I have a city in another world

The gale-force winds of the dimensional secret realm seemed to be frozen, stagnating within three feet of Tang Zhen and his companions.

That menacing ghostly hand was truly etched with the word "eerie" into its very bones—its surface, as black as ink, was covered with ancient, dark red runes. These runes were not inanimate objects but rather seemed to be alive, slowly writhing. With each contraction, wisps of black energy seeped out, and upon landing, they corroded fine pits, exuding a contradictory aura of decay and holiness.

The ghost hand's structure was desolate, with protruding knuckles like withered bones. Unknown dark red fragments were embedded in the nail crevices, as if it had just been pulled from a pile of corpses on an ancient battlefield. Each finger was as thick as an adult cultivator's thigh, and when the five fingers were spread out, the shadow could almost cover half of the valley.

What's even more chilling is the scene between the runes. The eyeballs, large and small, are like inlaid jewels, yet more terrifying than the most vicious curses—the smallest eyeball is only the size of a fingernail, while the largest is as round as a head. They open and close frequently without any regularity, and the whites of their eyes are filled with thick, spiderweb-like blood vessels, as if they are enduring endless pain and rage.

The pupils of these eyeballs have all sorts of strange shapes. Some are vertical pupils like snakes, some are horizontal pupils like eagles, some are split star-shaped pupils, and some eyeballs don't even have pupils, just a pitch-black void.

But regardless of the type of pupils, they all flowed with the same extreme coldness and cruelty, an indifference that looked down on all living beings, as if in their eyes, Tang Zhen and the other two were nothing more than ants that could be crushed at will, not even worthy of their attention.

A powerful aura emanated naturally, like a mountain collapsing. It wasn't a deliberate release of pressure, yet it was more terrifying than the aura of any high-level cultivator.

Feng Jiu Kui felt his throat tighten, as if an invisible hand was gripping his neck, making it extremely difficult to breathe. His heart felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, each beat accompanied by a tearing pain.

Xiao Ningmei, who was beside him, was in no better condition. This female cultivator, who had already advanced to the fifth level, was now as pale as paper, her forehead was covered with beads of cold sweat, her knuckles were white from gripping the long sword, and her whole body was trembling slightly uncontrollably.

The most terrifying aspect of this aura is that it directly affects the level of the soul.

If it were someone with a weak mind, they would have already collapsed to the ground, trembling, uttering pitiful cries, and becoming a lamb to the slaughter.

Although Feng Jiu Kui's cultivation was only at the third level, he had crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood. Even so, his soul was buzzing under this pressure. The illusion of being torn apart by the ghost hand kept flashing through his mind. The fear that went deep into his bones made him almost want to turn around and run away.

"What...what is that?!" Xiao Ningmei's voice trembled uncontrollably as she stared intently at the void behind the ghost hand.

Following her gaze, everyone was immediately shocked—in the void behind Ghost Hand, a massive phantom, as large as a hill, vaguely appeared.

The phantom was shrouded in thick black mist, appearing and disappearing intermittently, with only a rough outline barely discernible: it wore an unknown, ferocious crown, its body so thick it could support a patch of sky, and even the half-revealed face was enough to send chills down one's spine.
It was a face devoid of expression, its features as hard and sculpted as a sculpture. Its eyes were tightly closed, yet it still exuded a cold and domineering aura that seemed to look down upon the world, as if nothing in the world was worthy of its attention.

“This ghostly hand… was formed from the remnants of a god,” Feng Jiu Kui swallowed, his voice hoarse. “That phantom… could it be…”

He dared not say what followed, but the answer had already emerged in the minds of the three of them—it was very likely a true god!

The thought of this possibility made Feng Jiu Kui and Xiao Ning Mei tremble with fear, and a panic from the depths of their souls spread uncontrollably.

Mortals revere deities because of the unknown and legends, but cultivators have a deep-seated fear of them.

They understood better than mortals that the gap between gods and cultivators was like an insurmountable chasm. In the eyes of those high and mighty beings, ordinary cultivators were no different from ants on the roadside.

Those cold and ruthless gods can easily annihilate countless living beings or even destroy a small world with a single thought.

Unless they are desperate, most cultivators respect the gods but keep their distance. Even if it is a relic left by the gods, they have to consider whether they have the life to take it.

Ironically, the more reverent the gods are, the more cultivators covet divine remains and treasures. The residual divine power contained within divine remains is enough to allow low-level cultivators to ascend to the heavens in one step and high-level cultivators to break through bottlenecks. This temptation is enough to drive countless people to take risks.

Like this group of people, Xiao Ningmei, whose cultivation level was the highest, was only level five, while most of the others were cultivators of the third or fifth level, yet they dared to venture into the dimensional secret realm opened by this demon god.

To put it bluntly, it's a case of "people die for money, birds die for food." Everyone harbors a gambler's mentality, believing they might be the lucky one to reap the benefits in the secret realm and then escape unscathed.

But at this moment, when they faced this seemingly divine being, all their wishful thinking collapsed instantly, leaving only a feeling of utter devastation.

Even though the phantom before them was not a real god, but merely a projection of the remnants of a divine being's will, the oppressive aura emanating from an ancient god still filled them with extreme fear, making it difficult for them to even muster the thought of resistance.

Feng Jiu Kui felt his legs go weak, almost collapsing like mud. The fear that was terrifying made his vision go black, and all he could hear was the rapid beating of his own heart.

Xiao Ningmei gritted her teeth and endured, but the trembling deep within her soul was uncontrollable. She knew that with her level five cultivation, she was nothing more than a slightly stronger ant before this ghost hand. Once touched, her soul would inevitably suffer fatal damage, and she might even die instantly. As for Feng Jiukui, a level three cultivator, he had no chance of survival whatsoever.

However, just as the two were on the verge of collapse, Tang Zhen, who was standing at the front, remained calm and composed.

He crossed his arms and stared indifferently at the approaching ghostly hand, as if the scene before him, which was enough to terrify even a high-level cultivator, was nothing more than a child's prank.

"bluff."

The four words were uttered softly by Tang Zhen, but they clearly reached the ears of Feng Jiu Kui and Xiao Ning Mei.

Both of them were stunned, and then found it even more unbelievable—this was called bluffing? Then what would be real terror?
They could even imagine that if the being behind Ghost Hand heard these words, it would be so angry that it would unleash divine punishment on the spot, causing Tang Zhen to suffer eternal torment.

But as it turns out, Tang Zhen's assessment was not arrogant.

The threat of that ghostly hand was real. With every inch it approached, the surrounding space distorted, the runes flickered with increasingly eerie light, and the eyeballs spun faster and faster, emanating a malice that was almost tangible.

But Tang Zhen seemed completely unaffected, still standing in the same spot with an eerily calm expression.

At the critical moment, the ghost hand suddenly accelerated, its five thick fingers curled up, and with a whistling sound that tore through the air, it fiercely grabbed at the three of them.

The black energy seeping from the fingertips transformed into hideous ghostly faces in the air, emitting piercing shrieks as if trying to suck away people's souls. Feng Jiu Kui and Xiao Ning Mei's expressions changed drastically, despair now etched on their faces.

Just then, Tang Zhen finally moved. He slowly raised his right hand, his fingers forming complex hand seals at an extremely fast speed.

His movements seemed slow, yet they carried a strange rhythm, as if in harmony with the laws of heaven and earth. With each handprint, a faint ripple spread through the surrounding space.

At the same time, he began to chant an ancient incantation in a low voice. The incantation was obscure and difficult to understand, with strange syllables, but it contained a vast amount of energy. As the incantation was chanted, a faint golden light began to appear around Tang Zhen.

The next instant, an invisible barrier suddenly appeared in front of the three of them.

This barrier radiates no light, yet it seems to be an ancient, indestructible fortress.

The ghostly hand crashed down with a devastating force, like a surging wave crashing against a reef, producing a dull, deafening roar.

Shockingly, the seemingly unstoppable ghostly hand was actually blocked the moment it hit the barrier, and then, like fragile glass, it was torn into countless fragments by the invisible force emanating from the barrier.

Amidst the flying fragments, countless jagged cracks appeared on the surface of the enormous ghostly hand, from which a dark red liquid, like blood, seeped out. The entire ghostly hand trembled, as if it were a piece of porcelain about to shatter, ready to collapse completely at any moment.

"It...it blocked it?!" Feng Jiu Kui's eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief, then a surge of joy welled up inside him, and he almost cheered out loud.

Xiao Ningmei also let out a long sigh of relief, her tense body instantly relaxing. Her clothes, soaked with cold sweat, clung to her body, but she felt fortunate to have survived a disaster.

As long as the ghost hand is destroyed, they still have a chance to survive! At this moment, Tang Zhen became their only lifeline, and their eyes were fixed on Tang Zhen, filled with hope and reliance.

However, Tang Zhen's expression remained unchanged; instead, his gaze grew even more solemn.

He stared intently at the obscured ghostly hand, his brow furrowed, as if he had sensed something.

Sure enough, the next second, an extremely angry roar resounded throughout the entire secret realm. The sound seemed to come from the ancient abyss, containing endless majesty and rage, making people's eardrums hurt and their souls tremble.

"A bunch of ants, daring to defy the gods! They deserve to die!"

The voice did not enter their minds through their ears, but resounded directly in their souls, carrying an undeniable majesty.

Feng Jiu Kui and Xiao Ning Mei's faces turned deathly pale again. They knew how terrifying the wrath of the gods could be.

Legend has it that when a god wants to vent his anger, he can use special means to make his target suffer the pain of death ten thousand times. Each death is incredibly real, and the torment is a thousand times more terrifying than death itself.

Clearly, Tang Zhen's counterattack thoroughly enraged the other party.

In the eyes of this being who seemed to be a god, cultivators who were like ants were not worthy of having the right to resist. Tang Zhen's actions were the ultimate desecration of the god's majesty.

As expected, the attacks that followed were even more ferocious.

The cracked ghost hand suddenly stopped collapsing, and a large amount of viscous, dark red liquid gushed out from the cracks. The liquid wriggled and gathered in the air, quickly repairing the ghost hand's injuries.

Moreover, countless fleshy tendrils suddenly sprouted from the gaps in the runes on the surface of the ghost hand. These tendrils writhed like venomous snakes and were densely covered with miniature human heads and eyeballs.

The heads were contorted in pain, emitting various shrill screams, while their eyes were fixed on Tang Zhen and his companions, revealing resentment and madness.

The ghostly hand moved again, this time several times faster than before. Its fleshy tendrils danced like countless whips, carrying a foul stench, and crashed fiercely into the invisible barrier.

Just as it was about to touch the barrier, the ghost hand suddenly contracted, transforming into a giant fist. The runes on the fist flickered wildly, and at the same time, a semi-transparent magic circle appeared.

The magic array was incredibly complex, covered with obscure divine runes, radiating immense divine power and providing various incredible enhancements, causing the power of this punch to increase several times over.

In an instant, the fist collided violently with the invisible barrier.

There was no earth-shattering noise as expected, not even a sound, but the three of them could clearly feel the violent tremors in the space, like an invisible tide spreading outwards.

Feng Jiu Kui and Xiao Ning Mei were like fallen leaves in a gale, unable to stand firm. They were swept up by the shockwave and slammed hard against the rock wall behind them with a dull thud.

The two struggled to their feet, their bones feeling like they were about to fall apart, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths, looking utterly wretched.

Completely ignoring his own injuries and the bloodstains from the corner of his mouth, he immediately looked up anxiously at Tang Zhen, who was blocking his way.

Their lives now rested entirely on Tang Zhen's shoulders. Could Tang Zhen withstand this attack, which was several times more terrifying than before?

Tang Zhen remained standing in the same spot, his figure as upright as a pine tree, though his face was slightly pale.

The invisible barrier rippled violently under the impact of the fist, its light dimming considerably, but it still stubbornly held on, showing no signs of breaking.

He stared at the relentlessly pressing ghostly hand, a cold glint in his eyes. His incantation quickened, and the hand seals on his right hand became increasingly complex. (End of Chapter)