The black mist was like ink, and the eerie wind blew through the Grand Hall, filled with white bones.

Xiao Yu stood with a sword in one hand, suddenly swinging it out, the sword light like a dragon!

The ghost bride, draped in a blood-red wedding dress, had a face as pale as paper, her eyes flickering with an eerie glow.

Her expression was strange when she looked at Xiao Yu.