Li Dalong stood atop the Death-Stilling Heavenly Coffin, looking down at the twenty Spirit Boats of the Heaven-Chosen Divine Sect led by the Sixth Chosen. His right hand kept rubbing the Storage Ring on his left index finger, where communication treasures flickered one after another.
After the Underworld's army had encircled them, the foremost batch of high-ranking ghosts had stopped moving, while dust still billowed in the rear.
Ahead, Old Tree's towering body blotted out the clouds and sun. None of the family's children spoke.
Xu Cuihua glanced at Li Dalong's hand. Though her husband appeared composed, she knew all the anxiety churning in his heart had gathered in that hand. She comforted him, "Head of the household, has someone come looking for you again?"
"Mm."
Li Dalong replied, "I've caused too great a commotion. Four layers of the Underworld have emerged. Wu Neng from the Immortal Suppression Bureau, the Immortal Court's newly appointed Northern Emperor, a Witch Ancestor of the Witch Tribe, even people from the Demon Race—they've all sent messages, afraid I'll stir up an even greater disaster. For hundreds of years, their communication treasures have been delivered to our home. This is the first time I've received so many messages."
Li Dalong put on a relaxed front, but only he knew how urgent those messages were.
The family's old friend, Emperor Yu, had also sent word. Emperor Yu said he had gone mad—the Underworld's forces absolutely could not emerge. An Immortal Court Exalted Immortal had likewise said he had gone mad, demanding that the Underworld army return to its original place within a year. As for the imperial dynasty, they were holding Yaozu accountable for killing someone in the Heavenly Palace.
Yet not one of them cared whether his family lived or died.
How could Xu Cuihua