Darkness Falls, a Bloodbath of the Masses

The first explosive sound came from the Demon Lord.

A colossal demonic silhouette stood within the abyss, arms stretching skyward like mountains, black flames scorching the heavens.

The Demon Lord faced the most physically powerful of the four half-step Transcendent ancient corpses.

That corpse carried no weapon.

Nor did it need one.

It simply stepped forward and raised its fist.

Wherever its fist passed, space was not merely shattered—it collapsed into a pitch-black cavity of chaos.

“Come!”

The Demon Lord’s long hair whipped wildly, demonic light blazing from his eyes.

“This lord shall see just how tough the flesh of an ancient half-step Transcendent truly is!”

His own fist shot forward.

A demonic fist like a black sun crossing the sky, wreathed in heaven-devouring, earth-swallowing demonic flames, met the corpse’s fist head-on.

Boom!

The entire Myriad Ruins Abyss shook as if struck by two colliding stars.

Black flames surged backward.

Corpse qi shattered the heavens.

The towering demonic silhouette behind the Demon Lord shuddered violently, its right arm blasting apart by a third on the spot.

The Demon Lord himself let out a muffled grunt, flesh splitting open at his shoulder, bones cracking with a sound that set teeth on edge.

But he did not retreat.

Instead, he grinned savagely.

“Again!”

Corpse fire flickered in the hollow eye sockets of the Flesh Ancient Corpse, as if a remnant battle instinct had been stirred.

A second fist descended.

A third followed close behind.

A fourth came crashing down like the sky falling.

With every blow the Demon Lord absorbed, his demonic flames dimmed a shade, and another wound split across his demonic body, deep enough to see bone.

Yet he held the front line with utter stubbornness.

Because the moment he stepped back, Wang Hao would be right behind him.

On another side, Yue Ji and Ghost Granny joined forces against the third corpse—the Spirit Ancient Corpse.

That corpse was the strangest in appearance.

Its frame was gaunt and elongated, arms dangling to the ground, head tilted slightly, its face devoid of features save for a black slit that kept stretching wider into a grin.

It made no move.

It simply stood there, laughing.

“Hee…”

The sound of that laugh entered their ears.

Yue Ji’s vision blurred instantly.

She saw herself back in her youth—abandoned by her clan, hunted by enemies, forced to play dead in a burial pit on a rain-soaked night.

Icy rain soaked through her clothes.

Rotten corpses pressed down on her.

She was on the verge of suffocation.

“Wake up!”

Ghost Granny’s sharp cry rang out as her cane slammed into Yue Ji’s shoulder.

Crack!

Yue Ji’s shoulder bone nearly split from the impact.

She jolted awake, face pale, cold sweat soaking her back.

“You old hag, could you hit any harder?”

Ghost Granny said grimly, “Any lighter, and you’d be dead.”

No sooner had she spoken than her own expression contorted.

A vision struck her as well.

She saw herself in her younger days, skinned and bones torn out by her own sect, cast into the Myriad Venom Pit to be forged into a poison slave.

Venomous insects crawled in through her ears, her eyes, her throat.

“Heh heh…”

Ghost Granny let out an eerie chuckle from her throat, her eyes fading to grey.

Without hesitation, Yue Ji slapped her across the face.

Smack!

The sound was crisp and loud.

Half of Ghost Granny’s wrinkled face was knocked askew.

She snapped back to her senses, furious. “You little vixen, how dare you hit me?”

Yue Ji smiled sweetly.

“Wasn’t it you who said, any lighter, and I’d be dead?”

Ghost Granny: “…”

The two exchanged a glance, then almost simultaneously formed hand seals.

Behind Yue Ji, nine bizarre illusory moons rose into the air.

Moonlight like silk, yet sharp as blades, slicing through the corpse-thoughts surrounding the Spirit Ancient Corpse.

Ghost Granny spat out a cloud of dark green poison mist, within which countless tiny gu worms writhed and churned, burrowing into the cracks on the corpse’s surface.

“This old woman wants to see how you keep dreaming with your brain already rotted away!”

The Spirit Ancient Corpse’s laughter faltered.

The next moment, that black slit on its face abruptly stretched all the way down to its chest and abdomen.

“Heeheeheeheehee!”

An endless cascade of overlapping laughter exploded out.

Yue Ji and Ghost Granny both spewed blood as they were hurled backward.

The spiritual assault felt like millions of red-hot needles stabbing deep into their souls.

At the third frontline, Shadow and Xue Wuhen were trying to surround and kill the Slaughter Ancient Corpse armed with its broken spear.

To call it a siege would be generous.

It was more like they were the ones being chased and chopped at.

Shadow turned into a black thread, shifting a thousand zhang in a single breath, attempting to circle behind the corpse for a kill strike.

But the Slaughter Ancient Corpse simply flicked its broken spear.

Shhk!

One of Shadow’s afterimages was pierced through.

The next instant, his true body emerged a hundred zhang away—only for a blood hole to tear open in his shoulder out of nowhere.

His pupils contracted.

“Karmic lock-kill?”

Xue Wuhen’s blood light blazed as he split into nine blood phantoms, lunging at the Slaughter Ancient Corpse from nine directions at once.

“I don’t believe you can stab all nine with that one spear!”

The Slaughter Ancient Corpse looked up.

Its broken spear swept out.

A grey-black spear-light curved like a waning moon.

Boom boom boom boom!

Eight blood phantoms detonated on the spot.

From the ninth, Xue Wuhen’s true body tumbled out, his abdomen slashed open with a massive gash, intestines nearly spilling out.

He glanced down at himself, grumbled, and shoved his guts back in.

“Damn it, these ancient dead folk have no manners. Rusted weapon, still this sharp.”

Yin Jiuyou’s situation was worse.

He was facing the fourth corpse—the Death Domain Corpse.

Once the black domain expanded, the entire battlefield became a graveyard.

Yin Jiuyou specialized in underworld arts and had thought he might gain some advantage.

But the moment he stepped inside, he realized his mistake.

This death qi was too pure.

So pure that his own netherworld true force felt like a cheap counterfeit.

“I’ve played dirty tricks my whole life, and today a dead man teaches me a lesson?”

Yin Jiuyou’s face turned iron-grey as he formed hand seals, summoning nine netherworld ghost gates behind him.

The gates swung open.

Countless vengeful spirits howled forth, surging at the Death Domain Corpse.

The corpse simply raised one hand and pressed down.

Black mist churned.

Those spirits had barely charged forward before they spun around like they'd seen their own ancestor—all of them, in perfect unison, turning to pounce back at Yin Jiuyou.

Yin Jiuyou’s eyes bulged.

“You ungrateful bastards! I raised you for years, and one glance from a stranger and you switch loyalties?”

He scrambled backward, sleeve whipping out, smashing the traitorous spirits to pieces.

But the death domain was already closing in.

His skin began to wither. The vitality in his flesh and blood was being drained away bit by bit.

All four frontlines were collapsing completely.

And Wang Hao? He drifted between all of them.

He never chose to go head-on.

Not because he couldn’t.

Because there was no need.

Wang Hao understood perfectly well that in his current state, fighting a half-step Transcendent head-on would be like slamming his skull against an imperial weapon.

Win, and it’s a miracle. Lose, and it’s a perfectly ordinary death.

He liked creating miracles. He didn’t like ordinary deaths.

So he chose the style that suited him best.

Ambush.

Finishing blow.

Aggro pulling.

Wrench in the gears.

When the Flesh Ancient Corpse punched the Demon Lord back a step, Wang Hao suddenly appeared at its rear flank.

The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower materialized.

The eighth floor gate opened.

“Caw!”

A thunder phoenix burst forth with wings spread, slamming hard into the back of the Flesh Ancient Corpse’s knee.

Boom!

Thunderlight exploded.

The Flesh Ancient Corpse stumbled for a beat.

The Demon Lord seized the opening—both fists like mountains, slamming into the corpse’s chest and driving it back half a step.

Wang Hao immediately retreated.

“Demon Lord, don’t just stand there—hit its lower body!”

The Demon Lord roared, “This lord knows!”

Wang Hao added as he ran, “If you knew, why were you eating that punch? I thought you didn’t know.”

The Demon Lord nearly spat out blood.

His Majesty’s mouth was more venomous than a half-step Transcendent corpse.

Elsewhere, the Slaughter Ancient Corpse drove its broken spear toward Xue Wuhen’s brow.

Xue Wuhen had nowhere to dodge.

At that very last moment, Wang Hao tore out of the void, the Emperor’s Sword slashing diagonally.

“Heaven-Splitting Nine Swords, First Sword!”

A black-golden blade-light smashed into the broken spear.

Clang!

Wang Hao’s tiger’s mouth split open, his whole body blasted back hundreds of zhang.

But the spear deflected by half an inch—slicing past Xue Wuhen’s scalp, shearing off a patch of hair.

Xue Wuhen rubbed his bald scalp, angry. “Your Majesty, if you’re saving people, why did you have to shave my head?”

Wang Hao sneered.

“I saved your life, not your hairstyle.”

Xue Wuhen: “……”

He had no comeback.

Over by the Spirit Ancient Corpse, Yue Ji and Ghost Granny were being driven mad by the laughter.

Wang Hao tossed out the Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower from afar.

The tower hung in midair, thunder radiating outward like the tolling of bells.

Thunder was pure yang, just the thing to suppress yin spiritual evil.

The laughter shattered for a moment.

Both Yue Ji and Ghost Granny caught their breath.

Yue Ji’s eyes shimmered, her voice weak but still teasing.

“Your Majesty saved my life. This humble one has nothing to repay you with—perhaps I could…”

Wang Hao cut her off at once.

“Perhaps you could save your breath and shut up.”

Yue Ji: “……”

Ghost Granny cackled weirdly.

“Little vixen, looks like you got rejected, huh?”

Yue Ji gritted her teeth. “Old hag, once we live through this I’ll poison you mute.”

Ghost Granny snorted. “This old woman will be waiting.”

Over in the death-qi domain, Yin Jiuyou had been driven to the edge of the sacrificial altar.

Wang Hao pressed down with a palm from midair.

“Sky-Sealing Earth-Crushing Palm. First strike!”

A giant golden palm slammed into the black mist.

It only scattered a small patch of the domain, but it bought Yin Jiuyou a chance to breathe.

Yin Jiuyou scrambled out of the black mist, looking utterly disheveled.

“Your Majesty, this old man owes you his life.”

Wang Hao glanced at him.

“Put it on the tab. Interest will be charged later.”

Yin Jiuyou’s mouth twitched.

This tyrant charged for saving people too.

But it was precisely this almost shameless style of fighting that had managed to hold off four half-step transcendent ancient corpses.

Wang Hao was like the most irritating needle.

Wherever things were about to collapse, he stabbed.

Wherever someone was about to die, he used the most devious methods to break the corpse’s momentum.

He wasn’t seeking massive damage.

Just to shatter their rhythm.

Thunder tower, sword light, palm prints, imperial dragon qi, and the strange howling of the new Son of Heaven’s Sword—all of them rotated in.

For a time, the four half-step transcendent ancient corpses had the clear advantage, yet they couldn’t kill a single person outright.

But the problem was—

This style of fighting drained too much.

The bit of true essence Wang Hao had just recovered was nearly spent again.

The Demon Lord’s demonic form had been shattered three times.

Blood seeped from Yue Ji’s seven orifices.

Ghost Granny’s staff had snapped off a section.

Shadow’s left arm could barely lift.

Xue Wuhen was covered in no fewer than a hundred wounds of all sizes, looking like he’d just crawled out of a slaughterhouse.

Yin Jiuyou was even worse—half his body was withered like a dried corpse, and the other half barely looked human.

Yet the four half-step transcendent ancient corpses only grew fiercer.

Wang Hao finally realized something was wrong.

“System.”

[Intel update: The four Second Sequence ancient corpses share the same origin—the four directional formation-protecting generals from the Emperor’s Fall Battle. Their eerie qi can resonate with one another.]

[Danger alert: If the four corpses step back onto the four formation points of the altar, they will activate the prototype of an ancient killing formation, multiplying their combat power.]

Wang Hao’s eyes turned grave.

“Stop them from returning to the altar!”

The moment his voice fell.

All four ancient corpses paused at nearly the same time.

Then, as if they’d heard some ancient summons, they stopped chasing the group and turned in unison, striding back to the four sides of the altar.

The Demon Lord roared and threw a punch.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The Flesh Ancient Corpse turned and struck back with a palm.

Boom!

The Demon Lord was sent flying, his chest caving in a large area.

Yue Ji and Ghost Granny joined forces in a phantasmal moon poison sea, trying to trap the Spirit Ancient Corpse.

But the Spirit Ancient Corpse simply turned its head and smiled.

Both women clutched their heads and screamed in agony, blood streaming from their eyes.

Shadow and Xue Wuhen threw themselves recklessly at the Slaughter Ancient Corpse.

With a sweep of its broken spear.

The two were hurled into the rock wall like kites with snapped strings.

Yin Jiuyou unleashed the Nine Abyss Ghost Gate to delay the Death Domain Corpse.

But the death domain rolled over it, and the gate rotted and collapsed directly.

The four ancient corpses stepped onto the four sides of the altar.

East.

West.

South.

North.

Boom!

The Nine-Coffin Altar erupted with towering black light.

Countless ancient formation patterns surfaced from beneath the earth, like dead dragons from an age past waking once more.

Death qi between heaven and earth began to flow in reverse.

The void itself seemed to tighten shut in an invisible black hand.

Wang Hao stood in midair, his face more solemn than ever.

He could feel the space around him locked tight.

Not just space.

Even his true essence flow, soul fluctuations, and physical blood-qi all felt crushed beneath a great invisible tomb.

Ji Wushang stood at the highest point of the altar, looking down at them all with a cruel smile.

“Had enough of struggling?”

“Now, it’s time to close the net.”

The four half-step transcendent ancient corpses raised their heads at once.

Corpse fire linked into one formation.

Death qi condensed into a sky-obscuring black cage, slowly pressing down.

Only then did everyone understand.

Everything before had just been a warm-up.

The true killing trap.

Had arrived.

The moment the black cage descended, all light vanished from the Ten-Thousand-Coil Abyss.

It wasn’t night.

Nor storm clouds.

It was a deeper kind of shrouding.

As if heaven and earth had been buried in a grave, with sun, moon, and stars all nailed shut outside the coffin lid.

The four half-step transcendent ancient corpses stood on the four sides of the altar, their corpse qi interlocking to form an ancient killing formation.

The moment the formation patterns lit up, the space beneath everyone’s feet turned into quicksand.

Every breath tasted like swallowing iron filings.

Every flush of true essence felt like rotting chains dragging through the meridians.

The Demon Lord was the first to buckle.

Not because he was weak.

Quite the opposite—because he was the strongest, stood the furthest forward, and had blocked the most killing intent.

The Flesh Ancient Corpse stepped out of the formation position and threw a punch.

This punch was no longer mere physical might.

Wound around the fist was the power of slaughter, spirit, and the death domain from the other three corpses.

Four powers fused into one.

The fist came down like a heavenly tomb crushing the world.

The Demon Lord roared, pulling together his shattered ten-thousand-zhang demonic projection once more.

“This lord isn’t dead yet!”

He crossed his arms, black flame coiling around him like a demonic dragon.

Boom!

The fist struck.

The demonic dragon exploded.

The demonic projection collapsed.

The Demon Lord’s chest was punched clean through.

A withered fist burst out from his back, trailing large gobbets of black-gold demon blood.

“Demon Lord!”

Yue Ji’s face went pale.

Even Ghost Granny’s eyes flickered with alarm.

The Demon Lord lowered his head to look at the fist piercing his chest, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth—but then, suddenly, he laughed.

“Is that all?”

“An ancient half-step transcendent, and this is it?”

He lunged with both hands and clamped onto the corpse’s arm, trying to lock it in place.

Wang Hao’s pupils shrank.

“Don’t push it!”