I Am Loaded with Passive Skills

Chapter 3984: Chapter 1901: Commencing the Slaughter

A declaration shatters the hierarchy, immediately sentencing to death.

The piercing, shrill sound penetrates through the fleshy barriers, its indisputable echo booming across the ten cities of the Yin Cao.

Those trapped within the city borders feel a thousand jins bearing down upon them, shivering uncontrollably from the depths of their soul.

One by one, they look around in panic, eyes full of confusion.

Force!

The divine palace’s force in the Yin Cao is too strong!

Compared to the pressure felt during the Sword Ancestor’s previous chanting, the pressure here is dozens of times stronger.

Everyone is searching for that person, but no one sees him.

It’s as if even the potent Eighth Sword Deity, trapped in this place, can only blend in with the ordinary among the assemblages of Lingyu and the trial-takers of the Ghost Buddha Realm.

"Can’t even get through the door..."

"But he’s Bazhun’an!"

An ancient swordsman said bitterly.

The trust and belief in him, an icon for all the swordsmen from the Eastern Region, seem to crumble away alongside the sound of the declaration.

Just then, a soft chuckle echoes from the void:

"Many tricks and schemes, yet reluctant to show their faces. After waiting so long, is this all they’re trying me with?"

— Bazhun’an’s voice!

The calmness and artistry inherent in his voice ignite hope for many people.

At the very least, Bazhun’an was not crushed by the divine palace’s overwhelming force like these ants around him.

Ha ha ha...

The will-o-wisps flicker.

The countless Yin ghosts forming the fleshy barrier twist their heads in unison, countless gazes converging on a single point.

The crowd’s gaze follows immediately.

And they see, beyond the distant ten cities, at the southernmost point of the Gate of Fengdu in the extreme north, a figure dressed in white stands atop the fleshy barrier, looking icy cold.

"Roar!"

"Heh heh—"

"Eating... eating, so tasty..."

Beneath him, rotten ghost faces oozing pus with maggots crawling over them stretch out their necks, desperately trying to bite upwards.

But their bodies are held down so firmly, they cannot move at all.

The gloom and stench fail to reach the sanctity of the white-clothed figure above.

Bazhun’an stands within the Yin Cao, blooming unstained from the muck, untainted by dust.

"Insolent!"

An obese, bloated monster in the coffin of the pallbearer gives a piercing shout.

With a fleshy hand that seems to squeeze out green grease at a pinch, it pulls from its crotch a giant black brush, pointing it forward:

"I am the judge of the Yin Cao, summoning you to the capital to meet the Lord. This is a Divine Oracle, how dare you not comply?"

The blood-red fluffy bristles at the tip of the judge’s brush press against the space in front, forming a complex Dao principle Upanishad array diagram.

The diagram rotates, transforming into a giant ancient script for "death," blasting into infinite power waves that forcefully push toward the land within the ten cities.

"How dare you not comply—"

"Dare not comply—"

"Not comply—"

With a resounding echo, those in the Yin Cao crack apart as soul blood flies everywhere amidst their endless screams.

Meanwhile, the countless Yin ghosts pressed against the fleshy barrier also break and bleed as the wave of "death" advances.

The ten cities of the Yin Cao, force penetrates north and south.

In an instant, the blood word punctures spacetime from the judge’s brush, darting forward to Bazhun’an’s face.

Before the force arrives, it has already lifted his white clothes and black hair, ripping through thousands of miles of space behind.

"Comply?"

Bazhun’an lifts his eyelids, a chill gleaming in his eyes.

No visible action can be seen from him, yet the intangible wave of force stops strongly in front of him at a single word, congealing into the character "death."

"In heaven and earth, I dare call myself supreme in both the Yang Realm and the Underworld."

"And who might you be as a judge, empowered by who, to bark like a dog here!"

Thud.

Ripples arise beneath his feet.

Bazhun’an steps forward once, hands still clasped behind his back.

He treats that "death" character as nothing, for when it meets the Upanishad power on his chest, it ripples once.

And shatters instantly!

As if cut down by an invisible sword cognition, the surging power doesn’t even explode but is completely absorbed into Bazhun’an’s body.

Following the drop of his icy voice, Bazhun’an takes another step forward, leaving only shadows in his wake.

Eyes retract, as do those moving along one city.

He’s entered a city!

"Insolence, such insolence..."

The obese judge in the coffin jumps up suddenly, as if no ghost here has ever dared defy its will.

Immediately, the giant judge’s brush in its hand dances continuously, spitting and shouting curses frenziedly:

"Outsiders in the Yin Cao, lowly visitors from the Yang Realm, invited by Divine Oracles, making respectful visits to the Lord, yet now not only do they not comply, they spout madness..."

"Annoying."

Bazhun’an raises a sleeve, pointing out with a finger.

Bang!

A sudden black line tears through the sky above the ten cities of the Yin Cao.

The thundering wind and sonic boom explode as the distant obese judge’s figure petrifies on the coffin, its crooked crown has been shot to pieces, together with much of its skull.

Green, greasy blood and brain matter spray up, running over its forehead, eyelids, and fleshy cheeks, filling its face within a blink.

The fat-headed monster freezes, as if no ghost in its world ever dared to lay hands on it.

So much so that it forgets momentarily whether to react with anger or counterattack first.

"A monkey in a crown, making a fool of oneself."

"Go back and tell Hua Changdeng, either come meet me himself or today this divine palace in the Yin Cao..."

Bazhun’an pauses, icy blue gathers in his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the filthy ten cities, with a red mark forming at his brow, "even dogs and chickens won’t rest."

Clearly, his words go unheeded by any of the ghosts.

"Judge!"

"Judge of Death?!"

On the ten city halls, the eyes of the ten hall Yamas widen urgently.

Even the black and white twin disasters holding the scythe and opening the Gate of Fengdu edge closer to the judge.

"Ah..."

The obese judge lets out a sharp cry, as if in haste, angered, or completely provoked.

Its pudgy hands sweep over its head like brushing bangs, as its shattered skull regenerates immediately, the wound healing as good as new.