Myth Beyond Heaven

Yun Lintian slammed his palm against the wall. Vermilion bird flames erupted from within his body, instantly forming a barrier around the room.

Nantian Yu's eyes widened in shock. "You..."

Yun Lintian turned to face her. "Don't forget. Don't leave the room."

With that, he opened the window and leaped out with Linlin and Qingqing, disappearing into the night.

Nantian Yu stared blankly at the sky, an eerie mix of darkness and crimson. "Be careful," she muttered.

"Arghhhh!"

"Help me!"

The once joyous bustle of Nine Firmament City had been replaced by a symphony of screams. Shrieks pierced the night air, mingling with the unholy keening of unseen attackers.

Stalls overturned like dominoes, their vibrant wares scattered like discarded toys. Shopkeepers, their eyes wide with terror, were easy prey for the spectral horde that had descended upon the unsuspecting city.

The spectral warriors surged forward. Their forms flickered in and out of existence as they slammed into the unprepared citizens. A young woman selling candied lotus flowers, her laughter still echoing in the air moments before, was snatched by a skeletal hand. Her scream cut short as she vanished into the spectral form.

An old man, hunched over a stall of shimmering silk robes, was cleaved in two by a spectral blade, his life force feeding the insatiable hunger of the ghosts.

Many practitioners started to fight back, unleashing a flurry of spells and profound techniques. Shimmering blades met spectral claws, jade talismans flared against the onslaught of ghostly wails. But the tide of phantoms was overwhelming.

Panic gave way to despair. The spectral warriors were relentless, their forms impervious to mortal steel. With each fallen citizen, the ghosts grew stronger, their wails turning into a chorus of malevolent triumph.

The once vibrant city was now a scene of carnage, the air thick with the stench of blood and ozone. Hope dwindled with each passing breath, leaving only the chilling certainty of a gruesdemise for the city and all its inhabitants.

At this moment, Huang Yiming and the others appeared above the sky, their expressions solemn as they gazed upon the horrific scene.

They swept their spiritual senses across the city, discovering that more than half the people had been brutally slaughtered. Everything happened in a split second, too fast even for True Gods like them to react in time.

"How could they appear here?" Jin Yang, standing behind his father, spoke in a trembling voice. He had never witnessed such a gruesscene before.

No one had an answer. These spectral creatures seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"All the formation nodes have been destroyed," Li Shan said with a grimace. "All our guards are gone. What should we do now, my lord?" The news shocked him greatly. It was clear that whoever was behind this knew everything about this place, like the back of their hand.

Huang Yiming's eyes flickered with a cold light. He raised a hand, and the very fabric of reality seemed to bend to his will. A wave of pure, cleansing energy surged outward, washing over the battlefield. Spectral warriors shrieked in agony as their forms began to disintegrate, their stolen life essence ripped away.

With a flick of his wrist, Huang Yiming unleashed a bolt of golden lightning. The remaining ghosts, overwhelmed by the sheer power of the True God, dissolved into wisps of ectoplasmic smoke, their mournful wails fading into the night.

A collective sigh of relief rippled through Nine Firmament City. The air, thick with the stench of death just moments ago, was slowly being cleansed by the golden light radiating from Huang Yiming. The True God's power lingered, a balm on their shattered spirits.

But as Huang Yiming raised a hand to channel his divine energy and fully heal the wounded, the ground trembled with an unnatural tremor. The golden light flickered, momentarily disrupted. A collective gasp escaped the survivors' lips as a monstrous tear ripped open the very fabric of reality, spewing forth a new, even more terrifying horde.

This wasn't a ragtag group of vengeful spirits like before. This was a disciplined army, their forms radiating a cold, malevolent power unlike anything the citizens of Nine Firmament City had ever witnessed.

Grotesque figures clad in obsidian armor that seemed to devour light itself marched in unison. Their eyes burned with an unholy red fire. At their head stood a towering figure, its form shrouded in shadow. Its voice, a cacophony of whispers, chilled the survivors to the bone.

"Huang Yiming," the entity boomed, its voice echoing through the city. "Do you think you can save them?"

Huang Yiming's expression hardened. The golden light around him flared with renewed intensity, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. "Yin Sikong," he uttered coldly.

The expressions of Jin Huoxuan and the other True Gods changed drastically upon hearing the name. Yin Sikong was one of the most powerful ghost lords under the God of Death.

"Yin Sikong," Jin Huoxuan muttered, his voice laced with trepidation. "That explains the sheer power and organization. But why has he suddenly chere?"

Unwavering in his gaze, Huang Yiming addressed the shadowy figure once more. "Yin Sikong," he boomed, his voice echoing with repressed power, "you overstep your bounds. Withdraw your forces, and I might plead your case before the God of Death."

In Huang Yiming's opinion, Yin Sikong must have acted without permission.

A guttural laugh erupted from the figure, the sound twisting and distorting as it bounced off the spectral warriors. "Plead our case? It seems you have no idea what your master did."

Huang Yiming's golden brows furrowed like cracks in a mountainside. The entity's words hung heavy in the air, a cryptic riddle wrapped in a shroud of darkness. "What do you mean?"

The shadowy figure tilted its head, its unseen eyes seeming to pierce through Huang Yiming's very being. A chilling silence descended upon the battlefield, broken only by the ragged breaths of the wounded and the flickering of spectral embers on the ground. Finally, the entity spoke, its voice a chorus of whispers that sent shivers down the spines of even the True Gods.

"Your precious master, the God of Mortals," it hissed, "killed our people and trampled our dignity!"

"Impossible? Do you think I chere and attack you because I'm bored?" The voice boomed. "Since your master has slaughtered our people, it's rightfully justified forto do the same!"