Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

The underworld, the city of the unjustly dead.

This majestic city, forever shrouded in a dark purple light, has no distinction between day and night, no cycle of sun and moon.

Countless distorted faces floated on the city wall; those were the souls of the unjustly killed, embedded in the bricks, wailing day and night, never to be reborn.

Black mist filled the city, and the cold wind was like a knife. The clanging of chains dragging on the ground and the shouts of ghost messengers echoed everywhere.

In the deepest part of the City of the Wrongfully Dead, on a high platform made up of thousands of skeletons, the Black Mountain Demon sat upright.

Today, it did not reveal its ferocious true form that was famous throughout the underworld. Instead, it gathered its demonic energy and transformed into a huge humanoid silhouette that was entirely black.

This old demon was draped in a long robe woven from countless wronged souls, and wore a crown, resembling an emperor of the underworld.

It is extremely tall; even when sitting, it is more than three zhang tall.

Below the high platform, a dark mass of ghostly soldiers and generals knelt on the ground.

They prostrated themselves on the ground, not daring to even breathe.

Layer upon layer of ghostly soldiers stretched into the distance, swallowed by the boundless black mist of the City of the Wrongfully Dead. Their sheer number was enough to make any intruder's scalp tingle.

The Black Mountain Demon held his hands in front of his chest, with a constantly churning black ball of energy floating in his palms.

Within that mass of energy, countless tiny, dark red specks of light, as fine as gossamer threads, were converging from all directions, seeping into the body through its gaps.

That is the resentment that arises in the hearts of all living beings.

Greed, jealousy, hatred, fear, despair—each negative emotion transformed into a thin, blood-red thread that crossed the boundary between Yin and Yang, and was absorbed into the body of the Black Mountain Demon.

It took a deep breath, its body swirling with black light, its massive form trembling slightly, as if savoring a jar of aged wine.

Those resentments were refined within its body, transformed into pure demonic power, nourishing its cultivation level, which had already surpassed that of an ordinary demon king.

"Hmm..."

The Black Mountain Demon let out a deep, satisfied sigh, the sound like two giant rocks grinding against each other.

It lowered its head and continued to greedily absorb the ball of resentment in its palm, immersing itself in this feast that belonged only to it.

Just then.

A faint, almost imperceptible sound pierced through the barrier between the realms of Yin and Yang, penetrating the depths of its consciousness like a needle.

The sound was intermittent, filled with endless fear and despair, as if someone was desperately screaming but something was tightly choking their throat.

"Black Mountain Venerable... save me!"

The Black Mountain Demon paused slightly in its act of absorbing resentment.

It slowly raised its head, and two points of scarlet light flickered on its face, which was shrouded in black mist.

However, the moment it stopped absorbing, the ball of resentment in its palm suddenly expanded.

The world was in chaos at this time, with corrupt officials everywhere, the government extorting and levying taxes, the people complaining bitterly, and starving people everywhere.

A constant stream of human resentment surged into the City of the Wrongfully Dead.

The Black Mountain Demon paused for only a moment, and a massive amount of resentment, now unrestrained, surged and nearly dissipated within its palm.

The two crimson lights in the Black Mountain Demon's eyes flashed for a moment, then dimmed again.

"Just an illusion," it muttered to itself in a low voice, a hint of impatience in its tone.

It lowered its head again, focusing all its attention back on the ball of resentment in its palm, and began to suck it up in large gulps.

It forcibly gathered those resentful thoughts that were on the verge of collapse and reintroduced them into its body.

For the Black Mountain Demon, these resentments from the human world are the foundation for its cultivation growth and the path for it to surpass many ghost kings in the underworld and reach a higher realm.

Compared to resentment, any external interference is insignificant.

As for that cry for help? It was probably some ignorant little demon who had suffered a loss in the human world and wanted it to step in and settle things.

In the underworld, countless demons and monsters seek its protection every day, so it has no time to deal with them one by one.

Moreover, the day of its promised in-the-world union with the old tree in the human world has not yet arrived, so logically speaking, the tree demon shouldn't be in any major trouble.

"If there is truly an urgent matter, we can discuss it on the day of our passing."

The Black Mountain Demon regained his composure and completely forgot about the faint cry for help.

It opened its mouth and inhaled, and even more resentment surged in from all directions, which it swallowed and refined into demonic power.

On the skull platform, the black mist grew thicker, and the eerie wind howled like the wailing of ghosts, causing the entire City of the Dead to tremble slightly with its breath.

The faint cry for help from the human world was swallowed up by endless resentment, like a grain of sand thrown into the sea, never to be heard again.

In the human realm, at Lanruo Temple.

The crescent moon hung like a hook, and the night wind howled through the collapsed hall.

The golden cocoon of light suspended in mid-air suddenly exploded.

Each layer of golden light transformed into a lotus petal, drifting slowly in the night breeze, emitting a soft humming sound, and finally turning into countless golden specks of light that blended into the moonlight.

Four figures landed steadily.

Those were four Arhats, still bare-chested and muscular, their muscles gleaming with an even deeper golden luster under the moonlight, appearing more solid and robust than an hour ago.

His already bulging muscle lines became even sharper, each muscle looking like an alloy hammered out one hammer blow at a time, with such distinct contours that it was almost like a sculpture.

The four slowly turned around, their gazes passing over the ruins to Shen Jue on the Buddha's carriage. They all clasped their hands together and bowed in respect.

"Reporting to the abbot," the leading Arhat said, his voice deeper and more resonant than before.

"The Tree Demon Granny has been completely destroyed, both in body and spirit."

Shen Jue sat up from the Buddhist palanquin.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"I thought I'd have to wait several months."

The four Arhats exchanged a glance, and a satisfied smile appeared on their faces simultaneously.

Their smiles were honest and simple, like four farmers who had just finished a big bowl of braised pork, a stark contrast to what they had just done in the cocoon of light.

"It's over," one of the Arhats replied.

"Although that old demon had a thousand years of cultivation, the four of us brothers, by circulating the Righteous Qi of Heaven and Earth, refined that old demon in a very short time."

Shen Jue nodded and turned his gaze to the area behind the four people.

Where the giant black Bodhi tree, tens of meters tall, once stood, there is now nothing left.

The tree trunk and branches had all vanished without a trace, leaving not a single leaf behind.

There was only one huge depression in the ground, which was the cavity left when the tree roots had driven deep into the ground.

A night breeze blew by, and in the very center of the depression, a pile of ashes was swept up by the wind and slowly drifted away.

The tree demon, Granny, which had lingered in Lanruo Temple for hundreds of years and devoured countless innocent lives, was reduced to a pile of ashes scattered by the wind.