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

Mass graves in the western suburbs.

The night wind was no longer just cold; it carried the smell of rust.

Those were tens of thousands of dead souls grinding their teeth.

Zhou Ran's roar rolled through the desolate graveyard, its sound waves overwhelming the mournful howl of the wind, as deep and resonant as a dragon's cry.

He raised his hand and pointed directly at Abe Haruko, who was slumped on the ground, and then at Song Wuji, whose face was completely disfigured.

"One is the legacy of the Japanese pirates, who committed atrocities here a hundred years ago and still harbor treacherous intentions today."

"One is a spineless dog who has forgotten his ancestors and is attempting to steal the nation's fate to survive, betraying his master for personal gain!"

"My esteemed predecessors, will you still use your swords to cut your own people?"

This question, imbued with the Demon Emperor's domineering power, also carried a resonance that transcended time and space, striking directly at the consciousness of the departed souls.

His response was a chilling roar.

"Eat him!!"

The black mist in the eyes of the thousands of evil spirits that were originally suppressed by the golden light dissipated, and they started to burn.

Overwhelming hatred overwhelmed all reason.

Song Wuji panicked.

He practiced evil arts for sixty years and played with eagles his whole life, but in the end, an eagle pecked out his eye and blinded him.

"No!

I am the formation master!

I am your master!

Song Wuji waved the command flag in his hand, attempting to regain control of the situation.

But this command flag, stained with black dog blood, was less effective than a fire poker in the face of overwhelming public anger.

Click.

The command flag broke.

The first evil spirit pounced on Song Wuji.

The old soldier, who only had half a body, didn't use his hands. Instead, he opened his mouth, which consisted only of his gums, and bit down hard on Song Wuji's shoulder.

It didn't bite the flesh.

It's tearing at the soul!

"ah--!!!"

Song Wuji let out a horrific scream.

The pain of having one's soul torn apart is a hundred times worse than the pain of being slowly tortured to death.

Then, the second, the third, the hundredth...

The ghost tide, like a black ant swarm, instantly engulfed Song Wuji.

Zhou Ran withdrew his protective aura and coldly observed this gluttonous feast.

Song Wuji's body was intact, not even a tear in the hem of his clothes.

His facial features were distorted to the extreme, his eyeballs bulged out and were covered in blood vessels.

Within the sea of ​​consciousness, it is torn to pieces.

Countless ghostly hands pierced the depths of the soul, tearing off even the smallest fragment, chewing it up, and swallowing it.

A true carnivore sleeping on its skin.

Zhou Ran...

Kill me...

Please...

Kill me...

Song Wuji knelt on the ground, his hands gripping the soil, his fingernails broken, his hands covered in blood.

I want to die.

Death was a luxury for him.

"Want to die?"

Zhou Ran stepped forward, exerted force with his foot, and shattered Song Wuji's kneecap.

The crisp sound was drowned out by the wailing of ghosts and wolves.

"Ask the wronged spirits of our ancestors if they will answer."

Song Wuji was utterly desperate.

His soul was mostly devoured, his memories were blurred, and his consciousness was on the verge of collapse.

The fear of watching himself disappear overwhelmed his last line of defense.

"Since you won't let me live... then we'll die together!!"

Song Wuji suddenly grinned maliciously, his twisted face filled with madness.

Instead of resisting the tearing and biting of the myriad ghosts, he opened his shattered sea of ​​consciousness, reversed his life's cultivation, and slammed it hard into the earth's node beneath his feet.

"With my remnant soul as a catalyst, I sacrifice! The wicked dragon!"

boom--!

Song Wuji's body exploded like an inflated sac, turning into a cloud of blood mist.

The blood mist had not yet dissipated; instead, it corroded the ground like strong acid.

A deep, muffled dragon's roar echoed from beneath the mass grave.

Resentment, tyranny, destruction.

The earth trembled violently, and countless tombstones collapsed like dominoes.

A crimson beam of light tore through the earth and shot straight into the sky.

The air within a ten-mile radius was sucked out, and the flowers, plants, and trees withered and turned to ash in the blink of an eye.

The pent-up resentment of the nation's fate, accumulated over a century, is about to erupt, and the western suburbs of Beijing are about to become a dead zone.

"Mad dog."

Zhou Ran cursed under his breath.

The old man didn't die cleanly; he left behind a mess.

The black light on the Qilin Arm surged, and Zhou Ran advanced instead of retreating, taking a step to the center of the ground fissure.

"Stop it!"

His left hand transformed from a palm into a claw, pressing down hard on the surging red light.

Zizizi!

The sound of a red-hot branding iron pressing against raw meat came from the palm of my hand.

The resentment was too strong. Even with the Qilin bone to suppress it, his entire left arm was still like a useless thing, with the meridians cracking inch by inch.

"White umbrella!"

Where have you been?!

Protect the formation!

Bai Xuan had already shrunk into a ball of spores, and screamed:

"Boss!"

This thing is a matter of great cause and effect!

I can't hold on any longer!

This is going to upend the earth's crust!

The fissure in the ground widened, the red light intensified, and black blood oozed from between Zhou Ran's teeth.

Speaking of repression.

All he had was the "Soul-Suppressing Wedge" in his hand.

However, given the current situation, this nail might not be enough to completely block the blockage.

At the critical moment.

Ding.

A crisp metallic clang suddenly rang out.

The roaring, churning red light paused for a moment.

Zhou Ran suddenly looked up.

A figure suddenly appeared suspended in mid-air.

That's a woman.

She did not use any magical artifacts; instead, she stood on a wisp of grayish-white mist that remained stagnant.

Her loose-fitting gray gauze dress fluttered in the wind, yet it couldn't conceal her slender and upright figure.

What's most eye-catching is her pair of bare feet.

Two red ropes were tied around her ankles, each with a rusty bronze coin hanging from its end.

The instep is porcelain white, and you can even see the pale blue veins under the skin.

It lacked any of the rosy glow of a living person, instead exuding a cold, jade-like quality.

Above that was a face that was unforgettable.

His features were so exquisite they resembled a meticulous painting, yet a thick aura of death shrouded his brows.

That deathly aura wasn't the decay of a walking corpse, but rather the indifference and alienation eroded by the passage of time, as if one had been walking on the edge of the mortal and spiritual realms for many years.

She held a palm-sized compass in her hand, her gaze not on Zhou Ran, but fixed on the gushing column of blood.

"Taiyi generates wind, Gen Mountain stops evil influences."

The woman parted her red lips slightly.

His voice was flat and monotone.

Her slender, pale fingers gently moved across the compass.

Click click click.

The compass spun, its mechanism ringing out sharply in the deathly still night.

Thirty-six bronze nails, each about seven inches long, appeared out of thin air, gleaming with a bluish light, and precisely pierced into the thirty-six locations surrounding the crack in the ground.

The nail was driven into the ground, and a bright blue light shone forth.

The originally violent and chaotic resentment of the evil dragon, like a venomous snake whose vital point has been pinched, instantly went limp, wailing as it retreated into the depths of the earth.

Only the array eye beneath Zhou Ran's feet was still gushing forth.

The woman lowered her head.

His gaze traveled dozens of meters and landed on Zhou Ran.

Calm and still, yet possessing a penetrating insight that sees through to the bone structure.

"Get out of the way."

Zhou Ran squinted.

He doesn't like being ordered around.

But this woman possessed a power that even he couldn't fathom; it wasn't spiritual power, but rather the embers of some kind of rule.

But this aura feels somewhat familiar.

Isn't this the woman who spied on him eating steamed buns earlier today?

"That's interesting."

Zhou Ran snorted coldly, exerted force with his left arm, and slammed the Soul-Suppressing Wedge into the last crack in the ground.

Using the momentum, he leaped back and landed more than ten feet away.

The woman landed gracefully.

Barefoot on the scorched, burning earth, not a speck of dust remains.

He raised his hand and pressed down.

Boom!

The ground closed up, and the red light completely dissipated.

The mass grave returned to a deathly stillness.

Only the mess on the ground proved what had just happened.

The crisis was over, but the thousands of heroic spirits that had been awakened did not disappear.

They drifted aimlessly above the desolate graves.

Although the malevolent aura on their bodies dissipated considerably with Song Wuji's death, their obsession still prevented them from leaving.

The woman did not rush to leave.

She took out an incense stick from her sleeve, gently twirled it with her fingertips, and the incense lit itself without a flame.

The wisps of smoke rose, but instead of dissipating in the wind, they gathered into a winding path that led straight into the dark void.

slam-la-

The sound of water could be faintly heard in the void.

The viscous liquid flowed slowly.

A murky, withered river silhouette slowly emerges at the end of the wisp of smoke.

The red spider lilies bloom on the other side of the riverbank, their vibrant red dazzling.

That is a tributary of the River of Oblivion.