his body, and the speed of his body's spontaneous combustion began to slow down under the pressure of the ink.

The red ink began to fall from him, drop by drop at first.

Then it is line by line, and finally more and more ink, like a small river flowing.

It flowed directly from his body to the ground and merged with the blood.

The wronged souls began to freeze, as if they were bound by something.

Yu Moqian looked at those wronged souls with blood-red eyes, and spread his fingers out.

Curves drawn in countless inks hang down from the fingertips.

At the end of countless lines are the heads of those innocent souls.

Wronged souls began to become real.

It was the body drawn in red ink.

Yu Moqian drew the bodies of hundreds of ghosts, and with the bodies of the ghosts, he could leave the ghost formation.

And the thread in his hand can control those dead ghosts.

In fact, he doesn't like this method, because it's too hurtful.

Manipulating unjust souls, placing oneself above all ghosts, the debts will increase.

It will also consume the soul and body.

The mahogany sword on Yu Moqian's chest pierced through his chest, bit by bit crushing the red ink.

But he seemed to be unconscious, raising his hand to control the ghosts to move forward.

Yu Moqian saw Yu Sanqian who was outside the formation.

Yu Sanqian's face was extremely indifferent, and when he saw the ghost turned into a corpse, his eyes trembled.