Daoist Master, I'm really not an evil cultivator.

At the same time, in the four directions of the city—east, west, south, and north—numerous Taoist priests pulling golden threads sat cross-legged, facing the central square.

They stopped walking and instead raised their heads in unison, chanting the "Symphony of Salvation from Suffering" in a grander, more sacred and solemn tone. The sound waves overlapped, forming a hazy, purifying, and redeeming cloud above the City of the Wrongfully Dead.

Xu Changqing stood atop the city tower, his body radiating a powerful Daoist aura.

The halo behind his head shone brightly, its clear light cascading down like a waterfall, illuminating his dignified and majestic appearance.

The clear light mingled with the chanting of sutras in the city, the thunder in the sky, and the silent power of the City of the Dead beneath their feet, giving this gloomy ghost city a strange and wondrous aura, like a blessed land.

His Taoist robe moved without wind, fluttering and rustling. Dark gold patterns and the two energies of purity and turbidity flowed wildly on the robe, faintly emitting a roar like a rushing river.

"Taiyuan...enter the body."

Xu Changqing uttered four words softly. The demonic dragon circling in the sky let out a long roar, and its enormous body suddenly swooped down.

Immediately upon approaching Xu Changqing, its form abruptly blurred and contracted, transforming into an extremely condensed, pitch-black dragon shadow. It snaked and slithered like a serpent, entering Xu Changqing's collar from the back of his neck and "crawling" down his spine.

"Sizzle!"

Xu Changqing grabbed the Taoist robe behind him with his back hand and threw it upwards with a sudden movement.

The black Taoist robe transformed into a towering, blood-red wave, rising into the sky and instantly spreading out, obscuring half of the sky above the City of the Unjustly Dead.

The sea of ​​blood churned, the bloody wind howled, and countless shadows of weapons and battles seemed to rise and fall within it. This was the ultimate manifestation of the [Mysterious Robe] – the Blood Sea Asura Curtain!

At this moment, Xu Changqing's image was as majestic as a god or demon:

Stepping onto the ancient city of the dead, now fully restored and filled with eerie ghost lights;

Within its spine, the shadow of the Taiyuan Demon Dragon meandered and roamed, exuding a primordial and ferocious aura;

Above their heads, an endless sea of ​​blood surged and spread out, its murderous aura soaring straight to the heavens;

His whole body shone with a pure, round light, and the sound of chanting resonated with thunder.

It's like a world-suppressing emperor who rules the netherworld and wields power over killing and destruction descending to the mortal realm.

As the last wisp of energy returned to its fullness, Xu Changqing opened and closed his purple eyes, looking down at the two demons struggling and roaring in despair and alienation. He slowly raised his right hand, his five fingers slightly clenched, as if he held the entire city, the sea of ​​blood, and the thunderous scriptures in his palm.

The name of a person with supernatural powers naturally reflects in one's heart:

"【Killing】·【Emperor】".

Above the dome, the dark clouds shattered and crashed heavily into the surging sea of ​​blood.

In an instant, countless shooting stars with blood-red tails streaked across the night sky, cascading down like a shower of flowers, dreamlike and ethereal, resembling a magnificent and dazzling fireworks display.

The sea of ​​blood surged, every wave burned, every wisp of mist hissed, and the entire world transformed into a gigantic furnace, where all things were being forged.

Beneath the surging sea of ​​blood, Emperor Taiyuan appeared.

His face was filled with rage, and he was wrapped in a Taiyuan demonic dragon. He was like the sun at its zenith, his power overwhelming the world.

The demonic dragon was entirely black, with dark red lightning flowing between its scales. Its head was held high, its whiskers stretched across the sky like iron chains, and its eyes, when they opened and closed, illuminated the nine netherworlds and ten categories of beings.

The halo behind the Emperor's head was like mercury spilling onto the ground, gentle yet unbearable to look at, forming a strange contrast with his wrathful appearance—anger concealed compassion, and power contained sorrow.

"May the Heavenly Venerable have mercy!"

......

"Before me, the waters of the four seas stand tall; behind me, the clouds of the nine heavens hang low. What a fine Taoist priest! What a fine Taoist priest!"

On the city wall, Big Head Ghost struggled to climb up the crenellations. When he looked up and saw this scene, he was stunned for a moment, and then burst into maniacal laughter.

With a swift stroke of his bone pen, a painting titled "Emperor Taiyuan's Prison Suppression Picture" appeared on the bone tablet.

The brushstrokes are sharp and the lines are like knives, vividly depicting the aura that suppresses all ghosts.

"Wonderful...wonderful..." Big-Headed Ghost murmured to himself, his single eye filled with fascination. "This spirit...this power...though it was a hasty work, it is already the pinnacle of my life...'The Earth-Shattering Autumn Rain'...it can't compare to this..."

He stroked the lines on the bone plate with his withered claws, and suddenly his eyes stung, and two lines of bloody tears slid down his cheeks.

"Big Head, why are you crying?" Little Boots Ghost was startled.

"Big Head is happy... so happy..." Big Head Ghost choked up, "My life... hasn't been in vain... to see such a grand scene... to record such a miracle... it was all worth it! It was absolutely worth it!"

The little boot-wearing ghost, blood streaming from its eyes, clung tightly to the big-headed ghost's scalp, its voice trembling with sobs: "Big head, big head, it seems we're really going to die this time."

Big-Headed Ghost grinned, his flesh rapidly dissolving, but he didn't care at all: "Haha, even if Big-Head dies this time, it'll be worth it, as long as I can send these back."

He forcefully stuffed the stacked bone plates into his mouth and swallowed them whole.

Those bone plates were covered with everything they had seen and heard along the way—the layout of the City of the Wrongfully Dead, the tidal patterns of the Blood Sea, the weaknesses of the Joyful Corpse, the true form of the Taiyuan Emperor… Each piece was bought with their life.

Then, with a ruthless heart, he plunged his hands into his abdomen, blood gushing out, as he unleashed the [Ten Thousand Miles of Hearing Technique].

As a mysterious rune manifested on the Big-Headed Ghost, an overwhelming crimson light descended upon him.

Big Head cried out in despair, "Taoist priest, no! I only need a little more!"

Before he could finish speaking, Big Head's figure was completely engulfed in blood.

......

In the city, Huanxi Shiming suddenly felt a chill run down his spine; it was a life-or-death crisis that seeped into his very bones.

He abruptly abandoned his struggle against the City of the Wrongfully Dead, his body momentarily still, and countless large mouths sprouted from his skin, opening and closing like the wailing of a hundred ghosts in the night.

He murmured incoherently, and strange ripples spread outwards, like waves or a spiderweb, extending in all directions. Then, a voice cried out—"Master, save..."

Before the sound had even faded, the sky seemed to overflow like a celestial river, and endless Buddhist light instantly engulfed the entire City of the Wrongfully Dead.

Within the Buddha's light, a plump hand could be vaguely seen, with five fingers like pillars and palm lines like ravines, each line containing a powerful force capable of suppressing everything.

In the blood moonlight, a hazy figure looked up into the distance, a smirk playing on his lips. "Heh, such an eager response? It seems this isn't just a disciple, but also your lover, you frivolous monk. Too bad, unfortunately, you can't disturb us here."

He waved his hand lightly, as easily as wiping away water stains on the table, and the inexplicable fluctuations vanished instantly.

In the distance, a large, fat man could be vaguely seen, his face filled with rage. As his aura subtly dissipated, countless figures beneath him instantly turned into minced meat, disappearing silently like mud into the sea.

The hazy figure lowered its head slightly, a hint of appreciation in its eyes: "I didn't expect the little Taoist to be prepared. It seems I was just being presumptuous."

He paused, then added, "It's time to prepare for that matter. Little Taoist, I look forward to our next meeting."