After I stopped trying, a rich woman trained me into a demon emperor.

Qiao Kun's hand was still pointing in mid-air, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

Three hundred feet ahead, the road to the underworld was cut off by thick fog.

Two flags stood upright on the edge of the fog.

The flag on the left is entirely black, with an open judge's pen embroidered on it, the tip dripping dark liquid.

Ghost blood.

A half-chain was wrapped around the top of the flagpole, with a dried ghost head hanging from the end of the chain.

The one on the right is crimson, with a fire pattern burning on its surface, and half a vertical eye embedded in the center of the fire pattern.

The flagpole was stuck diagonally on the corpse of a bird-like underworld official.

The underworld messenger lay in the mud, his hand still gripping the hilt of his knife, his five bony fingers clenched tightly.

Two flags stood side by side in the middle of the road.

As the eerie wind passed, the banner fluttered wildly, and ghostly blood flowed down the patterns.

The five underworld messengers all took a half step back.

Zhou Ran and Meng Po stood at the front and did not step back.

Qiao Kun swallowed hard, narrowed his large, round eyes, and stared at the flag for three breaths.

"The one on the left is the black banner of judgment."

His throat tightened, and the words were squeezed out.

"The personal banner of the Fifth King of Hell."

Only his direct subordinate Yin commanders are entitled to wear this thing.

Zhou Ran asked:

"right."

Qiao Kun stared for a while longer, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Uninterrupted Fierce Pattern".

The mark of the Eighth City King.

Only the instruments of torture in the Avici Hell are engraved with these fiery eyes.

He swallowed the rest of his sentence.

Two flags side by side.

The Fifth Hall and the Eighth Hall have joined forces.

There are at least two palaces of soldiers defending the front.

The crucial passage to the underworld was completely blocked by the rebels.

Qiao Kun turned to look at the other four underworld officials, his lips twitching slightly.

He wants to find flexible employment again.

But before she could finish speaking, Meng Po stopped in her tracks.

The old woman held the chipped porcelain bowl, brought the rim close to her nose, and smelled the soup noodles.

The soup was covered with gray oil, the color of which was similar to the ghostly mist in front of them.

Then he looked up and swept his gaze across the muddy ground on both sides of the road.

"Not just two halls."

Qiao Kun shrank his neck.

"The soul-binding stakes of the Sixth King of Biancheng are buried in the soil on both sides of the road."

Stepping on it will shatter your soul on the spot.

The five underworld messengers bowed their heads in unison.

The soil underfoot was flat, with hardly any grass roots.

But once Meng Po spoke, no one dared to ignore her.

This person has guarded the Bridge of Helplessness for countless years.

She said there was something in the mud, so there must be something hidden in the mud.

A purple-gold light shone in Zhou Ran's eyes.

He took in the view of the scene five hundred feet ahead.

Dark red bone stakes are densely embedded in the soil on both sides of Huangquan Road.

Each bone stake is about three feet long, made from human bone, with a sharpened head and engraved tadpole-like intaglio patterns on the body.

The arrangement of the bone stakes is very orderly.

One circle after another, arcs upon arcs, intersecting and spreading out, forming a net hidden underground.

Soul-Binding and Dao-Locking Formation.

Li Zhiyao once mentioned this formation.

The route for the ghost soldiers' march was specially sealed off.

If a soul steps on a node of the array pattern, it will be shredded within a breath, leaving not even a remnant.

There was something even more conspicuous in the middle of the road.

About a hundred feet away from the two rebel flags, there stood a watchtower made of human bones.

The bones were very fresh; it was clear the animal had been killed recently.

The watchtower was over three zhang tall, with an iron pole horizontally attached to its top.

Three heads were hanging on the iron pole.

The mouths of the three heads were all sewn shut with wire, and eerie green flames burned in their eye sockets.

The official markings remaining on the three heads all belonged to legitimate underworld inspectors.

Qiao Kun took a few steps closer, squinted at him for a long time, and then his face fell.

"The second one from the left..."

His voice sounded as if it had been scraped by gravel.

"Old Cui."

Qiao Kun stared at that head, pursing his lips repeatedly.

"The outer patrol judge of the three palaces, late stage of the Golden Core realm."

He had been in the underworld for over a thousand years, was highly senior, and had a good reputation.

Everyone calls him Sixth Master.

The head was hanging on the iron pole.

The leopard's tail tucked into its crotch.

The other Yin generals were muttering life-saving ghost scriptures under their breath.

Zhou Ran withdrew his demonic eyes, the purple-gold light in his eyes faded, and his expression remained unchanged.

"Meng Po".

"Um."

"Is this the only road to the Third Hall in the Underworld?"

"right."

Meng Po continued walking forward, her steps very slow.

"If this road is cut off, the Third Palace will become an isolated island."

Perhaps sensing that Zhou Ran was having second thoughts, Meng Po added a sentence.

"Grand Commander, let me add one more thing."

"explain."

"After the River of Oblivion is sealed off, no newly deceased or living soul can pass through the Gates of Hell or cross the River of Oblivion."

Zhou Ran stopped in his tracks.

"They will remain in the world of the living."

After more than three days, they all became unclaimed, wronged souls.

If it lasts more than seven days, it will turn into a vengeful ghost.

Zhou Ran lowered his gaze.

"The wronged souls cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation."

"right."

Meng Po raised her eyelids slightly.

"The rebels love the wronged souls who cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation the most."

"Tie them together with chains, and you can push them onto the battlefield."

Zhou Ran pondered in his heart.

In Jiangcheng alone, hundreds of people die every day, both naturally and accidentally.

Not to mention nationwide.

Zhou Ran tightened his five fingers.

The group of people in front of them weren't blocking their way at all.

They are clearly waiting here to expand their army.

Over the course of three days, tens of thousands of innocent souls were left unclaimed across the country.

Without trial or reincarnation, they were all taken by the rebels and became expendable on the battlefield.

The longer the River of Oblivion is sealed, the more souls will remain in the mortal realm.

The more living souls there are, the more abundant the rebel army's manpower will be.

Within Zhou Ran's dantian, the Golden Core of the Heart trembled gently.

He circulated his magical intent once, suppressing the rising killing intent.

"Therefore, the River of Oblivion has frozen over..."

The soup noodles in Meng Po's bowl wobbled slightly.

"They protected the immediate defensive line, but they were also feeding the rebels."

She raised her head, her old eyes gazing at the rebel flag in the fog.

"Three days is the limit."

Zhou Ran turned around and glanced at Qiao Kun.

Qiao Kun wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Grand Commander, look at this formation ahead..."

There were at least several thousand rebels.

"I know."

Zhou Ran looked away.

"But I only have three days."

He took a step forward.

My left foot is on the edge of the soul-binding stake.

The underground bone stake emitted a low hum, and a dark red light shot up from the mud, wrapping around his ankle.

Golden patterns lit up on the soles of Zhou Ran's feet.

The black and gold patterns spread out along the sole of the boot, colliding with the dark red light.

The dark red light shattered on the spot and disappeared back into the mud.

This kick also alerted the watchtower.

The three green fire heads on the iron pole rotated in unison.

Align the empty eye socket with Zhou Ran's.

The wire used to sew the mouth shut was stretched taut, and the flesh tore open under the wire.

The next instant, all three heads opened their mouths simultaneously.

A shrill whistle erupted from the three mouths, shooting into the thick fog.

The alarm sounded throughout the road to the underworld.

A series of crisp metallic clanging sounds came from deep within the fog.

Click.

Click.

Click click click.

Hundreds of sets of bone armor stood at attention.

Hundreds of weapons were drawn at the same time.

Then, all sounds were cut off.

On the road to the underworld, only mist swirls.

A chilling voice, cold to the bone, came from the depths of the fog.

"Zhou Ran, you've finally arrived."

The person paused.

Release Lao Fan.

The thick fog parted in the middle, creating a slit.

A pale hand reached out, its wrist wrapped with half a broken chain.

The twin soul-hooking rope that Bai Wu used often had this pattern.

The iron chain in Qiao Kun's hand fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

He managed to squeeze out a few words.

"Black...Black Impermanence..."

And...and Old Niu!