Chapter 1515: Chapter 1515

Chapter 1515: Chapter 662: The Ghost King’s Tomb Faces the Ghost King

Lanling followed the energy trail persistently, moving forward, onward!

Soon, he reached the outskirts of the Ruins of Doom Magic Capital.

The outskirts, once impassable, became traversable after becoming a ghost.

The further Lanling walked, the darker the surroundings became, shifting from black and white to monochrome.

The lineaments surrounding him grew fainter, more ethereal.

Ultimately, beyond the edge of the Magic Mirror of Doom, the world plunged into complete darkness, swirling with horrific dark energy.

Furthermore, chilling wails and howls of ghosts echoed without pause.

There was no doubt; this was the entrance to the Netherworld.

Lanling realized that the so-called Netherworld entrance wasn’t an energy gate but a rift.

This was truly a hell rift, erratically shifting like dark lightning, tearing here, ripping there.

Beyond the energy fissure was complete darkness.

The ghostly cries and howls emanated from these rifts.

The Ghost King’s energy trail disappeared entirely at the entrance to these Netherworld rifts.

Next, Lanling faced an extremely difficult decision: whether to enter the Netherworld.

Currently, Lanling was merely in a state of feigned death; though his soul had departed its shell, a thread still connected it to his body and energy heart.

After all, it was just a simulation of death induced by the Meditation of Void Silence.

Entering the Netherworld might sever this thread completely, turning a feigned death into a real one for Lanling.

Moreover, the state of the Netherworld remained entirely unknown.

According to Lanling’s understanding, the Netherworld was a mass of chaos, almost resembling a two-dimensional world, lacking true dimensional existence.

Entering it indeed involved a tremendous risk.

Previously killed, Lanling could revive, but after truly entering the Netherworld, he might genuinely succumb to death.

The boundary between the Netherworld and reality was stark and daunting, not something Lanling could easily traverse.

Lanling was exceedingly reckless, entirely enveloped by the shadow of death.

Even if death was a certainty, he might still rush into it, heedless!

True indeed, in just a second, he leaped directly into the hell rift!

Almost instantly, he lost all sensation.

His soul and perception plunged into absolute void.

This… this was indeed the essence of death—absence of feeling!

At the same instant, Gou Li, guarding Lanling’s body, noticed a shiver pass through it, then lost all Lanling’s energy signals within her mental domain.

Because to her, Lanling was the master, the sovereign.

Within Gou Li’s mental realm, Lanling’s spiritual energy was like a sun, radiant and prominent.

Suddenly, that sun in Gou Li’s mental sphere extinguished instantly.

Her mental domain plunged into darkness!

No pain, only the despair coiled around a dead heart, beyond consolation.

Gou Li’s pupils dilated, her exquisite figure froze, becoming a statue-like presence.

Not just Gou Li; over two hundred death samurais of the Rock Demon Tribe fell into stasis, standing frozen like living corpses.

In an instant, their spiritual connection with master Lanling was severed.

Bereft of their master, devoid of will, they lost dominion!

There’s a saying: if you don’t court death, you won’t die.

Lanling, repeatedly courting death, truly died.

His entire body slumped into lifelessness, becoming hostless flesh, containing formidable Demon Bloodline, yet lacking a soul.

As his soul plunged into the Netherworld rift chasing the Ghost King, it too dissolved into void.

All the death samurais, instantly severing connection, turned into soulless shells.

Since entering this world, both Suo Lun and Lanling lived on the brink, utterly reckoning with death, even charging toward it.

But this time, he… seemingly faced true death, complete demise?!

Yet one thing was certain; regret was not an option for him.

Time passed unceasingly.

Seemingly a moment, yet like an eternity!

Though Lanling’s soul dissolved into void, it began gradually regaining consciousness.

Like a spark inside pitch darkness, firefly light flickered alive,

yet everything around remained dark, sightless, imperceptible.

Gradually, Lanling’s soul light began to condense, inch by inch.

Finally, forming a complete soul.

Then slowly, awareness of the surrounding world rekindled.

This world, enveloped in void, but depicted a stone gate ahead.

Clearly, this was not the Netherworld.

A wholly alien world, Lanling’s soul drifted about, seeing nothing but the solitary stone gate.

Suddenly, a cold laugh echoed.

The laugh, piercing and eerie, seeming to emerge from the depths of hell, a nightmare’s core.

Lanling immediately thought this was the Ghost King.

“Unexpectedly, someone really entered, hehehehe…” the Ghost King’s voice continued, “I fancied my Netherworld rift flawless, yet you’ve jumped in, entered my crafted plane—you must be wildly reckless or death eager, perhaps simply too ignorant!”

Then, the Ghost King sighed and said, “Finding the Sea of Misfortune through my eyes was against odds. To enter the Ruins of Doom Magic Capital from there exceeded expectations. Transforming into a spirit within and discovering a route to the Netherworld, even less probable; and yet, you risked your life jumping in, entering my fictitious Netherworld plane—a one in a billion occurrence, who are you truly? What drives you?”

Indeed, genuinely a rarity among rarities.

Only genuine madness or sheer genius could have reached here.

“Who are you? What do you seek?” reflected the Ghost King’s voice.

Lanling offered no response.

The Ghost King said, “You’re surely not here to capture me, but rather obtain my power, am I right? Those tasked to capture me aren’t this wild, this indifferent to life itself.”

“You wish for my power? It’s possible!” the Ghost King laughed again.

“Hehehehe…” The Ghost King snickered, “Behind that stone gate ahead lies my burial ground: my sword, my armor, my energy. If you dare, push open the gate and seize them!”

“But I must warn, entering my tomb means a 99.999999999… percent chance of death!”

Note: The company’s annual meeting ended past ten, hence the lesser word count; apologies, and thank you all.