Immortal and Martial Dual Cultivation Chapter 973: Gates of Hell

Qing Cheng put away the ice flower and said with a serious expression, “You are too troublesome. Since when you are in charge of making decisions? Get Elder Han to come back. Tell him to help me find Soul Returning Grass within one month.”

After getting scolded, Jiang Chengzi could not help being stunned. However, he still followed orders.

Qing Cheng hesitated for a while before saying, “Martial Uncle Feng, continue to follow them. When they reach the Gates of Hell, let me know. I should make a trip to Yellow Springs Road and the Bridge of Helplessness as well.”

After the old man left, Qing Cheng summoned out the Cycle Banner. As she looked at the flickering black Death Qi, she muttered, “With the assistance of this Death Qi, I can break through my bottleneck in one month. Xie Zixuan, when that happens, tell me again whether my spirits are worth using or not.”

------

After a night passed, Xiao Chen and the others had recovered back to their peak states. Then, they followed the directions on their map and rushed towards the eighth layer of purgatory.

The group needed to travel through several layers of purgatory in the process. Although each layer of purgatory was now different from how it had been during the Immortal Epoch, the danger had not decreased at all.

Without Qing Cheng leading the way, Xiao Chen’s group slowed down significantly, occasionally ending up taking detours, even stumbling into a few forbidden lands.

Hence, the four used more than twice the time they would have. However, there were benefits too. The “coincidences” stopped happening, and they did not need to fight with any other Ghost Race experts.

After wasting close to a month, they finally arrived at the eighth layer—the Skin Flaying Hell, a dense forest filled with Black Iron Trees.

Skin hung all over the trees, looking very gloomy and sinister. The group carefully walked through the forest, heading towards the place where legend said that death would definitely follow, the land where one would breathe their last.

Nearly no other cultivator c

…