Aspiring to the Immortal Path Chapter 1039: Rescue

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

The skies of the Flame Yang Domain had gone dark.

Inky clouds blotted out the heavens, obscuring the sun.

Black rain fell from the clouds. As it fell on rocks, it ate away at them. As it fell on plants, the plants decayed. As it fell on birds and beasts, all the various creatures wailed in sorrow, writhing as their flesh fell away, leaving only skeletons and two balls of flame burning in their eye sockets. Some of them didn't even leave skeletons, leaving only their soul combined with spiritual energy—another ghost to add to that endless ghost army.

The land of the Flame Yang Domain had become a world of the dead.

Zombies and ghosts of all kinds stalked the land, and a sinister energy lay thick over the earth, resounding with wails and shrieks, with no daylight to repel them.

There were savage ghosts that feasted on flesh and blood, leaving no corpse intact in their wake. And there were the ruthless and cruel that devoured souls, leaving behind bodies that had died in bizarre fashions, and while their bodies were whole, none of them had died peacefully. There were also those that feasted on emotions and desires, transforming into humans or possessing them so that they could incite conflict and stimulate envy and fear to feed on. Although they drew no blood with their weapons, they dealt just as much damage as the other two kinds, lowering the ability of the humans to resist.

Even so, the Flame Yang cultivators put up a strong resistance. They gathered together under various leaders and fought to the death with the invading ghosts. Occasionally, flames would erupt in the skies, sending blazing ghosts falling from the heavens and evaporating black rain. Of course, cultivators were also falling.

Some of them died and transformed into spiritual rains to nourish the earth, resisting even in death. Others turned into ghosts and began to attack their former comrades, much to the grief and indignation of the survivors.

Yuan Tianzhong could see all of this from the Spiral Flame.

In his eyes, black smoke billowed and flames burned, ash mixing with the black clouds to create a despairing scene of apocalypse, lamenting cries filled with endless sorrow resounding through the world.

"Sect Master!" That young man called Little Wu flew back, his body covered in soot. Prostrating before Yuan Tianzhong, he said, "The cities of White Mountain, Radiance, and Bluewater have all fallen, while Violetstone is besieged by a large number of ghosts!"

Gazing up at the black sky, Yuan Tianzhong simply said, "I see."

Little Wu raised his head in shock. "Sect Master…"

"I know that you are surprised, but in a cultivator war, it doesn't matter if a city or land is lost. What matters is the people. So long as there are still people… this flood of ghosts will eventually subside."

Little Wu shuddered. "But the ordinary people…!"

Yuan Tianzhong sighed and shook his head. "We can't protect them. Let the ghosts take what they please."

"But, Sect Master, handing people over to the Nether Domain is basically gifting them soldiers. Whether it's for them or ourselves, we should…" Before Little Wu could finish, Yuan Tianzhong sent him flying with a wave of his sleeve.

He naturally understood that handing over the civilians that they didn't have time to evacuate to the Nether Domain was supplying the enemy.

But newborn ghosts had limited strength. The real fear was the greater ghosts lurking in the shadows. Only by focusing their power on those stronger existences could they hold the Flame Yang Domain. For this purpose, some sacrifices were inevitable.

Yuan Tianzhong heaved a sigh. "This is Fate!"

His eyes lost their focus as if he could see the plan laid out within the depths of the Sea of Fate.

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The Ghost March Ship finally emerged from the vortex to the other side.

After his long journey in the Nether Domain, Tang Jie had finally returned to the mortal plane, though he hadn't expected it to be like this.

Ghosts were everywhere, wreaking havoc on a land wracked with sorrow.

This Nether Domain invasion had left nothing but devastation.

Tang Jie couldn't help but be grief-stricken and furious over this sight, but he had to endure, taking in a deep breath. "Saros!"

"Master!" the ghost eagle respectfully replied.

Tang Jie pointed at all the ghosts roaming around. "Gather up all of these wild ghosts."

The ghost eagle hesitantly said, "The Ghost March Ship can't hold that many ghost soldiers."

"There's no need to hold them, only have them follow behind. They just need to listen to orders."

Those mindless ghosts could only act according to instinct and couldn't receive orders, but the Spirit Communion Grass could grant them just barely enough intelligence to accept orders. Of course, there was no hope of getting them to work together, and their role was purely that of cannon fodder.

Even so, controlling so many ghosts would greatly drain the Spirit Communion Grass. Compared to converting elite ghosts, it clearly wasn't worthwhile. But this was not the proper way to measure its impact. If these ghosts were allowed to roam, they would undoubtedly bring disaster on the surrounding cities. While disaster was already inevitable, Tang Jie was trying his best to create more survivors.

Subduing these ghosts under his banner would minimize the damage they did and give the humans more time to react. At the same time, it bolstered his own forces if he battled against other ghost ships.

This was why Tang Jie issued the order without hesitation.

After giving the order, Tang Jie handed off command of the Ghost March Ship to Saros while he flew off to a human city in the distance.

Plumes of smoke were rising from it, and the sounds of fighting could be heard.

As he flew closer, Tang Jie saw cultivators on the walls leading soldiers in fending off the attacking ghosts.

While these ghost soldiers were of the lowest class of ghost, acting entirely on instinct, the soldiers on the walls were little better. Most of them hadn't even seen cultivators before, so the sight of so many ghosts had them trembling in fear.

There were so many ghosts that if some cultivators hadn't been casting spells to raise morale, the soldiers would have scattered to the wind.

But this city probably wouldn't last long against this flood of ghosts.

When Tang Jie arrived, he saw a Preta at the front. This Preta was clearly at the general level, and as it opened its mouth toward the walls, it began to exert a powerful pull. Several dozen soldiers were instantly pulled toward the Preta and down into its mouth. Despite being around the same size as an ordinary human, it had swallowed up several dozen people at once without showing any change in size.

Yet this Preta still wasn't full. Pretas could never be satiated and were fated to devour and devour until they died. The Preta opened its mouth once more, forming another vacuum.

But as it was about to suck more people up, someone shot out and threw something into the vacuum. "Eat this instead."

That object flew right into Preta's mouth. Pretas weren't picky about what they ate, devouring whatever came into their mouths.

A moment later, flames erupted from its mouth, and the ghost wailed in pain and soon burned to ashes. But the people it had already swallowed were gone without a trace.

"Hurray for Senior Brother Li!" Cheers erupted from the humans.

"In the end, it's just a cup of water over a burning cart." The man who had exterminated the Preta wiped the sweat off his brow. Taking down the Preta had cost him a Pyrothunder Pearl. Pyrothunder Pearls were difficult to make, while the ghosts here were simply endless. If this continued, the city would ultimately fall. This thought filled his eyes with despair.

He looked into the distance and saw six ghost ships in total.

After experiencing several battles, the man understood that these ghost ships were the heart of the ghost flood. While the ghosts covering the land were numerous, they were ultimately mindless and weak. Even ordinary soldiers could kill them if they were given the means. But the soldiers on the ghost ships were completely different. He had even seen with his own eyes the wild ghost soldiers instantly growing stronger the moment they boarded these ships.

These ghost ships had the power to create formations and turn quantity into quality.

They were like officers in an army, and so long as there were officers, the army would remain.

He had once attempted to lure the enemy in so that he could take them by surprise with a sudden attack, but the commanders of those ghost ships were too cunning for that. They used the ordinary ghosts as cannon fodder, wearing away at the human forces while they waited for the right moment, refusing to take any bait he proffered. He had no choice but to lead his fellow disciples in an assault on them, but the ghost ships ended up using his strategy, resulting in the loss of several of his brothers. Even his master had died in order to cover their retreat, becoming a ghost that joined the Nether Domain army.

A man wielding a sword rushed over and said, "Senior Brother Li, there's no end to these ghosts. We really won't be able to hold if this continues. Let's retreat!"

Senior Brother Li replied, "What of the civilians?"

The swordsman shook his head. "There are still one hundred thousand. I'm afraid they won't make it."

Ordinary civilians couldn't compare to the speed of cultivators, so no matter how much they did, it was impossible to evacuate all of them.

Senior Brother Li despaired at the number of people remaining. "Is there really no way to protect everyone?"

"Senior Brother, if we don't go now, we won't get another chance!" another junior brother shouted.

In the distance, another ghost ship was approaching, and flying ahead of this ship was a fearsome winged ghost, holding a fork and exuding an intimidating aura.

This was clearly a formidable foe.

Someone realized what this was and shouted, "A Yaksha! A Skyborne Yaksha is coming!"

The mention of the Yaksha made everyone lose all hope.

The Skyborne Yaksha of the Nether Domain were renowned in the mortal plane for their ferocity.

But just when they were about to lose all hope, that Yaksha stopped in the air and said in human tongue, "Starting from now, this city belongs to Maraju. All other ghost ships, back off while this king is still being polite."