Spirit Sacrifice and Night Rain carried the coffin forward, relying on the fluctuations between the Black Nail within their bodies and the Black Coffin to sense the rhythm of the entire Welcoming Ghost Road.
It was like playing a silent funeral march.
Every step had to land at the right moment and in the right place—when the corpse before them suddenly rose.
The times at which these human cocoons rose followed no discernible pattern.
Even what they saw with their naked eyes could not be trusted; there could even be illusions indistinguishable from reality.
Only by relying on the Black Nail's perception within their bodies and stepping at the precise moment could they advance steadily and carry the Black Coffin into the node passage.
Wails rang out from within the human cocoons along the entire ghost road.
Yet whenever the two took a step, the corpses beneath their feet instantly fell silent, like actual corpses.
Both men had a premonition.
The stretch ahead would be extremely dangerous. They needed absolute focus and could not be disturbed by the outside world. No accidents could occur.
Otherwise, one wrong step would throw their coffin-carrying bodies off balance. If they missed the rhythm, the connection between the entire Welcoming Ghost Road and the Black Coffin would immediately be broken.
If that connection was severed, the Black Coffin would regain its former weight and become impossible to move even an inch.
To reconnect it, they would need to rebuild the Welcoming Ghost Road.
And that would require not only strange cores, but the sacrifice of another three million Deep Blue Star lives—souls occupied by the strange entities, enduring endless agony and torment.
Yet at this very moment, the hostile association presidents had already rushed over.
They saw the peculiarity of the Fear Hell sealing