Standing atop the golden flower, Mu Qing tilted her head almost simultaneously, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.
The stench of decay thickened abruptly, and from the far reaches of the Bone Wasteland, a thunderous roar erupted, followed by a rolling tide of gray-white yin energy surging forth.
This gray mist stretched endlessly beyond sight, and wherever it passed, bones on the ground rose one after another, forming grotesque skeletons of varying shapes.
These skeletons, large and small, glowed with crimson eyes as they turned their gazes toward the abyssal demons led by Six-Legs and others.
In the blink of an eye, the gray mist was upon them.
The lower-tier abyssal demons stirred uneasily.
Han Li’s expression shifted slightly, and he couldn’t help but glance at Mu Qing before him.
Her face remained calm, showing no trace of surprise, as if she had anticipated this long ago.
Just as Han Li was puzzled, a low shout came from the rear of the group. Two blood-red streaks shot out from the ranks of the puppets, charging toward the oncoming gray mist.
With two loud *bangs*, the crimson streaks transformed into bloody winds mid-flight, colliding violently with the gray mist.
A series of deafening explosions erupted between the blood winds and the gray mist, forming two towering whirlwinds that shot into the sky.
The mingling of gray mist and blood winds unleashed a storm of thunderous roars, sweeping up the newly awakened skeletons nearby and grinding them to dust.
However, the remaining skeletal forces, shrouded in gray mist, took to the air, surging toward the abyssal forces hovering at low altitude.
In an instant, the sky was half-obscured by the dense swarm of skeletons—countless in number. Han Li was stunned!
At that moment, the white-haired beauty at the forefront let out a sinister chuckle. With a swift spin, a colossal, disheveled ghostly figure emerged behind her, swelling to hundreds of feet tall in an instant.
The ghostly figure suddenly opened its maw, spewing forth a torrent of green mist that engulfed the skeletal horde in the sky.
A bizarre scene unfolded.
The skeletons touched by the green mist instantly lost their gray aura, crumbling apart and raining down from the sky.
The green mist, seemingly endless, combined with the two crimson whirlwinds to clear the sky of skeletons in moments—without Mu Qing or Six-Legs needing to lift a finger.
Witnessing this, Han Li couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.
As the crimson whirlwinds dissipated, the two blood-robed figures reverted to streaks of red light and shot back. Meanwhile, the green mist dispersed, and the colossal ghostly figure behind the white-haired beauty vanished in a flash.
“Just some minor yin-bone fiends—the easiest foes to deal with in the Netherworld River. What comes next won’t be so simple,” Mu Qing murmured, gazing at the distant sea of bones.
Her words seemed both a soliloquy and a warning.
Han Li and Jin Ling nearby heard her clearly and exchanged glances.
Han Li wore a thoughtful expression, while Jin Ling’s furry face remained impassive.
Under Six-Legs’ command, the abyssal forces pressed onward.
—
Two days later, above a blood-red swamp, swarms of crimson bats frenziedly attacked the abyssal demons.
When torn apart or slain, these bats would reassemble from their scattered remains, recovering fully. Only repeated destruction or fire-based spells could permanently kill them. Once they latched onto an abyssal demon, they would voraciously drain its essence, reducing their prey to withered husks in mere moments.
The bats ranged from several feet long to mere inches, with the largest dozen boasting humanoid faces and spewing crimson beams. Any demon struck by these beams instantly turned to dust.
Their power was so immense that even high-tier demons couldn’t withstand a single hit.
Thus, this time, not only did all the demons join the fight, but the four demon kings also unleashed their might, systematically hunting down the human-faced bats.
Encased in golden lightning, Han Li watched as the bats disintegrated into wisps of blood vapor upon contact, vanishing without a trace.
Now he understood why Mu Qing and the others coveted his Divine Devilbane Lightning so much.
Clearly, many Netherworld creatures carried traces of demonic energy, making the lightning lethally effective against them.
Despite their numbers, the bats dwindled rapidly under the combined assault of the four demon kings, their puppets, and the ghost soldiers. Soon, only a sparse few remained.
The last two or three human-faced bats, sensing defeat, expelled clouds of blood mist and fled at breakneck speed, vanishing beyond the horizon in mere flashes.
—
Seven days later, within a haze of blue mist, countless shadowy specters flitted around the abyssal demons, morphing into eerie shapes.
Though they kept their distance, their ghostly wails—alternately piercing or sinister—left the lower-tier demons swaying, their eyes glazed, on the verge of collapse.
Then, a massive black bell materialized within the ranks. With a dragon-like toll, most specters scattered into nothingness, while the remnants wailed and retreated into the mist.
—
A month later, above a dark, eerie lake, a giant clad in rotting green flesh and bearing three heads stood upon the water, wielding a massive beast bone against a purple-blooded puppet of similar size.
Around them, countless lake-dwelling ghosts and abyssal demons clashed.
By now, the abyssal forces numbered fewer than ten thousand, mostly mid-to-high-tier beings. Even the eight thousand ghost soldiers and ten thousand puppets had suffered heavy losses.
On a certain day a month later…
Han Li raised a hand, and a golden flash split a bull-headed ghost in two. A sweep of gray light from behind deflected several bone arrows, while a wave of five-colored cold flames froze two green-faced fiends into ice sculptures.
Suddenly, a whistling gust of wind descended from above.
Han Li’s expression darkened as his figure blurred, vanishing from sight.
A colossal spiked club smashed into the ground where he had stood, leaving a crater several feet deep. Its wielder, a one-eyed giant corpse covered in green fur, scanned its surroundings in confusion.
Above it, Han Li reappeared in a flash of green light and pressed a palm downward.
A small black mountain materialized, swelling to a thousand feet in an instant before crashing down with a thunderous *boom*, crushing the giant and reducing nearby ghosts to dust.
Catching his breath, Han Li hovered high above, surveying the battlefield.
All around, ghostly energy and mist churned, limiting visibility beyond a thousand feet even with his Spirit Eyes.
Only the distant bursts of spiritual light and deafening explosions hinted at the abyssal demons’ desperate struggle. He couldn’t tell where the four demon kings were—or if they were besieged by the Netherworld’s fiercest ghosts.
A bitter smile twisted Han Li’s lips.
In the first half of the month, despite constant battles, their progress had been steady. But in the latter half, the dozen perilous zones they crossed lay eerily empty of ghosts.
Some of these places housed spirits even the demon kings feared, prompting them to forge ghost soldiers and puppets for a forced passage. The low-tier demons, already decimated, were now nearly extinct.
Faced with this unexpected turn, Six-Legs and the others, though uneasy, pressed on cautiously.
Then, on this day, as they traversed what Mu Qing had deemed a safe plateau, countless ghosts emerged from all directions, blotting out the sky.
Led by over thirty ghost commanders rivaling Void Refinement cultivators, they unleashed dense yin mist, encircling and scattering the abyssal forces, forcing Han Li and others to fight alone.
Initially, Han Li fought alongside Jin Ling and nearby demons, but the mist—imbued with some ghostly art—disoriented anyone who strayed too far.
Despite his formidable spiritual sense and Spirit Eyes, Han Li lost contact with the others after hours of battle.
He could only faintly hear distant clashes as waves of ghosts, fearless and endless, surged toward him.
Fortunately, most were only at the Nascent Soul or Deity Transformation level, posing no real threat.
After another round of slaughter, he cleared the area momentarily, granting himself a brief respite.
But experience told him more would come soon.
His expression flickered before he waved a hand, recalling the black mountain.
With a flash of green light, he shot toward the faintest sounds of battle, aiming to escape the mist.
If all else failed, he’d release the Soul Devourer, consequences be damned.
Otherwise, this endless onslaught would grind him down to death.
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