Feng Qing, the king of Nie Zheng of the Di Dynasty, immediately sent an envoy to the Pandora Plain to negotiate with the orcs, and at the same time dispatched the Phoenix Legion and the Nirvana Legion to the Storm Fortress, and the entire dynasty entered a pre-war state!

In fact, Feng Qinglang and Anu both know that Jagassi had made a promise to the orcs, and now there is an accident in Jagasi, and the promise cannot be fulfilled, and now people come to collect debts.

At such a historical moment where the smoke of gunfire was everywhere at any time, Feng Qinglang left a stand-in in his study, and the political situation was temporarily controlled by Anu, and he himself secretly went north, through the Flying Dragon Desert, all the way to the edge of the legendary undead canopy.

The canopy of the undead, also known as the dark canopy in history, is composed of endless clouds of gray and black smoke, where the lower undead can escape the divine punishment of the sun.

Now, Feng Qinglang stood under the canopy of the undead, with an endless army of skeletons in front of him, resisting in front of him, pointing the spear in his hand at him without sorrow or joy.

He looked at the magnificent smoke cloud above his head, and the faces that slowly formed in the depths of the smoke cloud, he calmly stretched out his right hand, and his left hand reached out, slashing fiercely.

Silver-gray blood dripped on the charred black land, and on the canopy of the undead, one of the faces moved the corners of his mouth with difficulty, as if trying to express a smile: "Welcome home, child of the Holy Clan!"

All the undead knights dismounted, knelt down on one knee, and rested their right hand on their left shoulder, as if they were human knights, and the low-level skeletons followed suit and fell to the ground.

It's obviously funny, but when the endless army of the undead is all like this, it really shocked Feng Qinglang's heart.

He didn't know what kind of undead etiquette to respond to, so he simply continued to ride his horse forward, and the undead gave way one after another.

This is a world almost filled with smoke and mist, and it is completely impossible to see the world around it, only a dark yellow light, leading the way, here, there is no life, the horse under Feng Qinglang's crotch can't stop snorting, it is the instinctive fear of animals.

Feng Qinglang could only keep swinging his whip, following the light cluster, looking at the north, and moving straight forward, he could vaguely feel that in the distance behind those smoke clouds, there were a large number of low-level undead sleeping in these scorched black land, if he was just a pure-blooded human, I am afraid that these sleepers would wake up immediately and pounce on him frantically.

When he reached the position where he was almost close to the altar of the dead, the horse under Feng Qinglang's crotch fell directly on one knee, and he refused to take a step forward.

Feng Qinglang could only change to walking, under this undead canopy, the power seemed to be continuously transmitted, but it didn't take much effort, and he could keep moving forward at a high speed, at the same time, he was always staring at the depths of his spiritual sea, as long as Di Allen sensed it, he would communicate as soon as possible.

However, it is a pity that the magnificent altar of the dead did not move Di Allen in the slightest, and Feng Qinglang could only continue to go north.

There is no concept of day and night here, the endless black scorched earth and endless fog are the eternal theme here, Feng Qinglang can only roughly estimate, it took about another day, and the yellow light finally stopped.

Then, it floated up slowly, until it was a hundred meters away, and with a bang, it lit a huge torch stand, an extremely ancient ballad, as if it sounded in the ears, accompanied by a whispering incantation, eleven silver-gray seats, rumbling out of the black earth, and it took a long time for the dust to settle, arranged in a semicircle, facing Feng Qingqing.

The faint song in my ears came to an abrupt end, and eleven undead spirits emerged from the depths of the mist and took their seats.

Feng Qinglang's heart moved, this is the legendary Council of the Dead.

These eleven councillors were all hiding in black cloaks, and the brim of their hats was drawn so low that it was difficult for people to see their true faces, but Feng Qinglang could see that there were six of them, and there was only a whirlpool of chaos inside the brim.

"Welcome back, child of the Holy Clan!" the black-robed man in the center of the seat said, his voice was extremely old, Feng Qinglang even heard this voice, and couldn't help but think of the dusty bookshelves, the endless cobwebs in the ancient mansion.

"Please forgive some of our councillors for not being able to meet you in your true form. The canopy of the dead is no longer what it used to be. ”

Listening to the voice full of sighs of emotion, Feng Qinglang felt a little resonance in his heart, and he just hoped that Di Allen could wake up and give guidance for the future. Yin was already a little impatient with their sudden blockade, and he just wanted to continue north.

Another undead councillor asked, "You're here, so are they dead?"

A somewhat strange question, Feng Qinglang understood it, and replied logically: "Yes, I came, and they are all dead." ”

Eleven sighs of varying heights.

"Children of the Holy Clan, not everyone supports their actions this time, I can feel your dissatisfaction...... But anyway, we're glad you came. After all, it's been years since our Holy Clan had seen a noble undead demon as noble as your bloodline......"

"We cooperated with Long Harin, in addition to him becoming one of us, more importantly, the time of the thousand-year tribulation of our Holy Clan is approaching, and then the dark sky will be full of holes, and a large number of clansmen will die because of it......"

"Long Harin promised to create opportunities and soil for us to fight, and our dark canopy has not been replenished for too many years......"

"We need the blood and resentment of the living to replenish the undead canopy for the next thousand years!"

“......”

Listening to these undead councillors stating the situation of the undead world one after another, Feng Qinglang, who had no sense of racial identity at all, couldn't help but interrupt: "Even if the entire undead world is destroyed in one fell swoop, what does it have to do with me?"

This caused the great flames to freeze, and the Council of the Dead fell silent.

The black robe in the center buzzed: "Child, just by your words, we can pronounce you a rebellion." ”

Feng Qinglang couldn't help but smile and said: "In order to live longer, you have been hiding in this black land all year round, and any bit of strength consumption may burn out your last life fire, do you still remember what you looked like when you were a peerless powerhouse?"

One of the undead councillors roared angrily, "Young people of the new generation, do you want to declare war on the council?"

Feng Qinglang said: "If I want, I am indeed sure to kill all of you! But this is meaningless, I came this time to seek inspiration, and I must go all the way north! If you call me to stop, just to say some nonsense, then please forgive me for not being accompanied!"

One after another, the undead councilors stood up, raised their right hands, and pointed at Feng Qinglang, but they didn't say a word, like a sculpture!

The black robe in the center of the center stationed his crutches and shouted to his colleagues: "Calm down! When you first became a saint clan, you also had a sense of belonging to your original race, which is natural. In front of us, we are just a new generation who has just become a saint!"