The howling werewolves also appeared, their eyes vacant, drool dripping from their mouths, waving their claws as they pounced on them.
Phil Gray put on a pair of white gloves, but they weren't gloves formed from the right hand of any dead person; they were just ordinary gloves used to conceal his abilities.
Fortunately, he had put some white gloves in his storage space when he was stocking up on clothes, just in case.
Fate's blade was hurled, precisely severing the werewolf's throat.
"Your skills are usable again?" Leopold exclaimed in admiration after fending off the undead.
Phil Gray smiled silently, and with the blessing of the Death Stone, he lavishly threw out the Blades of Destiny, and one werewolf after another fell.
They quickened their pace.
Finally, when they reached a certain critical point, all the undead disappeared in an instant.
Phil Gray caught his breath and glanced at the equally exhausted Leopold. "The undead are gone. Are we almost there?"
But ahead remained completely dark, without any light.
Leopold shook his head, indicating that he didn't know either.
Just then, they sensed a terrifying aura, and a feeling of oppression and depression welled up in their hearts. The surrounding silence meant that Phil Gray could only hear his own heartbeat.
But unconsciously, he felt another surge of anger, realizing that his emotions were being affected, and Phil Gray tried his best to calm himself down.
Leopold held the bone sword upright in front of him, assuming a defensive stance.
A figure suddenly appeared, floating in the air. One side of his face was black, while the other side was white. He wore a dress commonly worn by nobles, and his golden hair shone with the warmth of the sun, making him seem out of place in this corridor of death.
His eyes were only white, without pupils, so he seemed to be a spirit that had lost its mind.
What is this?
Phil Gray stared intently at the figure. This guy was no match for those undead. Could he be the big boss of the Death Corridor?
The person floating in the air slowly raised their hand, and a golden light descended from the sky, transforming into a beam that enveloped them.
How is this possible?
How could there be undead in the Death Corridor capable of wielding the power of the Dawn God?
Aren't the dead and the dawn naturally opposed?
Phil Gray stared incredulously at the guy who had attacked them.
What exactly is it?
Leopold's skeleton showed burn marks from the beam, but he felt no pain. He continued to slash at the beam with his bone sword, exclaiming in frustration, "How come I've never heard of undead like this in the Death Corridor?"
“He must have been a prominent figure in the Cult of Dawn before he died, but he accidentally perished in the Corridor of Death and became one of the mindless undead,” Phil Gray speculated.
Then his eyes widened as he saw a golden fireball rushing towards Leopold. His bone sword failed to block it, and he was knocked to the ground.
"Hiss... This guy is a bit tricky." Leopold struggled to his feet, but more golden fireballs were being hurled at them.
He wielded his bone sword, desperately parrying, managing to deflect several attacks for Phil Gray, but a few still struck him.
He collapsed again.
And he seemed rather incapable.
Several more fireballs hit him, but his side seemed unaffected.
what to do?
Is it because the spirit of the Cult of Dawn still retains some consciousness, and is therefore deliberately targeting Leopold?
Phil Gray frowned as he stared at the figure in the middle, deciding to try a different approach, otherwise he, Leopold, would be stuck here forever.
He gave the large skeleton on the ground a deep look. "Give me one of Frank's things, and I will end my summons to you."
"What?" Leopold was confused. He tried to get up, but a section of his leg bone had been burned off by the fireball.
"I want to try other methods. You don't need to worry about me. Just leave it to me."
“Alright.” Leopold hesitated for a moment, but still chose to believe this somewhat mysterious human. Someone valued by the Death Knight must have some other means.
A small metal box was thrown at Phil Gray, who, in the instant he caught it, ended his summoning of Leopold.
The disappearance of the giant skeleton stopped the continuous fireballs.
But the beam began to narrow, still enveloping Phil Gray.
The undead floating in space seemed curious about the sudden disappearance of the giant skeleton. He flew down and stopped in front of Phil Gray.
Phil Gray stared at his completely white eyes and bizarre face, suppressing the terrifying sense of oppression, and took out the church emblem that Vincent had given him from his spatial storage, then channeled divine power into it.
The emblem emitted a faint golden light, like a tiny flame in the darkness, the kind that would be extinguished at the slightest breeze.
However, it was this flame that stunned the undead before them.
"Are you a senior member of the Cult of Dawn?" Phil Gray asked.
But the spirit did not answer; it had lost its intelligence and was incapable of responding to its own words.
The cessation of the attack was merely a result of familiarity with the divine power of the Dawn Cult, an instinctive reaction left over from his previous life.
The beam of light gradually disappeared, but the undead still stared at him with its pale eyes.
With a sigh, Phil Gray showed him the sun mark on his wrist and activated it with divine power.
The mark emitted a shimmering golden light, which dispelled the darkness like the dawn, becoming a small sun in the corridor of death.
The undead's body trembled violently, his expression began to contort and struggle, it was unclear whether he felt pain.
He reached out his hand, as if wanting to touch the light.
The pale hands were scorched black by the light.
No one knows who he was in the Dawn Cult during his lifetime, but even after death he still possesses such great strength and can use the power of the Dawn God as a spirit. So why did he perish in this Death Corridor?
Phil Gray was filled with curiosity about the undead, but he had limited time and could only ignore it and hurry on his way.
He glanced at the undead, then turned around. He kept activating the Sun Mark to light his way, and then jogged off into the unknown.
Whether it was because there were no more undead in this area or because the sun's mark had scared them away, he ran for a long time without seeing any other undead, and it went exceptionally smoothly.
"Whew—" How much further is there?
Phil Gray wiped his sweat, wanting to take a break, but when he stopped and turned around, he saw those white eyes again.
The spirits of the Dawn Cult were silently floating behind him, seemingly following him the whole time!
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