Qi Luo said nothing and began placing the small coffin lids back one by one. Something astonishing happened — each time a lid fell into place, it fused seamlessly with the body of the coffin, fitting together without the slightest gap.
By the time the outermost lid clicked shut, the entire thing had become a single unified whole, solid as a heart of stone, as though it had always been one piece.
“Bizarre!” Even Duan De, who had spent his life dealing with tombs and burial mounds, couldn’t make heads or tails of it. What kind of power did this small stone coffin hold?
“There’s nothing more to say about it. If Ye Fan crosses the star domains, have him send it into a spatial node along the way — bury it in the depths of the universe. Some things are not meant to be touched by the likes of us.” Qi Luo seemed to have perceived something, his expression grave beyond measure.
Duan De and the Black Emperor both leapt up simultaneously in an unprecedented show of unity. The two greedy and shameless individuals produced ten thousand reasons to oppose this course of action, loudly and passionately.
Duan De proclaimed himself a great archaeologist — facing such an immortal coffin for the first time was a monumental historical occasion, one of enormous significance to the human race. Even if opening it now was inadvisable, it ought to be studied thoroughly in the future, even under the watchful eye of an Emperor’s weapon.
As for the Black Emperor, he talked so eloquently his words could have made flowers bloom — tossing out everything from Nine Reversals Defying Heaven to the Six Paths of Reincarnation. In the end, he even elevated the matter to a question of life and death for all of humanity. But everyone knew his old habit: whenever he spotted treasure, his feet stopped moving. He was infamous for “turning on friends.” This was clearly… one of his episodes.
In the end, the stone coffin was stuffed into Ye Fan’s arms by Qi Luo, who urged him that if he truly managed to leave, he must bury it in the deepest reaches of the universe. Under no circumstances could this object be kept.
They followed the group ahead into the thirty-fourth temple’s small world. The moment they stepped inside, everyone’s face changed — this place was deeply sinister.
Ghosts blanketed every hill and plain. The eerie wailing cries made everyone’s scalp crawl.
What kind of world was this? It defied comprehension. Dark shadows everywhere, wild corpses everywhere — standing packed across every inch of earth like weeds and trees. Black ghostly hands swayed in the air, endless as a field of wild grass. A cold, deathly chill seeped into the bone, making everyone tremble involuntarily.
Pang Bo stood there dumbstruck. Dongfang Ye stumbled, quickly reciting his War God Incantation under his breath. The large black dog’s fur stood on end across its entire body as it barked furiously. The sight was deeply unsettling, beyond all belief.
Everyone was frozen. All of this felt so unreal, like a nightmare. It wasn’t that they had never encountered spectral spirits before — but none had ever witnessed so many at once. Was this still the mortal realm? One could easily call it hell. This was a paradise for malevolent ghosts.
Ahead stood a mountain shaped like a volcano, wreathed in ribbons of demonic mist. The crater belched black breath as ghostly wails pierced the air. The savage corpses there were packed so densely they crawled endlessly outward.
A pall of gloom hung over everything. The entire small world was overrun with ghosts. The group who had taken the opposite approach to avoid the God-Slaying Insects had entered long ago, yet not a single one had survived — their shattered remains were spotted the moment anyone stepped inside.
“Damn it all, ghosts everywhere. There’s a huge one over there — over four meters long! Duan De, where are you?! You’re the professional — hurry up and use your best technique! I’ll be damned — catch the ghost!” the Black Emperor bellowed. By now they were nearly being swallowed whole.
Ahead, the powerful reinforcements from Da Xia, Yao Guang, and other great sacred grounds were also shouting orders. Sacred weapon fluctuations rippled outward — evidently that group had run into the same trouble.
Ancient corpse after ancient corpse. Malevolent ghost after malevolent ghost. Bodies gaunt and withered, nothing but skin and bone. Eyes hollow and vacant. Entire forms pitch-black. Fingernails long as iron hooks. Fierce and savage beyond description.
“Fat man, battle-hardened underground ghost warrior — get moving!” the Old Blind One shouted as well.
“Blast it all. In my entire life roaming the world, this Daoist Lord has never seen so many ghosts combined — and they still have flesh. What in damnation is this, karmic retribution?” Duan De cursed.
His hands, however, were anything but idle. He had already waded in, grappling messily with the ghosts — quite capably, in fact. He seized one large ghost that appeared to be a ghost general and gave it a savage thrashing.
But it was no use. There were far too many. Gnashing sounds clattered everywhere as black iron-hook claws struck each other, sending sparks flying. Duan De grew frantic — how could anyone catch this many ghosts? Never mind subduing the lot of them — just killing off the ghosts in one corner would likely finish him first.
Ye Fan pulled Ji Ziyue behind him. These things were repulsive, their hideous forms too numerous to describe.
“It’s alright, I’m not afraid. As long as you’re close, that’s enough,” Ji Ziyue said softly.
Ye Fan couldn’t understand how there could be so many corpse-ghosts. The black mountain ahead was towering and immense, its crater vomiting them like a spring — the ghosts climbing out endlessly. By now the entire small world had become a sea of ghosts, boundless and infinite, easily numbering in the hundreds of thousands.
Duan De cried out, “This Daoist Lord understands now! It’s entirely possible that the Feathering Divine Dynasty truly destroyed itself through its own doing. The shattering of the Central Province’s First Ancestral Vein was likely caused by themselves. That black ghost mountain must be connected to the dragon vein — these ghost armies were their forces used to conquer the world. Saying hundreds of thousands or even millions would be too few. The First Ancestral Vein is now overflowing with ghost energy, defying the heavens — and there’s a good reason for it!”
Everyone shuddered. This place sat atop the ancestral vein of the Central Province — and that volcanic opening almost certainly led straight down to the ancestral dragon vein underground. What had become of it? The First Divine Vein of old was now spewing ghosts.
“Damn them. Back then they must have been trying to harness the great dragon running beneath the entire Central Province, and ended up consuming their own dynasty in the process — that’s most likely what happened!” Duan De cursed.
At this point, words were useless. Everyone began fighting the ghosts. Ancient weapons and treasured artifacts were brought out. Ye Fan’s nine-colored flames burned through swaths of them at a time, producing a crackling sizzling sound as corpse oil oozed from the ghosts’ bodies.
Duan De let out a cold snort. In one motion, he flung a large handful of Blood Soil onto several people. A flood of crimson light spilled out — each person appeared to have a blazing red great dragon soaring from them, brilliant and dazzling, yet ice-cold and deathly.
This was the Underworld Soil of King Yama, possessing extraordinary properties. Against spectral ghosts, it was immensely effective. Duan De was using evil to suppress evil.
The results were dramatic. The moment the Underworld Soil appeared, every corpse-ghost in the vicinity retreated, not a single one daring to come close. The surrounding area became a void.
The Monkey King and the others tore and pulled, picking off severed ghost hands that had latched onto them one by one. Earlier the ghosts had been too numerous — they’d killed thousands upon thousands and still couldn’t stem the tide. Powerful as they were, they had nonetheless been overwhelmed.
From ahead came fluctuations from several sacred weapons — evidently the divine dynasties and sacred grounds bearing great weapons had gone berserk. With so many ghosts, anyone who entered would suffer. Only the ancient sacred might could hold them in check.
“ROAR—”
The thirty-fourth temple small world shook. A ghost howl rang out, vast and piercing, shaking both heaven and earth. From the crater of the black mountain crawled a Ghost King — hair streaming wildly, the two hollow sockets of its eyes flickering like a pair of divine lanterns.
It stood hundreds of meters tall, far more massive than any other corpse-ghost. In a few strides it descended the mountain, and one stomp downward crumbled hills and shattered rivers.
“This is a fully accomplished Ghost King — everyone be careful!” came a cry from ahead.
“Hum—”
A sacred weapon was brought forward and launched at it — yet the fully accomplished Ghost King carried a weapon of its own: a white bone staff. A damaged sacred weapon, it unleashed extraordinary power under the Ghost King’s command.
“BOOM—”
Countless ghosts across every hill and plain were shattered — tens of thousands at once — yet the human cultivators and ancient clans also suffered heavy losses. The ghost creature was remarkably ferocious: it drove the damaged sacred weapon to clash against the Five-Colored Divine Tree and others, then detonated the bone staff, unleashing an earth-shaking sacred might that ravaged those before it.
Burning the weapon’s soul to destroy all enemies — the decision was absolute, without a moment’s hesitation. One could only say that this Ghost King’s savagery made even the bravest hearts tremble.
The fully accomplished Ghost King, already gravely wounded and near death, was blasted down into the black volcanic crater and collapsed inside.
But very soon, a dozen or more Ghost Kings crawled up — bound in iron chains, crowding the crater’s mouth. They spat dark light downward, and chains of Order energy filled every inch of space, strangling the crowd below.
“BOOM—”
At the most critical moment, the Central Province’s foremost offensive Emperor’s weapon appeared. The Supreme Emperor Sword transformed into an ancestral dragon — dragon head as blade tip, dragon body as blade edge, dragon tail as hilt — and cleaved straight down.
There was no suspense. An ancient great emperor’s weapon commanded unrivaled power. It shattered the very vacuum of space and sliced downward, splitting the entire black mountain clean in two.
The thunderous boom was deafening. Nearly everyone was knocked to the ground. The foremost offensive Emperor’s weapon, the Supreme Emperor Sword — the moment it appeared, the clouds shifted and the sky lost its color. Nothing could withstand it.
The destruction was total. The limitless, innumerable corpse-ghosts were annihilated all at once. The mountain, split in two, rapidly crumbled to ash.
“Able to cleave through ten thousand worlds” was no empty boast — in the hands of a great emperor, it could truly be achieved. Even driven by those few Sacred Lords, it delivered a strike of this magnitude.
Beneath the ashes of the black mountain was a vast black hollow. Looking down into it, within the earth vein stood ancient structures — a divine hall rising tall. This was the passageway leading to the thirty-fifth temple small world.
No one dared rush in first. The Supreme Emperor Sword of Da Xia hung in the air like an eternal beam of immortal light, holding everyone in check with its unstoppable force. The Da Xia imperial clan entered the underground first.
Within the earth vein, corpse-ghosts were without end. An ancient temple sat at the center. Sure enough, this place connected to the Central Province’s former First Ancestral Vein — only the dragon energy had transformed into ghost energy.
Deep in the earth vein, countless dry bones lay scattered. Crumbled armor disintegrated to dust at the slightest touch — all dead soldiers, transformed into the innumerable malevolent ghosts.
Ghostly wails filled the air. Ghost Kings lurked in hiding throughout. This was a place of extreme danger. Hundreds of thousands of military souls bared their fangs and claws — moving through here was perilous beyond measure.
Yet with the Supreme Emperor Sword hanging in the air, not a single ghost dared approach. The members of the Da Xia imperial clan pushed open the temple doors one after another and stepped into the thirty-fifth small world.
“ROAR—”
The moment the peak Emperor weapon disappeared, every manner of ghost erupted in howls. Everyone’s face turned ashen. The sacred grounds brought out their sacred weapons and charged into the temple without hesitation — otherwise, heaven only knew how many military souls lurked out there.
If Da Xia’s armies of old had all perished here, ten million ghost soldiers appearing would not be an exaggeration. Just imagining it made the flesh crawl.
“Let’s move. The Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar — don’t use it unless necessary. Save it for the critical moment. For now, let’s draw on the might of these people around us.” Qi Luo said.
“Stay alert. We need to guard against major enemies. Make sure to cut down the Crown Prince of Heaven, Hua Yunfei, Li Xiaoman, and the others!” the Monkey King said, baring his teeth, his great staff pulsing with black light.
The thirty-fifth small world was utterly silent. Ahead, sprawling and magnificent palace halls sat in a deathly stillness. Every person who had entered stood completely motionless, not a sound to be heard.
The sacred grounds, the great divine dynasties, the ancient clans — all were watching and waiting. The atmosphere here was unlike anything before. Everyone sensed something uncanny.
At last, someone moved — stepping forward.
The grand ancient palace bore many stone carvings. In the carved images were the stone figures seen in the shrine earlier. The mythological tales depicted all revolved around that same figure. And within the ancient gate towers stood true divine statues — the same figure, resembling a Buddha, yet also like an old farmer, indistinct and blurry.
“This must truly be the founding ancestor of the Feathering Divine Dynasty. The legendary Feathering Great Emperor may well have truly existed…” Everyone felt a chill run through them.
“You have come…” Suddenly, a voice came from one of the ancient gate towers. A Dao acolyte walked out — appearing no more than eleven or twelve years of age, yet speaking in a remarkably ancient and weathered voice.
On the other side, a young girl with delicate, beautiful features descended from a lofty position within another grand palace, looking down on them all. She said, “You’ve got quite some nerve.” Her appearance was pure and innocent, but her voice sounded like that of an aged crone.
“Who are you?” The people felt a surge of dread. Two Dao acolytes appearing in this place was deeply unsettling — yet these were no ghosts. They were beings of flesh and blood, speaking to them directly.
“Don’t you know? Have you not already seen us in the stone carvings?” The two spoke in their ancient, aged voices.
Everyone shuddered. They looked back at the stone carvings filling the palace walls — and cold sweat broke out on the spot. In every carving depicting what appeared to be the Feathering Great Emperor, two Dao acolytes had always stood at his side, their features… identical to these two before them.
“These are… living people. On them is the weight of ages — and the aura of an ancient great emperor!” The large black dog trembled. It had experienced much in its time, and sensed the truth in an instant.
“The Feathering Great Emperor’s Dao Acolytes?!” Everyone stood frozen.
“The Feathering Great Emperor… is he still alive? Where… is he?” Many felt their hair stand on end. Sometimes, a living person was far more terrifying than any ghost.
“The Feathering Great Emperor is undying and naturally endures throughout the world. You have disturbed his slumber,” the two Dao acolytes said coldly.