Global Composite Master: Compositing an Undead Army from the Start-Chapter 531 - 270: Holy Devil Body! (Four in One) _2

Chapter 531: Chapter 270: Holy Devil Body! (Four in One) _2
The walls exuded a tomb-like aura, emitting a faint, decaying odor that sent shivers down one’s spine.
The light within the lair was dim, with only faint phosphorescence flickering in the murky shadows.
The air was thick with a heavy stench of decay, like the very breath of death. This miasma created an oppressive, unsettling feeling, as if every breath was tainted by death’s shadow.
Not a hint of life existed within the lair; only silence and death.
The ground of the lair was covered with sprawling, withered, yellow vines that seemed devoid of all vitality. They intertwined to form a twisted, eerie mesh, as if trapping an ancient, malevolent power.
The lair lacked any water source. The air was dry and heavy, and dust filled the atmosphere, like a deathly shroud of sand.
Chen Mo could feel an endless chill emanating from this lair, as if it were the final resting place of death and despair.
The entire lair exuded a terrifying and sinister atmosphere; every step was fraught with danger and uncertainty.
This was the domain of death, a forgotten corner that oppressed the heart with despair and fear.
Chen Mo gazed at the desolate scene then flew into the dark depths of the Dark Ghost Tomb.
As Chen Mo flew unperturbed deeper into the dark recesses of the Dark Ghost Tomb, the stench of death permeating the silent air grew heavier.
His eyes gradually adjusted to the dim environment, his gaze falling upon a massive tombstone he had sensed earlier.
The tombstone was towering and imposing, carved from somber black stone. Ancient script and patterns were etched all over it, deeply engraved with the weight of history.
The inscriptions on the tombstone were blurred and indistinct, seemingly eroded by the passage of time, yet they still radiated an air of mystery and antiquity.
Chen Mo approached the tombstone, sensing those nameless presences, as if they were beckoning him further into the crypt.
He saw an ancient emblem carved at the top of the tombstone: a twisted face, its expression a mask of pain and fear.
This emblem radiated a strange and terrifying power, sending a shiver down his spine.
Chen Mo’s gaze traveled down the tombstone to a massive stone door below.
Ancient runes were carved on the door, emitting a faint, ghostly light.
The stone door looked heavy and solid, like a gateway to an unknown, shadowy realm.
When Chen Mo pushed open the stone door, he entered the true interior of the Dark Ghost Tomb.
The tomb’s miasma was even denser here. The smooth, damp walls exuded a putrid odor.
Deep darkness enveloped the entire crypt. Only the faint blue light of a few will-o’-the-wisps flickered from the ceiling, casting dappled shadows.
The crypt floor was covered with a thick layer of dust. A faint, eerie, cold draft stirred within, causing the dust to swirl like a thick fog.
Chen Mo held his breath and stepped slowly inside. Each footfall landed with a dull thud, as if shattering the eternal silence of the crypt.
Moss and vines grew on the crypt walls, coiling like snakes and forming twisted patterns.
These vines were withered and brittle, exuding an aura of decay and desolation.
They covered the entire crypt, as if silently narrating tales of death and despair.
The interior of the Dark Ghost Tomb was filled with a sinister atmosphere that was suffocating and terrifying.
As Chen Mo stood in the darkness, the pervasive aura of death in the air was palpable.
He sensed he was about to face a devil from the abyss.
Soon after Chen Mo entered the crypt, he sensed that in its deepest part, the shadowy aura had coalesced into a colossal figure. It was The Netherworld’s God of Death, the supreme master of this lair!
The body of the Underworld’s God of Death was formed from countless ghosts and ethereal souls, resembling a dense black fog that shrouded the entire crypt.
Its form was twisted and deformed, as if spawned from the deepest abyss of a nightmare.
The face of the Underworld’s God of Death was a deformed skull, its eyes burning with a frigid blue fire that emitted a terrifying radiance.
Its own skull was riddled with cracks and indentations, as if it had endured endless torment. The fierce and cruel aura it exuded made one keenly feel the presence of death.
In its left hand, the Underworld’s God of Death held a massive scythe, its blade radiating a bone-chilling cold.
Each swing of the scythe stirred a deathly wind, its spreading cold Energy inflicting icy damage upon anyone nearby.
The scythe’s power was terrifying, capable of tearing apart both flesh and soul.
In its right hand, the Underworld’s God of Death tightly gripped a Soul Shield, shimmering with a cold light.
This shield, condensed from dark souls, was filled with malevolent power.
It could absorb an enemy’s attack and reflect a portion of the damage back, forcing attackers to suffer their own bitter consequences.
Furthermore, the Underworld’s God of Death possessed a special Skill: the ability to summon a Soul Legion.
Using its Dark Power, it could awaken countless Ghosts from the abyss to form a terrifying legion and launch a massed assault.
This Soul Legion possessed not only formidable attack power but also a horrifying deterrent force, capable of making any enemy feel the shadow of death.
The Netherworld’s God of Death, with its colossal body, icy Energy, and boundless malice, was the ultimate guardian of the Dark Ghost Tomb. It was the lord of death, destroyer of the hope and life of all who dared approach.