Chapter Forty: All-Out War

“Boss! There are too many ghost soldiers! What should we do?!”

After a long struggle, Master’s Nether Gate, though formidable, still couldn’t withstand the onslaught of thousands upon thousands of ghost soldiers. Under the command of the sinister Brahma Ghost General, the horde continued its reckless assault on Master’s group, and even the impregnable Nether Gate began to falter.

Master destroyed several fierce ghosts before him, gasping for breath as he shouted, “Sikong, keep your Heavenly Thunder fixed on the Brahma Ghost General! Chu Feng, Qiyuan, defend the flanks! Old Monster, guard the rear! Leave the front to me, and everyone—be careful!”

Everyone nodded, taking up positions to defend against the ghost soldiers’ charge. Elder Sikong Fan stood at the center, clenching his fists, veins bulging frighteningly on his neck as he let out a thunderous roar: “Giant Immortal Art—Fall!”

A deafening explosion echoed from above. As I ran atop Mount Boundless, I looked up to see the sky of the Underworld illuminated by a dazzling bolt of lightning that turned the entire realm white.

Even as he drove back the ghost soldiers, Master shouted to Sikong Fan, “Don’t overexert yourself, boy! Just keep Brahma occupied!”

Sikong Fan forced the Heavenly Thunder forward, biting his lip with effort. “Boss, trust me!” he called.

As soon as the words left his lips, the lightning sped toward the distant Brahma Ghost General. Dust billowed, and a tremendous crash shook the ground. The surrounding ghost soldiers shrieked in terror, and even Master and the others paused in shock, staring into the distance. When the dust finally settled, Master’s face was filled with disbelief, and the others frowned in silence.

In the center, Sikong Fan managed a wan smile at the sight before him and whispered weakly, “It... worked…”

With that, Sikong Fan collapsed. Only then did Master and the other elders snap out of their daze and rush to his side. Master lifted Sikong Fan, checked his pulse, and heaved a sigh of relief. “This kid’s mad, but he’s fine—just fainted. Chu Feng, look after him.”

Chu Feng nodded, dragging Sikong Fan aside. Meanwhile, the Brahma Ghost General straightened, gave a pained grunt, and glared at the disciples of the Spiritless Sect. “Damn ants, still struggling? Activate the mechanism! Let none of them leave a corpse behind!”

As the Brahma Ghost General’s roar faded, the sound of gears echoed within the sect, slowly separating the group. Master’s brows knit as he surveyed the shifting maze. “Careful! The Maze City mechanism is active—look after yourselves!”

Before anyone could respond, the walls closed in, splitting them apart. The Brahma Ghost General sneered, waving his hand, and the ghost soldiers surged forward once more.

Elder Yaosheng Tian, separated from the others, became even more ferocious. Surrounded by hundreds of ghost soldiers, he showed no fear; his demonic energy exploded outward, and a terrifying shockwave reduced the attackers to fragments.

Chu Feng, while tending to Sikong Fan, fended off the ghosts pressing in. He was unharmed but, after prolonged fighting, was growing weary. Suddenly, metallic clanging sounded from the walls, and as Chu Feng spun to destroy a ghost sneaking up on him, he turned toward the source of the noise.

But before he could react, hundreds of blades forged from ghostly energy flew at him. At this critical moment, a white silhouette appeared before Chu Feng, shielding him from the barrage. He blinked in surprise—it was none other than Sikong Fan, who should have been unconscious on the ground. Gritting his teeth, Sikong Fan conjured a glowing, complex circle inscribed with runes, forming a barrier in front of them both.

Chu Feng leaped up, casting hundreds of spirit talismans that exploded with golden light, scattering the ghosts. The assailants recoiled, and those of lesser strength were instantly obliterated by the light.

Sikong Fan exhaled in relief and collapsed once again. Chu Feng smashed the mechanism on the wall, rushing to his side. “Sikong Fan—are you all right?!”

Lying on the ground, Sikong Fan glanced around before giving a long sigh. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You fool—still trying to play the hero when your spiritual power is spent?”

He managed a wry grin. “Heroics? If I hadn’t acted, you’d be gone. If you’re gone, I’d be next. I call it saving myself by proxy.”

Chu Feng sighed. “Fine, keep your pride. Just rest, and let me handle the rest.”

He patted Sikong Fan’s shoulder, then raised his hand to conjure a golden barrier at his side. Standing, Chu Feng prepared to charge into the ghost horde, but paused as Sikong Fan called out, “Be careful!”

Chu Feng smiled faintly, gold light flashing from his hand as he sliced through a row of ghost soldiers.

Elsewhere, thanks to his familiarity with the Underworld, Ghost God Qiyuan quickly reunited with Master. One hovered in the air, the other stood on the ground, back to back as they faced the ghosts. Master glanced sideways. “Let’s end this quickly. We can’t afford delays.”

Qiyuan nodded, and they each charged into the enemy ranks. Ghostly energy and Daoist arts clashed amid screams and shouts. Suddenly, a new mechanism activated—not flying blades this time, but a black hole opening beneath them like a swamp, the harder they struggled the deeper they sank.

Qiyuan, accustomed to the Underworld, remained calm and warned, “Boss! Watch out!”

But his warning came too late. Wailing souls echoed from below, and Master was dragged into the darkness, vanishing. Qiyuan tried to pursue, but ghost soldiers blocked his path. The black hole slowly closed, and Qiyuan, enraged, roared, “Damn you all—you’re dead men!”

From afar, the Brahma Ghost General watched, his tone grim. “Tan Boqing, once you’re in the Wailing Soul Pit, you won’t be coming out. Hahahaha!” He laughed coldly.

Facing tens of thousands of ghost soldiers, Qiyuan showed no fear. Instead, seeing Master vanish, he became berserk, unleashing a furious howl. An unnatural phenomenon appeared—a violent wind, never seen in the Underworld, whipped around him, tossing his hair, his eyes growing savage.

Even the Brahma Ghost General was unsettled. “Isn’t the Underworld always the same weather? Why this evil wind all of a sudden? Unless…”

He had no chance to ponder. Qiyuan’s roar echoed, and with unstoppable rage, he tore through the ghost army, his strength swelling until he nearly massacred them all.

“Ghost Dao techniques? Could Qiyuan really be the reincarnated one Lord Qingchen mentioned?” The Brahma Ghost General’s voice trembled with disbelief.

Qiyuan’s aura grew terrifying, and the ranks of ghost soldiers thinned rapidly. The Brahma Ghost General urgently ordered a subordinate, “Go, report back—tell the lord we failed at the Spiritless Sect. Have the Wraith ready!”

The ghost soldier bowed and fled in panic. The Brahma Ghost General squinted, murmuring, “As expected, this is no simple matter. But Tan Boqing, how will you save yourselves now?”

With a cold laugh, he vanished. After eradicating the last ghost, Qiyuan rushed to where Master had disappeared. Soon, Elder Yaosheng Tian and Chu Feng regrouped with him and, upon hearing what had happened, their faces grew grim.

“Qiyuan, you’re saying Boss fell into the Wailing Soul Pit?” Chu Feng asked.

Qiyuan nodded, frowning in silence. Elder Yaosheng Tian was anxious. “Is there a way to save him?”

Qiyuan froze, silent. The others grew agitated, urging him on, until finally he spoke. “There is a way, but it’s extremely dangerous.”

“Danger? What are a few risks to us? When we beat the Demon Path bastards, didn’t we face worse?” Yaosheng Tian snapped.

Qiyuan glanced at him, unsure what to say. Chu Feng stepped in to ease the tension. “Old Monster, calm down. Qiyuan only said it was dangerous, not impossible. Let him finish. We all feel the same way.”

Yaosheng Tian sighed and nodded. “Sorry, old ghost. I was anxious. Go on.”

Qiyuan looked at him and continued. “You’re right—there’s only one way. We must go to the Abyss of Ten Thousand Ghosts. That’s Lord Qingchen’s domain. There will be a way into the Wailing Soul Pit there. But once inside, we’ll be swarmed by a myriad of ghosts, their wails our only company, our souls dragged from our bodies and tormented by countless vengeful spirits.”

He finished, waiting for their response. Chu Feng pondered, then said, “A myriad of ghosts, and wails for company? Isn’t that just like the River of the Yellow Springs?”

“Similar, but the River of the Yellow Springs is far more terrifying,” Qiyuan replied.

At that, the group fell silent once more.