World version update

Chapter 287 What are you all looking at?
Six thousand Yin soldiers, equivalent to the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage, might not seem like much in other versions.

Even in the Great Collapse version, the Immortal Alliance still had tens of thousands of Foundation Establishment cultivators.

However, in the mysterious version, which is restricted by the rules of extraordinary characteristics, this is absolutely a revolutionary display of power.

If it weren't for an extremely vast, possibly even unique, extraordinary path to existence, it would be impossible to support such a large number of extraordinary individuals.

This alone is enough for any force that knows the inside story to glimpse the terrifying depths contained within the underworld.

However, this was now a battlefield where life and death were at stake. Even if his heart was in turmoil, the deceased councilor would never be willing to boost the morale of others or diminish his own prestige at this moment.

"They're just ants; what use are they, no matter how many there are?"

He forcefully suppressed the horror that came from the depths of his soul, deliberately raising his voice to reassure the many members of the Council of the Dead under his command.

At the same time, he held nothing back, and the terrifying aura of a human saint belonging to the Sequence Four unfolded like a tangible dark curtain, enveloping the entire underground space.

The fourth sequence of the Dead Path is called the Styx Walker. It possesses the terrifying power to briefly recall the soul and power of the deceased from the illusory Styx River that flows between the boundary of life and death. To outsiders, this is almost equivalent to the power to reverse life and death.

It is precisely because of this ability and the natural fit between the two places that the Council of the Dead chose to place its lair, which it had been operating for thousands of years, beneath this land where countless corpses slumber.

The corpses accumulated over thousands of years are scattered all over the ground. Even though most of them have long since completely decayed and turned into dust, the number of those remains that can still be pulled by force and retain some shape is more than a million.

"Field of the Dead!"

The deceased senator pointed his withered index finger in the air, as if pressing a forbidden switch.

In an instant, the corpses buried deep beneath the great tomb suddenly broke through the decaying coffins and thick soil. The heavy aura of death accumulated on them over thousands of years gathered and rose, transforming into a visible gray-black mist.

These mists, like greedy beasts opening their invisible maws, were trying to devour all life, and the entire massive underground tomb was transforming into an absolute domain belonging only to death.

However, faced with this terrifying field that could instantly wither and die ordinary living beings, the thousands of Yin soldiers still stood as firm as rocks.

The dense death aura washed over their cold, armored bodies like a tidal wave, but it was as if it were just a harmless breeze, posing no threat whatsoever, not even causing a ripple.

These corpses, awakened by the councilors of the dead, appeared utterly vulnerable and easily defeated in the eyes of the ghostly soldiers, who had endured countless bloody battles.

During the apocalyptic version, they personally killed countless zombies and supernatural creatures of various forms, and the horrors and filth they encountered far surpassed this. How could a few corpses of the dead temporarily driven by death energy truly shake them in the slightest?
"kill!"

A decree, devoid of any emotion, fell directly from the deep void rift, like a final judgment.

The next moment, the six thousand ghost soldiers moved!

The soul-reaping chains in their hands shot out like venomous snakes in an instant, piercing through the corpses of thousands of dead who had just awakened from their slumber.

It wasn't a physical penetration, but rather a direct attack on the soul. Those fragmented souls that had been briefly summoned back to the corpses by the power of the Styx Walker were forcibly stripped away without any resistance the moment the Soul-Hooking Rope touched them, emitting a silent, mournful wail.

The figures of the ghost soldiers moved swiftly and efficiently through the sea of ​​the dead, like a group of hardworking farmers during the autumn harvest.

The corpses scattered throughout the cemetery were like ripe rice waiting to be harvested, falling in swathes before the merciless sharpness of the Soul-Hooking Rope, turning back into a lifeless pile of rotten bones and flesh.

The energy source of the dead field that originally enveloped the entire tomb was rapidly cut off, and it was dissipating at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Such a devastating scene completely stunned the deceased councilor who had just been trying to display the majesty of a demigod, leaving him rooted to the spot with disbelief and horror on his face.

It should be understood that in this field of the dead, due to the omnipresent death energy and interference from corpses, even a human saint of the same Sequence Four would be greatly restricted in his movements and would be unable to move an inch.

While the individual corpses of the awakened dead may not be particularly strong, they themselves carry the extraordinary contamination from the path of death.

If an opponent chooses to commit mass killings and become tainted with too much death and resentment, even a saint is highly likely to be corrupted and eroded, shaking their extraordinary foundation and ultimately falling into uncontrollable madness.

The Realm of the Dead can be said to be the most core, and also the most insidious and disgusting foundation, cultivated by the Council of the Dead over many years.

But now, faced with this massive army of mysterious ghost soldiers, the powerful trump card upon which the Council of the Dead relies for survival is as useless as paper.

This scene was also clearly captured in the magical round mirror of the Inquisition in the underground of the distant steam cathedral.

A knight of judgment, watching the rapidly collapsing field of the dead reflected in the mirror, couldn't help but sigh:
“Even paladins wouldn’t dare to set foot in this field of the dead easily, yet this soldier, who appears to be only Sequence Six, can be easily ignored. He is truly extraordinary.”

But another sharp-eyed and powerful individual immediately poured cold water on the idea:
"It's just that it happens to be a good counter to the dead, since the underworld in mythology has the power to suppress the dead."

This level of ability is far from enough to suppress the Council of the Dead. They have more than one councilor; if several councilors choose to charge head-on, how could a mere Sequence Six possibly harm a Saint?

As if to confirm his words, the scene in the magic mirror changed again as soon as he finished speaking.

The other four undead councilors stationed in other areas of the underground city, responsible for different defenses, had also sensed the upheaval and invasion in the core area. They had already transformed into four swift black shadows, tearing through space to reach this main battlefield.

When they saw the scene before them, with the ghostly soldiers efficiently harvesting the corpses of the dead that their council had accumulated over thousands of years, the four faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods were instantly filled with astonishment and uncontrollable rage.

"You have ruined my field of the dead, you deserve to die!"

One of the newly arrived lawmakers let out a furious roar filled with murderous intent.

With a sudden wave of his withered hand, a vast expanse of dark mist, composed of countless malevolent curses, filled the air. This black mist churned and surged towards the neatly arrayed ghost soldiers.

Wherever it passed, even the space itself seemed to be corroded, emitting a hissing sound.

This terrifying curse mist, powerful enough to instantly kill even a Sequence Five transcendent, hadn't even truly touched the cold Nether Armor of the Yin Soldiers when a dazzling golden light suddenly emanated from the body of each Yin Soldier.

The golden light was not dazzling, but it seemed to contain some kind of supreme power of rules. The surging dark mist was like ice and snow encountering the blazing sun. It melted away silently with just a slight touch, leaving not even a trace.

"how is this possible?"

The deceased councilor who made the move nearly popped his eyes out of their sockets, his face filled with incredulous horror.

The other four members of parliament, including the first one, also looked shocked.

Even the many powerful members of the church who were watching the battle from the Inquisition through the magic mirror were deeply moved.

"I seemed to sense some extremely sublime power in that golden light, which instantly dispelled those vicious curses," a Judgment Knight exclaimed in a low voice.

“This power, though weak, is of extremely high status.” A cardinal’s eyes were filled with unprecedented solemnity as he stared intently at the mirror. “Could it be from that legendary emperor?”

The mysterious version of the Great Dao is not revealed, and the Heavenly Dao is hidden in the mist. These powerful figures naturally did not know that the golden light was the merit of the Heavenly Dao.

In previous versions of the apocalypse, their ghostly soldiers underwent the baptism of heavenly merit from the Emperor's Banner, receiving the blessings of merit bestowed by the heavenly way of the apocalypse.

Heavenly virtues have a natural restraining effect on evil and filthy methods. The curse power of a mere fourth-rank saint is like an ant trying to shake a tree in the face of the magnificent Heavenly virtues.

The attack failed to achieve its intended purpose, and they couldn't even break through the opponent's defenses. This gave several of the deceased councilors a sense of foreboding, and hesitation involuntarily appeared on their faces.

However, the mysterious entity hidden behind the void rift clearly did not give them a chance to hesitate or test the waters again.

A second, cold and merciless decree followed immediately, echoing throughout the entire underground space:
"Formation!"

With this command, the actions of the six thousand Yin soldiers, who were reaping the corpses of the dead, changed in an instant.

They no longer fought individually, but began to move in an incredibly mysterious way.

Countless beams of light flowed among them, outlining a complex and ancient array.

A chilling wind rose from the void, carrying a biting cold that seemed capable of scattering one's soul. The fires of the underworld ignited silently, their dark red color seemingly not very hot, yet emanating a terrifying aura capable of scorching the soul and body.

"Buzz!" With a deep rumble, a super formation covering the entire hall of the tomb complex was instantly formed.

The moment the great formation activated, this world seemed to be completely isolated, becoming its own separate realm.

The howling wind penetrated every crevice, directly affecting the spirits; the flickering ghostly fire clung to them like maggots, burning all matter and energy.

Under the terrifying power of this formation, those members of the Council of the Dead below Sequence 5 and low-ranking undead creatures were instantly reduced to ashes before they could even scream.

Even the five deceased councilors of Sequence Four, in this core area where the eerie winds and ghostly flames intertwined, felt an unprecedented amount of pressure.

As the eerie wind blew, their spirits seemed to be torn apart, forcing them to exert all their strength to resist.

The burning of the Netherfire caused them unbearable pain, and even their defenses, built with death energy, were constantly being eroded. Suppressed and painful roars echoed throughout the tomb.

"Damn it! What kind of formation is this?!"

"Quick! Activate the sealing artifacts and break out!"

In a fit of shock and rage, the saints unleashed their most powerful sealing artifacts.

There is a bone scepter that exudes a terrifying chill, a crystal ball that can distort space, and an ancient altar that can summon powerful vengeful spirits.
They activated items containing eerie powers one by one, regardless of the cost, in an attempt to forcibly break through the blockade of the great formation and escape this perilous place.

However, just as they attempted to resist, an even more powerful aura suddenly emanated from the void rifts that filled the hall—the pure and profound aura of the Human Emperor.

This force pressed down like an invisible mountain, instantly suppressing the light of the sealed artifacts they had summoned, making them dim and even hindering the operation of their own demigod power. It was as if they were carrying the weight of the entire world, making all their resistance seem so pale and powerless.

Just as the battlefield situation took a sharp turn for the worse, and everything seemed to be a foregone conclusion, the five saints of the Council of the Dead were about to be completely refined by the great formation.

Suddenly, in the deepest part of the tomb of the dead, which was completely isolated by the formation, a voice filled with endless majesty resounded throughout the entire world.

"Who has disturbed my slumber!"

Boom! ! !

The next moment, an ancient underground coffin deep within the tomb suddenly exploded open, and a dark figure slowly emerged from it.

He wore a long, black robe symbolizing the eternal night, and a crown woven from withered thorns.

The moment he appeared, all the corpses in the entire Orank Cemetery, both on the surface and underground, seemed to be summoned by some supreme being, and they all let out screams of terror or submission.

Buried here for thousands of years, millions of the dead are completely awakened in this instant.

A death field far exceeding the combined might of the previous five councilors swept out like a tsunami, with a massive amount of the aura of the dead transforming into a phantom river that flowed incessantly.

The third path of death: The Ferryman!
The Speaker of the Council of the Dead, a living god who has existed for thousands of years.

"That old monster has finally been awakened!" Inside the Inquisition, an Inquisitor gasped.

"Tsk tsk, just awakened, yet the emanating aura has already caused a riot among the dead in the entire cemetery. Truly worthy of being an old madman who has lived for thousands of years!" another person exclaimed.

"Just right!"

Many other powerful figures, however, showed excitement and anticipation on their faces, completely disregarding the enormous crisis that the awakening of this Sequence Three might bring to the kingdom. "Only an old monster of this level can truly force out the Netherworld's trump card and reveal their true strength."

They stared intently at the image in the magic mirror, their hearts filled with anticipation.

So far, the only high-end combat power that the Underworld has demonstrated seems to be the mysterious and unpredictable Lu Yan.

Last time, Lu Yan attacked Saint Sheen so quickly that he almost crushed the opponent, and no one was able to see his true level of power and the details of his abilities.

If today, this powerful Speaker of the Council of the Dead could force Lu Yan to take action again, they might be able to see some clues.

However, just as everyone's attention was focused on the imposing and powerful Speaker of the Council of the Dead, a grand sound slowly resounded from the void rifts that filled the space above the underground tomb.

"Mortal beings who attempt to interfere with the cycle of life and death and disrupt the order of Yin and Yang have been ordered by the Ten Kings of Hell."

The voice paused, each word like a divine decree, carrying an unquestionable and absolute will:
"Exterminate them all!"

In the next instant, a golden decree, seemingly formed from the condensed order of heaven and earth, slowly fell from the void rift.

Divine light flowed above the decree, vaguely revealing a blurry phantom figure wearing a robe and a crown.

The moment this decree appeared, the massive formation below, composed of six thousand Yin soldiers, underwent another violent transformation.

The Yellow Springs Array, activated!
The power of six thousand Yin soldiers is not enough to activate the Yellow Springs Formation.

But at this moment, this great formation formed by the ghost soldiers is merely a coordinate, a temporary medium and passage.

Rumble!
As if a dam high in the sky had collapsed in an instant, accompanied by a terrifying roar like the sky falling and the earth sinking, a turbid river that had been carrying the setting sun suddenly rushed down from the void rift that manifested the decree of the King of Hell.

This is no ordinary water, but the Yellow Springs water that carries the rules of end and annihilation, containing a terrifying power that devours all life and existence.

The waters of the underworld surged with unstoppable force, instantly engulfing everything below and completely swallowing the tomb of the dead, which had been under construction for thousands of years.

Whether it be solid rock, immortal corpses, powerful undead, or the five Sequence Four Styx Walkers, they are all as fragile as sandcastles before this river that embodies the concept of the end times. They are instantly melted and disintegrated, leaving not even a trace of their existence.

"No! Impossible!"

The once awe-inspiring Speaker of the Council of the Dead, upon seeing the waters of the underworld descend, had no trace of his previous majesty and anger on his face.

He let out an extremely shrill scream, and time and space twisted in an instant, even trying to tear space apart in an attempt to escape this annihilation.

However, how could he possibly outrun the Yellow Springs, which represent the end?
But the instant his body touched the surging, turbid waters of the Yellow Springs, there was no earth-shattering collision, no violent burst of energy.

The soul and spirit of this ferryman, who has existed for thousands of years, sank silently to the bottom of the murky river, like a stone thrown into a bottomless abyss.

All his strength, all his struggles, all his existence were completely erased and annihilated the moment he came into contact with the Yellow Springs.

Ultimately, along with the tomb of the dead that was completely swallowed up, it all fell into eternal silence.

Inside the Inquisition, there was a deathly silence.

Both the knights of judgment and the cardinal stood frozen in place, as if petrified.

The pupils, magnified to their maximum size, reflected the terrifying, world-destroying scene from the magic mirror.

A demigod of Sequence Three, an old monster who had lived for thousands of years, was annihilated in an instant!

This has exceeded their understanding of the limits of power.

What's even more terrifying is that the one who made the move was not Lu Yan, whom they already knew, nor the supreme and revered emperor, but a being known as the Ten Kings of Hell.

This proves that the underworld's resources far exceed their previous guesses.

Just as everyone was in shock, the blurry phantom manifested by the decree in the magic mirror slowly raised its eyes.

His gaze was fixed ahead, seemingly ignoring the existence of the magical round mirror, and he descended directly into the Inquisition.

Immediately afterwards, a voice resounded deep within their souls:
"What are you all looking at?"

(End of this chapter)