Chapter 188: Isolated and Unassisted

"No!" Ming Kong's junior sister suddenly leapt up, the clean bottle in her hand aimed at the souls about to fade: "These wandering souls belong in my Western Sect…"

The words were cut off, an ox‑headed ghost officer brandished a steel fork, drawing the last strand of lingering soul into the soul‑refining pot at his waist.

Before the Six Realms of Reincarnation Gate, a sudden chill wind halted, leaving only three hundred gold‑robed cultivators standing dumbly in the breeze. The Venerable Ksitigarbha gazed at the empty Netherworld, the bodhi seed in his hand cracking with a "snap" into fine lines; this thousand‑year scheme to ferry souls had been defeated by the most routine bureaucratic procedure of the underworld.

Deep within the underworld's Netherworld, the entrance to the Six Realms of Reincarnation was surrounded by chanting Sanskrit tones.

A disciple of the Western Sect held a rosary, transmuting wandering souls; as golden light swirled, the power of merit continuously condensed.

Leading the ox‑headed Wu Clan, they shattered the dark mist as they came, the black‑iron chains clinking against their bluish‑gray skin.

"Do you truly intend to cut off others' opportunities for cultivation?" the yellow‑garmented disciple clenched the scripture in his hand, his kasaya fluttering without wind.

The ox‑head exhaled nether fire from his nostrils, the bronze nose ring glowing faintly: "Netherworld Regulation Article 3,600 stipulates that all wandering ghosts are to be handled by the underworld." The mourning staff at his waist suddenly elongated three zhang, instantly snatching the soul just cloaked in Buddha's light.

Ksitigarbha lowered his gaze, turning the sandalwood prayer beads; eighteen relic beads lit up in succession: "The Six Realms of Reincarnation are the nexus of the three realms; how can they be the private property of the Wu Clan?"

"Ridiculous!" the horse‑faced stepped out from the ranks of the underworld soldiers, his iron hooves crushing the Buddha motifs on the ground, "Since the Lady Hou Tu herself became the wheel of reincarnation, when will this Netherworld ever get a bald donkey to point and meddle?" The soul‑snaring rope transformed into countless silver serpents, gathering all wandering souls within a hundred‑zhang radius.

The Western Sect's disciples were so angry that the Buddha's light flickered erratically, some of them kneading their finger positions until their knuckles turned white.

Ksitigarbha suddenly chuckled, an eight‑treasure glazed cup appearing in his palm: "Since this place is inconvenient, why not seek another sanctuary?"

Where the sweet dew from the cup fell, a golden lotus pond unexpectedly blossomed on the banks of the Wangchuan River.

Unexpectedly, at the third watch the drum sounded, and the ox‑head horse‑faced, accompanied by underworld soldiers, rode the waves toward them.

The mourning staff shattered the death‑chant inscription, the soul‑snaring rope pierced the golden lotus of merit, even the newly enlightened revenant was dragged into the Wangchuan vortex.

The Western disciples stared dumbfounded, watching three days of arduous effort dissolve into bubbles.

"This is the Netherworld Soul‑Capture Decree!" the ox‑head tossed the white‑bone beast token into the Wangchuan, stirring a hundred‑zhang black wave, "As long as the three souls and seven spirits remain in the Netherworld, even if you hide beneath the Bridge of Helplessness."

The horse‑faced sneered, the iron chain crushing the shore's spider‑lily, "You still can't escape the soul‑binding rope!"

Ksitigarbha remained composed, leading his disciples to another location to continue ferrying the dead. Yet the underworld's ox‑head horse‑faced guards were like maggots on bone; wherever the sect went, this iron‑clad unit clung to them like a shadow.

Anyone with clear eyes could see the underworld deliberately obstructing, yet the sect's disciples never understood why the Venerable remained calm in the face of such provocation.

Whenever the clanking of iron chains grew nearer, Ksitigarbha led his followers back several li from the Reincarnation Platform; this continual retreat sparked hidden resentment in many disciples.

This incursion by the Western Sect was a long‑planned move to erase past humiliation; at first, ferrying souls at the Reincarnation entrance went smoothly, allowing them to accumulate merit and curb the Wu Clan's vigor.

Who could have foreseen the underworld would unleash a killing maneuver of patrolling soldiers, not only putting the Western Sect in a dilemma but also scattering their meticulous plans.

If they clash head‑on, the Wu Clan claims the righteous cause of preserving underworld order; if they stand down, they cannot relinquish the easily grasped opportunities for merit.

Amid this back‑and‑forth tug‑of‑war, no one noticed they were drifting farther from the Reincarnation Core.

At this moment, a cold edge appeared at Ksitigarbha's mouth, and when he lifted his eyes toward the relentless underworld soldiers, a flash of icy light glimmered in his pupils.

In an instant, the heavens roiled; several black silhouettes shrouded in demonic aura burst through the clouds, plunging straight at the ox‑head horse‑faced.

"The Wu Clan's lackeys are here! Boys, attack!"

Amid thunderous battle cries, hundreds of elite Demon Race warriors materialized. The ancient rivals glared at each other, and in a blink the area beyond the Reincarnation Platform turned into a battlefield of Asuras.

Ksitigarbha covertly ordered his disciples to hold position; the demon horde indeed swept past the sect, clashing directly with the Wu Clan's underworld soldiers.

The ox‑head dark commander brandished his steel fork and shouted, "Perfect timing, let these hair‑clad beasts witness the power of the Reincarnation Platform."

Before his words finished, two torrents collided with a roar, a millennium of grudges exploding at that moment.

On the Netherworld battlefield, the Wu Clan's top combat force was no higher than Golden Immortal level; not even a Great Witch capable of condensing ancestral witch techniques appeared.

Conversely, beneath the heavens, demon clouds churned, and over a dozen Great Luo Golden Immortals' law‑light pillars pierced the sky, their imposing pressure causing ripples in space.

As the two armies faced off, the Western Sect's disciples suddenly showed a subtle, enlightened expression. Watching the Wu Clan's battle array beat the war drums first, they suddenly realized that Venerable Ksitigarbha had been yielding step by step to the ox‑head horse‑faced.

It turned out to be a strategically deep plan; those seemingly cowardly retreats were actually luring the Wu Clan's elite out of the protective zone of the Six Realms of Reincarnation.

At this moment the battlefield lay a thousand li from the Reincarnation Core; even with Wu Clan reinforcements deep in the underworld, they could not arrive before the Demon Race's sword formation closed in.

More subtly, all the killing here was carried out by the Demon Race; even if the ancestral witch later raged, the karmic threads would only entangle the rival Demon Race.

The blood feud between the Wu and Demon races has been a destiny etched into the laws of heaven and earth since the dawn of Honghuang.

The golden‑bodied Arhats watching the battle could not hide their delight; they seemed to foresee the future: if the Wu Clan painfully retreats into the underworld, the Buddha's light that ferries wronged souls will flow freely; if the Wu Clan presses on, the Demon Race's sharp blades will repeatedly reap like a festering wound. No matter how the game evolves, the authority of the Six Realms of Reincarnation will eventually be stained with the Western Sect's gilt Sanskrit.

Ksitigarbha, in his dharma form, sat upon a lotus platform, his gaze piercing the battlefield smoke. The prayer beads in his hand spun with karmic force; what seemed a random skirmish was actually the optimal solution selected from nine hundred simulations.

The moment the ox‑head horse‑faced stepped out of the Reincarnation boundary, the game using heaven and earth as a board had already determined its winner and loser.

The instant the Demon Race's fierce soldiers tore through the Wu Clan's battle formation, the mandala pattern on Ksitigarbha's robe glowed faintly; the guardian of the Six Realms of Reincarnation had ultimately fallen into the karmic net.

The greatest question in Ksitigarbha's mind was how the mysterious leader who holds authority over the Human Race would break the deadlock.

Whether they will watch coldly as the Wu Clan perishes, or lead the Netherworld's elite in a full‑scale sortie?

Whatever the opponent chooses, he has already prepared a countermeasure; after all, a few underworld officials' lives are far insufficient to fill his scheme.

The Demon Race's elite appeared in an instant, and the Wu Clan troops deep in the Nine Abysses already sensed the shift. Zhou Yi stared at the swirling demon clouds in the water mirror, lightly tapping the desk with his fingertip: "The Western Pure Land is actually colluding with the Demon Race?"

"Boys, follow me into battle!" Yu Qiang, the ancestral witch, raised his arm and shouted, frost crystallizing between his joints.

The murderous intent inherited in the bloodline of the Twelve Ancestral Witches boiled, the blood feud between the Wu and Demon races, spanning from the Honghuang era to the present, has always been settled only with blood and fire.

Zhou Yi did not block this vengeance‑driven clan; instead, he watched with keen interest.

The ox‑head underworld officials wandering the Yellow Springs Road may seem isolated and unsupported, but the true decisive move remains hidden beyond the mist.