The Underworld Netherworld

The gate slowly opened, revealing not treasures or wonders, but a chaotic, hazy void. There was nothing there, not even walls, just chaos.

Ning Chen maneuvered his wheelchair inside. Before he could react, he saw rows of headless Underworld Soldiers marching towards him. Beside them, Ghostly Specters hovered, a truly terrifying sight.

The Underworld Soldiers were clearing a path, and the Ghostly Specters were possessing bodies. Ning Chen tried to dodge, but no matter how he moved, the Underworld Soldiers kept getting closer.

Is this an illusion?

Ning Chen furrowed his brow, not understanding what was happening. When he looked back, he found the gate had vanished. In the entire chaotic space, only he and thousands of Underworld Soldiers remained.

"Kill!"

The Underworld Soldiers raised their halberds, their battle cries shaking the heavens, and in an instant, they were upon him.

It was a bizarre phenomenon, yet it didn't seem entirely illusory. Ning Chen waved his hand, drawing the Ink Sword from behind him, and with one swing, deflected several battle halberds, retreating ten steps.

Fortunately, the wheelchair beneath him was handmade by a master from the Academy. Otherwise, it would have long since been destroyed by this continuous battle.

The battle came out of nowhere, and Ning Chen dared not be careless. He wielded his sword, condensing his qi, and charged into the ranks of the Underworld Soldiers.

The Underworld Soldiers weren't strong; they were even weaker than ordinary soldiers. However, with the accompanying Ghostly Specters, they were much more troublesome to deal with.

There were too many Underworld Soldiers. Ning Chen gradually began to sustain injuries. Battle halberds sliced his body, and with every splash of blood, a supremely cold and yin energy seeped in.

Ghostly Specters were difficult to harm with ordinary blades; only True Essence could forcibly suppress them. However, every time a Ghostly Specter passed through his body, Ning Chen felt his True Essence stagnate and his spirit falter significantly.

I can't advance, and I can't retreat. Demons block my way at every turn.

Ning Chen's heart burned with anger. His Qi Sea True Essence surged, and the Ink Sword frosted over. With one swing, seven Underworld Soldiers were dismembered.

Endless Underworld Soldiers, undying Ghostly Specters. Ning Chen accumulated more and more injuries, and more and more blood flowed. In the chaotic world, dismembered bodies and corpses lay everywhere, piling up into mountains of bones.

There was no rest, no respite. The Ink Sword in Ning Chen's hand was stained crimson with blood, and the corpses beneath him were too numerous to count.

He didn't know how long he had been fighting. Ning Chen only felt that his sword-wielding hand had gone numb, driven only by instinct, continuously reaping the Underworld Soldiers and Ghostly Specters that stood in his way.

"Cough, cough."

Severe depletion of True Essence caused his previously suppressed injuries to flare up again. Ning Chen coughed up blood. He looked up and realized that, at some point, there were no more Underworld Soldiers left standing before him.

The chaotic world was uniform, with no distinction between night and day, as if it were the primordial chaos at the dawn of creation, everything without rules.

Here, Ning Chen found that his True Essence recovered much faster than usual. Even his cultivation, which had shown no progress recently, subtly hinted at a breakthrough.

Unfortunately, this was not a safe or good place, much less a treasure trove for cultivation.

He didn't know when the Underworld Soldiers would reappear. These inanimate beings, impervious to pain, though lacking intelligence and combat prowess, were truly difficult to deal with due to their sheer numbers and the accompanying Ghostly Specters.

Thump-thump!

Just as Ning Chen finally suppressed his injuries and regained some strength, warhorses galloped in the distance. In an instant, four headless, black-armored Underworld Cavalry charged forward, swinging their halberds.

With a clang, sword and halberd clashed. The headless Underworld Cavalry, carried by the momentum of their warhorses, struck. Ning Chen's right hand went numb, and he was sent fifteen feet back by the impact of the battle halberd.

This is endless!

Ning Chen coughed lightly, looking at the four headless Underworld Cavalry surrounding him. The Ink Sword in his hand vibrated, blood flowing down it, dripping onto the corpses beneath him.

Boom!

The battle resumed. Four halberds attacked in rapid succession, offense and defense rotating. Even though Ning Chen's cultivation was slightly superior, facing the four's seamless coordination, he couldn't break through for a time and was once more stained with blood.

How annoying!

Unable to achieve a quick victory, Ning Chen grew irritated. He met an incoming battle halberd without dodging, taking the blow head-on.

The battle halberd pierced his body, staining his clothes crimson. Yet, a blood-soaked hand gripped the halberd shaft, preventing the bronze-colored weapon from moving another inch.

Clang!

Just then, three more battle halberds came from three directions. Ning Chen swung the Ink Sword, deflecting two, then retreated, smoothly avoiding the third.

With one halberd missing, a brief flaw appeared in their coordination. Ning Chen used his left hand to pull back, surged forward, and with one swing of his sword, severed the arm of the headless Underworld Cavalryman in front of him.

"Cough, cough."

In that brief moment, the battle shifted several times. Ning Chen's body couldn't withstand the intense strain, and he began to cough violently.

The Underworld Cavalry possessed immense arm strength. Every halberd strike had the power to cleave mountains and shatter stones, beyond human resistance. Ning Chen, relying on his Houtian Fourth Rank cultivation, blocked several attacks, but his body gradually began to give out.

This battle halberd...

Ning Chen gripped the battle halberd he had seized from the Underworld Cavalry. He felt a chilling energy continuously surge from his palm into his meridians. He had no choice but to forcefully suppress it with True Essence to feel slightly better.

If he wasn't mistaken, this battle halberd must have been an excellent divine weapon long ago. However, it had been in the hands of the Underworld Cavalry for too long, accumulating excessive yin energy and transforming into an Underworld Soldier.

If the yin energy in the battle halberd could be removed, it might regain its original divine weapon properties. However, this was highly unlikely. The greatest possibility was that once the yin energy was removed, this Underworld Soldier would also turn into a piece of scrap metal.

Of the four Underworld Cavalry, one was already disabled. Their offense and defense had significant flaws and no longer posed a major threat to him. Besides their immense strength, the Underworld Cavalry themselves weren't particularly formidable in combat. Ning Chen eventually defeated the remaining three, though with some difficulty. After all, he was a Fourth Rank martial artist who had defeated a Sixth Rank master. Though the victory wasn't glorious, he had still won.

Ning Chen collected one of the battle halberds, intending to study it thoroughly later. This battle halberd posed too great a threat to him. Not only was it sturdy and durable, but the yin energy within it counteracted the True Essence in his body. Every clash of moves invisibly consumed a lot of his True Essence.

The yin energy in the chaotic land was growing heavier. Underworld Soldiers and Underworld Cavalry were originally soldiers of the Underworld. How did they end up here?

He had just pushed open the gate to the Underworld Netherworld. Why had he arrived in this strange, chaotic world?

Ning Chen couldn't figure it out. He could only seize every moment to recuperate and heal his injuries. Fortunately, the spiritual energy in this place was quite dense, and his True Essence recovered much faster than outside.

His injuries were already severe—new and old, internal and external—all urgently needed quiet recuperation. Unfortunately, what he lacked most now was time.

There was no telling when the Underworld Soldiers and Underworld Cavalry would appear again. Staying here for too long, he would either be worn down or starve to death.

At this point, he found himself missing Little White Horse. If that fellow had come along, he could have at least eaten it if he got too hungry.

As he pondered, the Underworld Soldiers reappeared. Ning Chen felt a headache coming on. With a sigh, he had to reluctantly draw his Ink Sword once more.

The battle was incredibly uninteresting, still a one-sided slaughter. Even someone with the most ordinary aptitude would become increasingly adept at fighting through continuous combat. Ning Chen's aptitude might not impress those geniuses, but for a normal person, it was already quite good.

After the Underworld Soldiers came the Underworld Cavalry, still four of them. The fighting became even more intense, and the resulting injuries were more severe, but he had no choice.

By the end, Ning Chen himself had lost count of how many Underworld Soldiers and Underworld Cavalry he had killed. Each battle was the same monotonous cycle: fight, get injured, heal, then fight again, get injured again, heal again.

Killing until you wanted to vomit—that was probably how he felt now.

He didn't want to die, so he could only keep going.

Moreover, in this place, it seemed that dying wasn't so easy.

His injuries didn't seem to be worsening; time here seemed to have no effect. However, the accumulation of injuries, one after another, was still enough to give him a hard time.

He even wondered if he would immediately die from such severe injuries if he managed to get out.

He didn't know what the future held, but he knew that at the very least, he didn't want to die now.

Without a clock, he used the Underworld Cavalry's halberds to keep count. Kill one wave, collect four. Kill two waves, collect eight. By the end, waves appeared one after another, too many to count.

The halberds piled up into a small mountain, giving Ning Chen a headache, and he couldn't be bothered to count them again.

Later, he started counting the halberds by piles: one pile, two piles...

The Underworld Soldiers and Underworld Cavalry appeared continuously. After battle after battle, Ning Chen found himself handling them with increasing ease. When he encountered the Underworld Cavalry again, it was no longer an evenly matched fight, but a one-sided slaughter, like slicing melons and dicing vegetables, without any suspense.

The blood on the Ink Sword never dried, its pungent smell nauseating.

Days without time passed in such a monotonous, dry way. Ning Chen felt like he was going crazy. If it weren't for the constant appearance of Underworld Soldiers and Underworld Cavalry as companions, he had no doubt he would have gone insane long ago.

He was tired of killing, annoyed, even nauseated to the point of wanting to vomit, yet he still had to keep killing.

The mental torment far exceeded the physical pain. If it weren't for that persistent desire to live, he might have already put down his Ink Sword and let the Underworld Cavalry's halberds tear him to pieces.

Just as Ning Chen finally couldn't hold on any longer and was on the verge of collapse, cracks suddenly appeared in the surrounding chaotic world, followed by a resounding crash as it shattered.

The scene before him instantly changed. In a gloomy, majestic hall, Little White Horse swallowed a bead from an altar, breaking the source of the entire illusion.

Ning Chen was saved, and his savior was the Little White Horse whose meat he had been eyeing for a long time.

Perhaps one second later, Ning Chen would have gone insane, but Little White Horse ate it just in time, swallowing the most crucial item at the most critical moment.

Ning Chen only saw Little White Horse swallow something, seemingly a bead, but he didn't know what it actually was.

On the altar, there was also a golden page, a strange Bloody Demonic Blade, and a noble Purple-Gold Divine Sword.

Ning Chen wheeled his chair to the altar, patted Little White Horse's flank, showing good manners and expressing gratitude.

"Neigh!"

Little White Horse didn't understand. It couldn't comprehend why its owner, who had always been so harsh towards it, would change so dramatically.

At the altar, Ning Chen stared at the golden page for a long time. Then, he bit his finger and dripped blood onto it. A brilliant golden light erupted, and the golden page slowly rose, transforming into a streak of light that merged into his Dantian Qihai.

Ning Chen tried the same method with the Bloody Demonic Blade and the Purple-Gold Divine Sword. However, the blades shimmered, shaking off the drops of blood, refusing to accept him.

If gentleness didn't work, then he would be brute. Ning Chen narrowed his eyes, circulated his true qi, and grabbed at the demonic blade. A massive, powerful force surged forth, violently shaking off the unwelcome hand from the hilt.

Ning Chen withdrew his right hand and tried the long sword, with the same result.

Ning Chen was no longer a novice in martial arts; he naturally understood what was happening. This demonic blade and divine sword did not acknowledge him. Perhaps from the very beginning, he and most others had been mistaken. These Netherworld Ruins were not ownerless; they were waiting for someone's arrival, and that person was clearly not him.

If Little White Horse hadn't swallowed the bead and saved him just now, he might have been trapped in the illusion forever.

As for why Little White Horse wasn't trapped by the illusion, that was beyond his knowledge. He simply couldn't imagine a horse being trapped in an illusion.

The current reality was that Little White Horse had swallowed someone else's bead, he had taken someone else's golden page, and he couldn't take away the demonic blade and divine sword, which seemed to be the most precious items here.

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