It was indeed the Gate of Hell, a place existing in the deepest reaches of the Nine Hells, representing in some way the border between life and death, that had appeared in the mortal realm!

Thus, the ever-present, thick fog now had a reasonable explanation. This fog was not man-made, but a natural condensation of the laws of Heaven and Earth.

For the Underworld and the Azure Sky were never meant to meet. The Gate of Hell’s appearance in the mortal world necessitated concealment.

The roaming souls, gathered here in numbers far exceeding the living inhabitants of Little Stream Town, suddenly had a reason for their existence. The souls gravitated toward the Gate of Hell as a primal instinct, devoid of consciousness. Undoubtedly, almost all the roaming souls of Maple Leaf City’s domain were gathered here. Moreover, it was foreseeable that as long as this Gate of Hell remained, the gathered souls would only increase in number and power!

But how could the Gate of Hell appear here?

Wei Yan, almost without hesitation, understanding the meaning of those three words, “Gate of Hell,” drew from his robes a vermillion, ancient-looking signal incense and offered it to Zhao Lang. “Quick!”

He naturally carried a firestone, and was not unfamiliar with fire-based Daoist arts himself. But Zhao Lang was undoubtedly faster.

Having partnered with Wei Yan for many years, their understanding was implicit. As the vermillion signal incense was offered, Zhao Lang already rubbed his fingers together, sending a cluster of flames to engulf the incense, burning the not-so-small stick completely in a very short time.

Only then did his expression darken somewhat. “That was your only red signal incense, wasn’t it?”

In the armies of the State of Zhuang, signal incense was divided into black, red, and yellow, only available to those of a certain rank, making them invaluable strategic items. The burning of black incense signified a nationwide last stand; only a few in the entire State of Zhuang were qualified to ignite it.

The burning of yellow incense represented the igniter being in dire straits.

And between those two was red incense, representing the danger of a city’s fall or loss of territory!

The burning of red incense would shake all of Maple Leaf City, even surely alarm Wei Quji.

Currently, the City Guard and the Enforcers of Justice were both occupied within Maple Leaf City, and Wei Quji’s presence in the City Lord’s manor was a matter of touching one part to affect the whole. Was Little Stream Town, currently posing no apparent threat beyond the roaming souls, worth Wei Quji’s personal attention? Or, put another way, if Wei Yan misjudged the situation, and Wei Quji’s departure caused problems in Maple Leaf City, could he bear the responsibility?

But such questions were unnecessary to consider, not in the face of those three words.

Because… it was the Gate of Hell.

Appearing in countless legends, it was faintly a microcosm of the mythological era.

In fact, the moment the red incense phantom appeared before him, Wei Quji, the City Lord himself, had taken off without hesitation!

He ascended into the sky, his entire person enveloped in a swirling hurricane, roaring toward Little Stream Town.

Almost simultaneously, Dong A, who was in quiet meditation, also abruptly opened his eyes. At all times, a powerhouse of this level had to be present in Maple Leaf City. Since Wei Quji had left, he could no longer depart.

He himself did not move, but his majestic voice echoed beyond the room. “Order all disciples within reach, regardless of their current task or cultivation, to immediately cease what they are doing and return to Maple Leaf City!”

The Dao Academy indeed cultivated the hope of the State of Zhuang, with a lengthy process of growth preceding it. But when the homeland was in danger, everyone had to fight for it.

Meanwhile, the current Vice Dean of the Dao Academy, Song Qifang, was sitting cross-legged before an alchemy furnace, lightly waving a palm-leaf fan in his hand, tending to the fire. He gave a very soft sigh, “Old.”

…

In Little Stream Town, Wei Yan did not pause after igniting the red incense. Instead, he immediately slashed horizontally with his long blade, its sharp edge nearly tearing the air before dissipating against the paifang archway.

Yes, it disappeared silently, without a ripple.

Subsequent attacks were the same. Whether it was raging fire or violent winds, any Daoist art cast upon it vanished without a trace. Ling He even threw his personal sword at it, but it too disappeared without a trace.

It was as if it did not exist. Not only did it not exist, but anything that came into contact with it ceased to exist as well.

Huang Azhan stood before the Gate of Hell, hesitating for a long time. He had a very persistent confidence in his virgin urine, but after seeing Ling He’s sword disappear, he regretfully chose to give up.

“This vortex… it must be connected to the Underworld. Relying on so many unjustly dead here… our attacks are all landing in the Underworld, not in the mortal realm,” Wang Changxiang analyzed, frowning. “What appears before us, this must be the reflection of the Gate of Hell, and even the reflection hasn’t fully formed.”

Hadn’t fully formed?

Jiang Wang had seen the characters on the plaque in the Mirage, knew they were Daoist script, words expounding the laws of Heaven and Earth. He had been pondering what the Gate of Hell’s appearance in Little Stream Town represented, and only now, hearing Wang Changxiang’s analysis, did he feel a sudden chill.

When, then, would the true reflection of the Gate of Hell solidify, and in what way? And what would it ultimately bring here?

People quickly had an answer.

It was those countless roaming souls that permeated Little Stream Town, impossible to kill off completely, ceaseless in their attack. But at this moment, they swarmed toward them, gathering at the center.

The group could no longer concern themselves with anything else. They could only repeat their earlier tactic, retreating some distance and using fire-based Daoist arts to draw a circle, fortifying themselves within.

If someone could pierce the fog and look down from the sky, they would see countless roaming souls charging over under the attraction of some force. That vast, mighty river of souls flowed like a hundred streams rushing into the sea!

And the disciples from Maple Leaf City’s Dao Academy, as well as Wei Yan and Zhao Lang, were like bitter reefs being washed by the river.

Unable to move, unable to resist, and with no end in sight!

“All the roaming souls from the entire Maple Leaf City domain are being drawn over. Perhaps… we’re going to die here,” Wang Changxiang said with a bitter smile.

These roaming souls were not particularly powerful in themselves, and they had been relatively free to move in and out of the formation earlier. But that was on the premise that the souls were simply wandering aimlessly, only attacking instinctively when living beings approached. Now that these souls were gathering in one place, they were standing directly in the path.

There were too many, seemingly without end!

At least, in the field of vision that Wang Changxiang could barely maintain, they saw no end to the souls.

What they didn’t know was that if earlier, it was only the souls of Little Stream Town’s deceased gathered here, while sporadically attracting souls from further away, now the unscattered souls of the entire Maple Leaf City domain were converging here, at a speed far exceeding what they could normally achieve.

Those densely packed lines of roaming souls cutting through the sky formed a web-like spectacle in spiritual vision across the entire Maple Leaf City domain, moving countless powerhouses.

“Not necessarily,” Wei Yan’s voice was somewhat cold, as was his heart. “The City Lord will be here soon.”

No one knew how much he didn’t want to light that red incense, didn’t want that person to see him weak and seeking help. But he couldn’t afford to indulge his pride. Facing a legendary existence like the Gate of Hell, he could not gamble the safety of Maple Leaf City for the sake of his self-respect.

Jiang Wang was also watching those souls that bypassed the “reef” and roared toward the Gate of Hell, only to be absorbed and dissipated in an instant. His mood was complex, indescribable.

These souls likely had no consciousness. Therefore, there was no struggling, no howling, and seemingly no regrets or pain.

But they had all been living people. They were all souls of the living that should have rested in peace!

Among them, perhaps someone had brushed past him, or someone he once knew, or his neighbor, his grandparents, or perhaps… his father.

He widened his eyes, searching among the densely packed souls for his father, who had died of illness on the sickbed. The man who wasn’t tall but had always supported his sky.

The souls flashed by in an instant, like lightning, coming from all directions. He stared only at the direction from Phoenix Stream Town, his eyes bloodshot, but he couldn’t see them all.

He had lived alone for a long time, not wanting to show his vulnerability. Later, living with An’an, he had to be strong as an older brother. He had hardly ever said it, but truly, he missed him so much!

Jiang Wang wanted to see him one more time, but he was also so afraid of seeing him.

So afraid of the powerlessness he felt before the Gate of Hell.

Suddenly, it seemed to reach a critical point, the vast river of souls clearing in an instant under some force. And the phantom of the Gate of Hell above the vortex became incomparably clear and concrete.

In the next instant, Wei Quji, the City Lord of Maple Leaf City, descended from the sky, wrapped in a hurricane. But the phantom of the Gate of Hell vanished at the same time!

Vaguely, Jiang Wang seemed to feel a wisp of breeze brush his cheek, but after a moment of distraction, everything before him had changed.

The enormous vortex was gone, and the fog that had gathered in Little Stream Town immediately dissipated.

Everything had vanished, the Underworld and the Azure Sky separated once more!