Elsewhere, the Demon Empress took the four through space and landed on a barren coastline.
The sea breeze lashed their faces with salty, fishy moisture, its chill piercing to the bone. In the distance, jagged reefs gleamed with a deathly light beneath the boundless, heavy darkness of night.
Ye Xishui landed steadily and swiftly reined in the remaining soul power around her, her gaze dark as she surveyed this utterly unfamiliar world.
Zhongli Wu could barely endure his grievous injuries. Already drained of strength, he slumped on a cold reef, his breathing faint.
Feng Ling knelt on one knee beside him, supporting him tightly, exhaustion and wariness etched across her brow.
Long Xiaoyao stood quietly beside Ye Xishui, his eyes, weathered by more than two hundred years, narrowing slightly.
His gaze swept slowly across the desolate, deathly silent coast, and unease crept upward in his heart.
Just then, a hazy shadow silently emerged from behind the reefs and stopped before the Demon Empress without a sound.
The shadow had neither shape nor outline, as though it were pure darkness stripped from the world itself-oppressive, cold, and utterly uncanny.
"Lady Demon Empress, you have finally returned."
An ethereal voice rang out eerily.
His hollow gaze swept over Ye Xishui and the other three, and he spoke blandly.
"These four must be the foremost experts of the Douluo Continent's Holy Spirit Cult.
The Holy Monarch has been waiting for you in the Abyss for quite some time."
Ye Xishui's expression remained cool as she asked calmly, "Who are you?"
"Envoy of the Abyss-Han Ying."
The dark apparition rippled slightly. His echoing voice sounded like the murmurs of countless dead souls layered together, sinister and bone-chilling.
"On behalf of the Abyssal Sage King, I welcome the four of you to the Abyss Plane."