The ghost before his eyes bore Yang Xiao’s likeness. As soon as he saw those scarlet blood eyes, countless chaotic and shattered visions seed to be forcibly cramd into his mind, accompanied by incessant, aningless noise in his ears.
The scene before him blurred, and Yang Xiao found himself disconnected, sinking into a state of unconsciousness.
This hazy confusion persisted for an unknown length of ti until the sound of rushing water thundered in his ears. Cyan light gradually reflected into his pupils, trembling like a shaky cara. In his daze, Yang Xiao realized he had arrived in a strange world surrounded by eerie, icy cyan mist.
Yet, inexplicably, Yang Xiao felt an innate sense of familiarity with this place, as though he had been here before.
Hints of chilling cold seeped through the cyan mist. Uncertain of the situation, Yang Xiao dared not move, as though he feared disturbing sothing hidden here.
In the next instant, a gust of spectral wind swept through, dispelling the cyan mist like unraveling clouds. What erged was a massive lake, where a radiant moon ascended from its waters. Upon the dark, greenish surface stood a towering Sky-reaching Tower.
This imposing structure did not rise from the lake directly but appeared instead as an enormous reflection, mirrored perfectly in the water’s surface.
This was a tower in the water!
The Nine-Story Demon Tower!
As he took in this sight, the inexplicable familiarity tugging at Yang Xiao’s heart finally found its source. He had indeed been here before; this was the Opera Robe Ghost’s domain. The Nine-Story Demon Tower now lay subrged beneath the vast lake in the Feng Family Mansion’s backyard.
Although Yang Xiao remained stationary, his perspective rapidly closed the distance, and this strange world evolved swiftly before his eyes. The moon high above imperceptibly transford into a blood-red Blood Moon.
Its dark crimson light spread across the void, dispelling the surrounding darkness while staining this world with a murderous, somber hue.
A pungent stench of blood suffused the air beneath his feet. Countless dismbered bodies floated and sank within the murky lake water, as though a brutal massacre had just unfolded here.
A pathway of White Jade Steps stretched forward like an Ascension Platform, leading straight to the Nine-Story Demon Tower. Between the steps and the tower stood a colossal platform, upon which lood a few indistinct silhouettes.
Holding his breath, Yang Xiao strained his eyesight to its limits. At a glance, he imdiately recognized the central figure among the shadows—it was the Opera Robe Ghost. Identifying her was barely a challenge, given the Big Red Blood Coffin standing nacingly beside her.
Unlike the last ti Yang Xiao encountered her, only four people remained by the Opera Robe Ghost’s side. Previously, eight individuals had attacked her. Judging by the tiline, this battle was nearing its conclusion; the four remaining combatants, all visibly injured, were in scattered formation. anwhile, the Opera Robe Ghost herself was evidently exhausting her last reserves of strength.
Yang Xiao didn’t dare breathe audibly as his gaze swept across the faces of the four attackers. The familiar face he sought was absent—a middle-aged man draped in a rugged fur coat, his features marked by a fleshy visage, a bald head, and a collapsed nose bridge. Most notably, he wielded a Human Bone Staff in his hand.
This was the very Magic Artifact Yang Xiao had snatched from Huang Sanbing. Among the eight who had previously encircled the Opera Robe Ghost was the staff’s forr owner. Now, however, the man was missing—likely one of the casualties dealt by the Opera Robe Ghost.
The Opera Robe Ghost had fought against eight attackers and even managed to kill four of them. Such formidable strength was nothing short of terrifying. Yang Xiao suspected that the Opera Robe Ghost, in her previous life, had undoubtedly been a Netherworld-level expert, far surpassing the Dean of Ru Lin Academy or even his own martial uncle.
Yang Xiao’s gaze landed on yet another familiar silhouette. This individual wore a Double-winged Black Gauze Cap and donned a refined outfit indicative of noble origins. Yet no matter what Yang Xiao tried, he couldn’t make out the person’s face, as though obscured by an impenetrable fog.
The figure’s posture and bearing felt uncannily familiar to Yang Xiao, almost as if he were staring at his reflection in a mirror. In the next mont, the battle erupted. Under the Opera Robe Ghost’s control, the Big Red Ghost Coffin charged forward like a rampaging truck, crashing into an armored general standing to the side.
The general, clad in armor, wielded no weapons but cradled a Spiritual Plaque tightly against his chest. Just as the coffin collided with him, an eerie phenonon occurred—the general’s figure abruptly blurred as though becoming intangible, and the coffin passed straight through his body and the plaque. At that very instant, a shrill scream rang out.
The coffin’s attack wasn’t entirely ineffective—a spectral figure was forcibly wrenched from the plaque, struggling only briefly before being pulled into the coffin. The general’s body, now solid once more, seed to have suffered a heavy toll, staggering back two steps uncontrollably before regaining his balance monts later.
Yang Xiao noticed that throughout the clash, the armored general continually kept the Spiritual Plaque directed at the Opera Robe Ghost, seemingly using it as an Amulet.
For a fleeting mont, Yang Xiao found himself curious about whose image was affixed to the plaque, capable of repelling the coffin’s force—a rare treasure indeed.
Yang Xiao had been ramd by that ghostly coffin before—multiple tis, in fact. The thing was utterly terrifying; neither fleeing nor blocking stood any chance. Whenever the joss paper was scattered, dozens of funeral procession specters would erge from the mist, rushing forward aggressively without so much as a word. As soone who had lived through it, Yang Xiao understood this horror all too well.
Anyone capable of standing firm against that coffin’s charge was, in Yang Xiao’s mind, undeniably a top-tier expert—at the very least at his martial uncle’s level.
Under the Opera Robe Ghost’s command, the ghostly coffin whipped through the mist like a thunderous gale. Simultaneously, various other Magic Artifacts in her possession unleashed their mysterious powers. Much like Yang Xiao’s use of the Drama Robe, the artifacts she employed seed to have been "plucked" directly from her Opera Robe. However, in terms of both quantity and quality, hers overwhelmingly surpassed Yang Xiao’s by a wide margin.
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