The shrieking grew very close.
Just a moment later, Fang Zhen saw seven or eight strange spirit bodies floating out from the depths of the Path of the Dead.
"Wraiths!" Avera cried out, her voice turning sharp and clearly filled with fear.
Fang Zhen also got a clear look at the approaching spirit bodies.
They were translucent, human-shaped souls with a hazy, gray appearance. For the most part, their bodies were intact and almost indistinguishable from humans. They even wore clothes, though the styles were so varied they seemed to come from different countries, or even different eras.
But the wraiths' faces were all numb and apathetic, seemingly expressionless, which gave off an eerie feeling.
They had legs, but they floated as they flew, some even tumbling through the air.
The wraiths were just over ten meters from Fang Zhen.
He could clearly feel the air around him turn cold.
Fang Zhen took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his spear.
