...
The further they walked towards the depths of the Abyss, the more the evil winds resembled a massive vortex, enveloping the area in chaos and obscurity. The endless army of corpses vanished, as if they had entered another world.
Before dawn at the Abyss, space would shift. They only had less than one night to act swiftly without any delay.
Yet, as they approached the edge of the abyss, their original resolve faltered when they gazed down into that vast void. Their hearts skipped a beat, and their insides twisted in discomfort. The sight was so horrifying that those with acrophobia would have been petrified by it...
Describing it like an inferno furnace was perfect; the most extreme demons, evil spirits, and beasts were piled together like garbage in a pyre, forming endless seas and mountains.
Countless screams, roars, cries of pain, and wails mixed, piercing their souls. It seemed that every inch of their body was filled with suffering!
Sū Xiǎo Luò and Fāng Gǔ had seen enough death in the Netherworld Village; even they turned pale at such a scene.
If this abyss truly contained their ancestors' imperial tombs, what grave sin did their ancestors commit to create such a sea of horrors?
"Brother Fāng, you are older. You should go first," Mò Fan said.
"In truth, I would rather end my life now than jump into such a place. Those who die here will be trapped in their souls forever, tortured by millennia-old grievances and the anguish of those who died horrifically," Fāng Gǔ explained.
Closing his eyes and jumping was not an option; their souls were already trying to escape from their living bodies!
"I'll go first," said Zhāng Xiǎo Hóu, seeing that neither Mò Fan nor Fāng Gǔ had much resolve. He stepped forward bravely.
This time, having seen the abyss before, Zhāng Xiǎo Hóu was better prepared to face this hell furnace than he had been previously.
Of course, his preparedness was relative; he felt those dense ghosts and frenzied corpses scratching at his scalp. If it weren't for the hundreds of thousands trapped in the inner city, he would have wanted to retreat. He would rather be one of those ordinary people who were used as bait—dying like that was a luxury.
"Should we go together?" proposed Sū Xiǎo Luò with a practical suggestion.
"Agreed."
...
Mò Fan still had to hug Liú Rú tightly; even if he jumped down, he couldn't let his grip weaken. She wasn't a descendant of the king either and needed to rely on the Holy Spring's faint soul light for protection.
As Zhāng Xiǎo Hóu, Fāng Gǔ, and Sū Xiǎo Luò plunged into the abyss, Mò Fan had no choice but to follow with Liú Rú in his arms.
At that moment, there was no trace of his usual lecherous intentions. He clung tightly, and Liú Rú seemed paralyzed by fear.
Countless ghosts danced in the Abyss, the swirling evil winds emanating from these creatures forming storm-like vortices. When thousands of ghostly entities gathered at a deep opening, one could imagine the terrifying fate awaiting living beings who fell into such a place.
Mò Fan's vision faded; his thoughts halted. The evil winds couldn't tear apart Little Mudfish's soul light barrier, but resentment pierced everything, transmitting directly to their minds and memories...