This guy was no lightweight; he quickly completely enveloped Yang Xiao's shadow. In an instant, a cold sensation wrapped around Yang Xiao's entire body, as if his veins had filled with ice.
His limbs felt cold, and his body stiffened bit by bit. Yang Xiao was losing control over his body.
Using the last of his strength, Yang Xiao twisted his body and swung his horsetail whisk behind him, but there was nothing there.
"Huff—, huff—"
Once freed from that eerie force's oppression, Yang Xiao could finally breathe normally. At the same time, the frozen sensation disappeared. He could freely control his body as if everything that happened earlier was just an illusion created under tremendous pressure.
But Yang Xiao knew clear that this was not possible. There had indeed been something behind him just now, almost touching his back.
It was a ghost.