Mrs. and Mr. Smith-Chapter 2273 - 2271 Person of the Nine Worlds
Chapter 2273: Chapter 2271: Person of the Nine Worlds
Chapter 2273 -2271: Person of the Nine Worlds
Countless factors pointed to a connection between the two. Heading down for a personal exploration was the only way to truly resolve the matter. Danger also represented opportunity, and this was precisely why so many cultivators were desperate to descend.
*He could choose to hide safely for as long as possible, but when the true chaos finally descended, would he have the strength to protect those he cared about?*
“Man with the mustache, this place isn’t necessarily safe either. I can sense that a significant portion of the spiritual energy from the dead cultivators has merged with that Red-haired Ghoul. At this rate, even the formation might not hold. Think it over yourself,” Ethan Smith cautioned.
Ethan spoke solemnly. Though the man with the mustache harbored many secrets,
*he had never betrayed Ethan. Privately, Ethan already regarded him as a friend.*
“Haha, you really are something! My trust in you hasn’t been in vain,” the man with the mustache said, laughing cheerfully.
Ethan rolled his eyes. At moments like this, only the man with the mustache could maintain his carefree demeanor.
“I still trust my gut. If I die here, I’ll burn less paper money for you, of course. But if I make it out alive, remember—half of the treasure is mine,” the man with the mustache roared with laughter.
A deep green light suddenly appeared, and in an instant, a broken bronze horn appeared in Ethan’s hands.
The horn was encrusted with mossy layers of dark green and faintly concealed numerous humanoid engravings.
“Use ghost qi to refine this magical artifact,” the man with the mustache instructed.
Ethan activated the Chaotic Nightmare Heart Technique, and as ghost qi infused the horn, a dull, ominous sound reverberated.
*The sound wasn’t loud, yet it seemed to echo directly within his divine sense.*
The Red-haired Ghoul abruptly stopped struggling, frozen within the rune’s restraints.
In an instant, it let out a piercing, harrowing scream, revealing a massive, blood-red maw.
Its teeth, serrated and densely packed like a saw blade, sent chills down the spines of the surrounding cultivators. Then, suddenly, its muscles bulged, and with an explosive force, the blood-red scythe shattered the rune into fragments, lunging straight at Ethan.
*Ethan’s legs nearly gave way beneath him. By now, the Red-haired Ghoul was far beyond his ability to contend with.*
“Old Eight, Eight Brother—no, Eight Master! Please don’t let your artifact screw me over!” Ethan stammered, his divine soul trembling in fear.
Just as the scythe was about to slice through him, a cloud of black mist surged out from the horn.
The ghost qi enveloped Ethan and swiftly hurled him into the air, plunging him toward the center of the formation.
In an instant, Ethan found himself before a narrow corridor.
The tunnel was about five feet high, forcing anyone passing through to stoop.
Deep scars from attacks marked parts of the passage,
likely inflicted by those who had ventured here before—but they failed to leave any lasting damage.
Ethan bent down and moved forward cautiously. This Ghost Mansion Land had endured far longer than he had; what harm was a little bowing?
The seemingly endless corridor stretched on. Ethan ignited his Purple Flame, casting light upon a section of the passage.
*Even though he was able to make out the rough contours of the wall, the moment its features came into view, Ethan couldn’t help but gasp.*
Etched into the walls were ancient frescoes, depicting countless scenes of a Great War. The appearance of the cultivators in the images bore notable differences compared to today’s humans.
However, the centerpiece of these frescoes was unmistakable: the masked woman!
*So, it was indeed the masked woman who left behind this Mystic Realm. Ethan was utterly shocked, wondering if Clare Richardson might be here as well.*
Ethan continued forward, and the frescoes seemed to chronicle the masked woman’s nine cycles of existence.
Countless seas of blood and piles of human corpses—Ethan could almost feel the ferocity of these ancient clashes seep through the frescoes.
*But Ethan was puzzled. The wars chosen by the masked woman appeared completely random, as if she were a tireless killing machine, forever immersed in battle until her ultimate demise.*
Still, the frescoes recorded one unnerving fact: every time the masked woman met her death, she would prepare a grave and pave the path for her next reincarnation.
In one mural, the masked woman faced an indescribably massive monster whose eyes alone were as large as mountains. In its presence, the masked woman seemed as insignificant as an ant. Faced with such an overwhelming disparity, the masked woman perished.
In every lifetime, the masked woman died at the hands of this monster, yet she persistently sought to challenge it.
This was the ninth lifetime. On the walls of the corridor, there were carvings of eleven figures.
The fresco depicted this very place.
“Eleven people?” Ethan suddenly felt a cold dread wash over him.
The Blood Sect Sovereign Gux Mingdo’s token could transport ten individuals to this place, and the man with the mustache’s broken magical artifact had also brought Ethan here. That meant they were eleven in total—was this all deliberate from the start?
*A grave sense of unease enveloped Ethan’s heart. This feeling of being manipulated as someone else’s pawn was deeply unsettling.*
At the end of the passage, a painting depicted the Great Thousand World, littered with endless corpses upon its land. Not a single living soul remained.
*The chill seemed to climb from Ethan’s feet to the top of his head, plunging him into an icy abyss.*
“Is this a prophecy, or the masked woman’s calculated vision of the future? If this is true, it means the coming age will descend into utter chaos,” Ethan speculated, forcing himself to suppress the growing unease in his mind as he continued forward. There was no retreat anymore.
Up ahead, a terrifying wave of energy rippled toward him.
Ethan quickened his pace and passed through the corridor.
On the other side, a magnificent, vast space unfolded before him.
In the center of this radiant golden space lay an unbearably luxurious coffin.
“Ethan, how did you get here?”
Zendaya Reed’s face betrayed a look of shock as soon as she saw Ethan.
Other figures also appeared visibly surprised, but their attention remained fixed on the opulent coffin above. They didn’t press him for answers.
“Damn it, I’m asking you a question—did you hear me?” Zendaya snapped, her anger erupting when Ethan ignored her entirely.
“Shut up. Keep yapping, and I’ll cut you down,” Ethan said, casting her an icy glare.
“Nine lifetimes, slaughtering countless cultivators in every reincarnation and staining the Path of Heaven with rivers of blood. Today, I’ll punish this abomination!”
Punishing Evil declared coldly, directing his words toward the coffin.
As if responding to Punishing Evil’s statement, immense streams of energy from all directions surged into the coffin.
An intangible, massive force took shape, and the oppressive aura bore down heavily on every person present.
“What horrifying energy! This must be the accumulated power earned through the massacre of half of Purgatory’s inhabitants. Can we handle this?”
Gux Mingdo asked anxiously, his worry evident as this overwhelming energy seemed to approach its peak.
