Love letters are not allowed in the exorcism notebook!-Chapter 816 - 63: On The Path of the Netherworld, Guarded by the Souls of Heroes

Wang Yunxiao took one look and immediately realized this thing wasn’t domestic.

The Spider Demons back home loved taking baths—they wouldn’t live this deep underground.

With Lianluo personally guarding this area, even if spiders crawled up, there was no need to worry.

What we should really be concerned about, though, is whether her Panda Bomb might collapse the tunnel.

And as it turns out, that worry was very much warranted.

Not five minutes after leaving the icy bridge, a violent tremor shook the ground behind them, causing snow and ice from overhead to come crashing down.

The good news, however, was that this perilous journey was nearing its end.

Passing through another gate, the swirling snowstorm instantly disappeared, replaced by an eerily silent realm that seemed to muddle the senses.

Wang Yunxiao instinctively covered his nose and mouth, though he didn’t actually smell anything unusual.

Then, in the thin mist far ahead, he spotted a dilapidated temple.

On the battered plaque at the temple’s entrance, three characters could still faintly be made out: "City God Temple."

This is the Netherworld!

Teacher Liu once explained in class that the Outer Dimension could be categorized into three types.

The first type is the Higher Dimension—the legendary Heavenly Realm and Star Realm.

The second type is the Subordinate Dimension—smaller dimensions like Nanke High School that attach themselves to the Real World or, alternatively, Plane Fragments.

The last type is more peculiar: Dreamland and the Netherworld.

Dreams and death are concepts beyond normal human comprehension, yet universally understood by all of humanity.

Unlike the wildly different myths, customs, and traditions across various cultures, dreams and death are universally familiar, yet remain enigmatic.

Thus, Dreamland and the Netherworld are able to overlap and intertwine with all other dimensions.

Like sugar and salt, indispensable seasonings for any dish.

This familiar sensation reminded Wang Yunxiao of the feeling he had when he first entered the Thousand-Year Dynasty World. Undoubtedly, this was the Netherworld—but not the Netherworld he was accustomed to.

They had successfully reached the other side.

The path underfoot continued forward endlessly; though there were no clear markers, in this terrifyingly eerie place, moving ahead seemed to be the only option available.

"Did you hear something?"

The moment Wang Yunxiao heard someone say that, he knew trouble was coming.

Quickly! Stuff a cloth, throw a hood over their head, tie them up—the whole package!

It had been ages since the crew had handled this sort of task, and their movements were visibly rusty.

The Special Service Section’s second squad members walking alongside them blushed bright red—they had experienced this very "service" the last time themselves.

"Don’t stop! Move faster! Keep going forward! Run! You’ll be home soon!"

Wang Yunxiao shouted loudly to rally morale.

His vision, far sharper than most, could already make out faint figures wobbling toward them through the mist ahead.

A chilling wave of dread washed over everyone, forcing them to pick up their pace instinctively.

Still, not everyone could run.

Li Mingshen, burdened by his heavy pack, clenched his teeth and trudged along at the back of the group, veins bulging on his forehead.

Age had caught up with him; carrying a load many times heavier than the others, no matter how hard he tried, his steps grew heavier and heavier.

When age begins to show its frailty, it naturally invites the attention of Evil Spirits.

Suddenly, his foot slipped—he stumbled and fell to the ground with a thud. As he propped himself up, a sharp pain accompanied by the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth; he felt as though he might’ve chipped a tooth.

Dazed, he saw a grotesque big-headed ghost closing in on him, its long tongue reaching out to lick his face.

"Get lost—!"

Li Mingshen roared furiously, spitting a mouthful of blood and saliva that splattered all over the big-headed ghost. With a screech, the ghost turned into billowing black smoke and dispersed.

"My life is not yours to take, you wretch!"

Wang Yunxiao quickly rushed over and pulled him up.

"My books! My books!"

Li Mingshen, his mouth bleeding profusely, still struggled to retrieve his own pack.

"Matuan!"

Ghost Creatures swarmed from all directions, plunging the entire group into chaos. Wang Yunxiao had no time to pick up the pack; instead, he called out to the brothers behind him.

If it weren’t for the ordinary humans slowing him down, he could’ve handled these insignificant creatures by eating them raw with mustard and soy sauce.

The real issue, however, was precisely these ordinary humans—they were screaming, crying, running around in panic, and even having convulsions, foaming at the mouth on the spot. They couldn’t be held back even with both hands.

With a rush of noise, countless paper sheets scattered into the air.

The hidden Advisor, Little Gourd, finally made her move.

Every bizarre Ghost Creature touched by her paper instantly vanished, becoming lifelike illustrations on the sheets.

But at this moment, Wang Yunxiao didn’t relax. Instead, his vigilance heightened.

The Chess Herald and Advisor were at their most vulnerable when they attacked.

If they encountered a shameless ancient specter scheming to launch a surprise attack, even the formation of Garrison Soldiers wouldn’t be able to fully protect them.

Didn’t they say there weren’t supposed to be any Extraordinary Powers here? Ghosts don’t count as extraordinary?

Wang Yunxiao wanted to curse out loud.

Though the Evil Spirits were temporarily captured by Little Gourd, a number of zombie-like Ghost Creatures still lingered nearby. They seemed to be of higher rank, as Little Gourd’s techniques were ineffective against them.

When these creatures got closer, Wang Yunxiao finally noticed they were wielding large blades and spears, bearing bizarre, inexplicable talismans painted across their mutilated bodies. It seemed they had suffered horrific torment in life.

The deeper one’s resentment in life, the easier it is to become a Fierce Ghost after death.

Just as Wang Yunxiao prepared to act, a heavy sigh echoed in the air.

Then, a voice spoke: "Brothers, let them pass."

Upon hearing this, the Ghost Creatures unexpectedly halted their advance.

Wang Yunxiao followed the sound, noticing he had unknowingly walked beneath a gate tower. On top of the tower hung a high severed head, its face smeared with dried, filthy blood—but it looked vaguely familiar.

Li Mingshen muttered under his breath, "So it’s Wang Lu the hero. When the Foreigners’ Allied Forces took the city, he led his brothers in a fierce battle lasting days, refusing to retreat. Later, to protect the fleeing women and children, he surrendered voluntarily and was beheaded by the Foreigners for all to see, his head hung above South City’s gate..."

It was him?

Wang Yunxiao’s heart swirled with emotion, recalling the moment he had unknowingly entered that time fragment in the Moat Dimension.

"Hurry forward, everyone. Beyond this gate lies the road to the living world."

The severed head atop the gate spoke again. "Do not fear my brothers. In life, they were all valiant heroes—they simply don’t recognize the living."