Chapter 57: Chapter 52: Emperor Fengdu: What Fisherman? Why Are You Forcing a Fishing Line into My Mouth?

With a heavy heart and unease, Ning An was led into the Inner City.

As he passed through the city’s array, Ning An clearly felt his five senses being completely stripped away, but fortunately, it was only for an instant.

The Inner City, appearing to be an abyss from the outside, was surprisingly much better than it looked once inside.

The narrow Inner City, which looked like it was encased in an ostrich egg from the outside, was actually immensely vast within. The legendary Eighteen Levels of Hell were transformed from eighteen planets in this region.

“Younger Brother Ning, come this way.”

Bai Wuchang brought Ning An to a place by a white star, pointing to a thatched hut.

As the largest deity in the Netherworld, naturally, Emperor Fengdu wouldn’t reside on these planets.

Surrounding the thatched hut were two gigantic stone statues resembling the Witch Race, each over a hundred feet tall, both slightly bent at the knees, with bulging arm veins, holding up a Zen Staff.

The Zen Staff seemed ordinary, yet it weighed down the stone statues to the point where they couldn’t straighten up. Although Ning An couldn’t perceive the laws contained within, he did feel an inexplicable pressure.

It was as if what the stone statues were holding up was not a weapon, but a world.

However, that wasn’t the main point.

After all, no matter how strong the pressure, Bai Wuchang’s Divine Power was there to shield them.

The main question was…

Where to go next?

Ning An looked helplessly at the thatched hut in front of him. Even if he were born with a lack of intelligence, he wouldn’t believe the supreme deity of the Netherworld would reside here.

Bai Wuchang and the others from the Witch Race saw Ning An’s expression and gave a simple smile before leading the way, guiding Ning An to a place called Extreme Land.

It was called Extreme Land, but if Ning An wasn’t mistaken, this should be the palm of one of the stone sculptures.

Bai Wuchang then took out a Jade Talisman, waving it in front of the stone sculpture’s eyes, took a deep breath, and with a solemn expression, spoke softly:

“Younger Brother Ning, are you ready?”

“Huh? Ready… for what?”

This question left Ning An perplexed.

Ning An’s already tense heart leaped to its peak again; he couldn’t trust the way these Witch Race Yin Cha operated. The next moment, they might just have him free fall; nothing was impossible.

“What? Ready, good!”

Bai Wuchang only heard the first part and didn’t care about what Ning An was rambling about afterward.

The next moment, the Witch Race including Bai Wuchang pounded their chests, crying out:

“Lord, a friend holding your Token seeks an audience! Lord, open the door!”

The massive Zen Staff began to hum instantly, shooting a ray of light from its tail, landing on Ning An. In just an instant, his figure completely vanished, as if erased like a pencil drawing.

Walt?

Fuck?

Did I time travel again?!

Swish!

In an instant, Ning An felt his body no longer belonged to him, the feeling exactly as when he first arrived in this world.

He didn’t dare open his eyes, but his consciousness seemed to be alive at that moment, watching as his body melted like a candle.

About a second, a minute, or even an hour later…

Time had become indiscernible.

Suddenly, there was a sensation under his feet, and Ning An cautiously opened his eyes, only to be completely filled by the sight of several gigantic figures.

They were towering Daoist figures, sitting cross-legged, their expressions unclear, seemingly in conversation.

Seeing Ning An’s figure, one of them laughed and said:

“Gentlemen, it seems we have another junior brother.”

The Daoist smiled kindly at Ning An, extending his Divine Sense to exchange breaths with him.

“Hmm~” When his Divine Sense touched Ning An, he uttered a soft hmm,

“No cultivation level? But holding this item?”

Before Ning An could respond to where he was, another Daoist suddenly shrank to his size, flashed over to him.

“It really is that Small Sword, hey.”

The Daoist looked at the red Small Sword, eyes full of envy, then returned the sword to its place.

“It truly is that sword, the aura on it was left by my master himself. Hey, you lad, what luck, allow me to send you on your way!”

Ning An felt a tremendous force from behind, like being hit by a heavy pickup truck, only somewhat gentler.

He only felt his soul spinning, heading toward some unknown direction.

“Wait, I… get dizzy.”

“What? Naturally not dizzy? Alright then, I’ll increase the intensity.”

The Daoist laughed heartily.

The laughter faded from clarity to audibility, to mosquito-buzzing size, before disappearing completely.

Throughout the process, Ning An felt drowsy, his entire muscles seemed compressed by invisible pressure, bones creaking painfully.

Whoosh!

In dizziness, Ning An suddenly felt the pulverizing sensation gradually disappeared. When he looked up, he found himself in another space.

Unlike the gray-black hues outside the city and the green tones within, this place was a vast expanse of gray, resembling a geomantic painting by an ancient scholar.

Even the bright robe he was wearing started to fade, merging with the surrounding environment.

As far as the eye could see, houses, walls, furniture, farm implements, even the beams were lines that trembled.

Every step he took, the ink lines moved accordingly, ensuring the space he occupied remained the blank space of the painting, maintaining its harmony.

In the distance, smoke curled up, paths crisscrossed, even chickens and dogs could be heard, represented vividly by the ink lines, replacing his five senses with the most real feeling.

“Is anyone there?”

Having gone through so much, Ning An’s vigilance had dropped instead. Any of these phenomena were beyond his imagination.

The master of such a place could harm him as easily as stepping on an ant. His so-called vigilance in their presence would only be laughable.

Creak!

A door suddenly appeared, then slowly opened.

Ning An entered without hesitation, striding through the door.

The interior scene was as simple as the outside, with just a few strokes of ink delineating the inner room.

As Ning An stepped in and looked around, his eyes instantly locked on a figure lying in a grand master’s chair.

Not because Ning An was adept at spotting, but because that elder was the only presence with color.

With a second glance, Ning An recognized the master of this place.

Emperor Fengdu!

Wasn’t this his foster father, whom he thought about day and night!

Ning An immediately slid to his knees:

“Junior Ning An greets Emperor Fengdu!”

“Xiaobai has already told me about your situation.” Emperor Fengdu opened his eyes, looking at Ning An without any expression.

“He said he saw my Token, the Small Sword, and didn’t know how to handle it, so I had him bring you here.”

The speaking Emperor Fengdu resembled a retired old man from the mortal world, with a gentle demeanor, speaking unhurriedly, and a slight smile.

“The Token you hold was taken forcefully from me by an Outer Realm entity countless years ago after suppressing me. It’s no surprise they don’t recognize it.”

“Great Emperor!”

Ning An’s scalp tingled instantly, wanting to explain.

Could the so-called system be a fishing line from an unknown entity?!

“To be honest, I had no intention of meeting you, but to my surprise, you abandoned the orthodox cultivation methods of the Daoist Sect to cultivate the method I passed down. Now I can’t refuse to see you.”

Emperor Fengdu smiled, shaking his head slightly.

“Before you entered the Netherworld, I even discussed with your senior brothers that Spiritual Qi in the world was scarce, leaving Daoist traditions struggling, fearing that my method would face even greater challenges…”

Emperor Fengdu seemed to be chatting about family matters, while Ning An’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.

He had a bold idea!

“If I used up all the Enchanting Words now, what would happen?!!”

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