After crossing over, he has no taboos among the zombies.

Chapter 1364

The moment the black shield battle platform crashed into the shimmering rift, the entire platform emitted a muffled thud as if it could not withstand the weight.

The corroded holes at the edges merged together, and the originally solid magic barrier resembled a cardboard shell riddled with wormholes, with black ash falling off in a rustling sound.

The next moment, the white light suddenly surged, so bright that people couldn't open their eyes.

The sounds of bubbling mud and roaring shadows vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, piercing sound, like countless needles scraping against my eardrums.

When everyone finally managed to open their eyes, they were all stunned.

They were in a circular space, surrounded by a black barrier that shone with a cold light, like a giant glass dome trapping them.

The inner wall of the barrier was covered with crimson lightning, arcs of electricity twisting and leaping, exploding into tiny plumes of black smoke upon landing, emitting a pungent sulfurous smell.

Beneath my feet were bluestone slabs engraved with strange patterns, with dark red marks seeping into the patterns. I didn’t know if it was blood or something else, but it felt sticky and unsettling to step on.

"Where is this?"

Zhao Xiaojia's voice trembled. Just as he was about to bend down and touch the patterns on the ground, Liu Yuer grabbed him.

"Don't touch it!" She held her silver sword horizontally in front of her, her gaze sweeping over the surroundings. "These patterns have an aura that attracts spirits."

Just then, two whooshing sounds rang out in succession.

A golden light burst forth from the left, and a bronze warship a hundred feet long rushed out. Its hull resembled a majestic mountain range, covered with ferocious Taotie patterns. The deck was as wide as a plaza, and dozens of cultivators stood on it, each with an aura as deep and profound as an abyss, the lowest of whom was at the Divine Bridge Realm.

Standing at the bow of the boat was an old man in a purple robe with white hair and beard, surrounded by a tangible pressure—he was actually a great cultivator of the Other Shore Realm. When his gaze swept over Qin He's side, he paused for only a moment before turning his head to stare intently at the barrier, showing no intention of exchanging words.

A black iron warship followed closely behind on the right. It was also a hundred feet long, with a tiger pattern embroidered on its sails. The sails were full of torn holes, and weapons were piled up crookedly on the deck. The cultivators were either sitting or standing, panting heavily, obviously having just experienced a fierce battle.

No one paid any attention to Qin He's side; they were all checking the damage to their warships and warily watching the surrounding barriers.

The two warships hovered steadily in mid-air. The old man in purple robes on the bronze warship glanced at Qin He and suddenly frowned.

The two warships hovered like two floating fortresses. The old man in purple robes on the bronze warship raised his hand and summoned a round bronze mirror. The mirror's light swept across the barrier and then disappeared. He then said in a deep voice, "Take your positions and prepare to break through the barrier."

The cultivators immediately dispersed, setting up magical artifacts along the edge of the deck, ignoring the five people on the Black Shield Platform, only occasionally casting a few surprised glances at them.

It's truly strange that a group of people at the Dao Palace Realm could make it this far.

Zhao Xiaojia leaned closer to Qin He and whispered, "Brother Wei, they are all very strong."

Each time Qin He spoke, he would look beyond the barrier, his eyes flashing with light before his brows furrowed, his gaze settling on Wu Gou.

Wu Gou was seen with his head down, his fingers gripping the hilt of his curved sword tightly, his knuckles white, seemingly lost in thought.

Before everyone could finish their conversation, the surrounding black barrier suddenly began to fade.

The once solid barrier dissipated like water vapor, and the outside scenery gradually became clear.

Everyone held their breath, and the moment they saw the scene outside, gasps of shock filled the air.

Outside the barrier stood a crowd of people, all dressed in uniform blue close-fitting clothes, with dragon-patterned jade pendants hanging from their waists—all members of the Long family.

They stood in neat rows, spears in hand, their tips still stained with blood. Many had tears in their sleeves and hems, clearly from recent fighting. Or, to be more precise, a massacre.

At the front stood several old men, their auras even more profound than the purple-robed elder on the bronze warship. Their cold gazes swept over the people inside the barrier, as if they were sizing up prey in a cage.

"These are... people from the Long family?" Zhao Xiaojia exclaimed. "Weren't they here to rescue the patriarch? Why do they look like this?"

Liu Yu'er suddenly turned pale and pointed to the bluestone slab under her feet: "Look at the pattern, and look at the layout outside... This is not a safe zone, this is an altar!"

Looking down, everyone discovered that the patterns on the bluestone slab, when connected, formed a massive blood-red array. The five corners of the array corresponded precisely to the five exit directions of the Netherworld Swamp they had just encountered.

And they were positioned at the very center of the formation.

"Oh no, a sacrifice... they're going to sacrifice us!" On the Xuan Tie warship, a cultivator suddenly screamed, "I've seen this kind of array in ancient books before; it's used to sacrifice evil creatures!"

The purple-robed elder's expression changed drastically. He waved his hand and summoned his natal magic weapon, a round bronze mirror. The mirror's light swept across the surroundings, and his expression grew increasingly grim.

At this moment, an elderly man with white hair stepped out from the Long family's procession; he was an elder of the Long family.

"Please do not panic."

The Dragon Clan elder's voice was calm, yet carried a chilling undertone: "Being able to cross the Netherworld Swamp means you are all excellent sacrifices, capable of helping our ancestor return to his peak. You should feel honored."

"A scam! It's all a scam!" the bearded cultivator roared, trying to rush out, but was bounced back by the barrier. "Is the Dragon family's so-called rescue just a way to capture us as sacrifices?!"

“That’s right.” The Dragon Clan elder nodded calmly. “Of the three thousand cultivators recruited, the weak ones were fed to the evil creatures in the Netherworld Swamp, and those who failed to enter the array have all been cleaned up. Now, only the elite among you remain.”

He raised his hand and waved it, and crimson lightning surged wildly within the barrier. The array beneath his feet began to glow, and a powerful suction force emanated from the array's core.

Zhou Shan's face turned deathly pale as he looked at Qin He: "Brother Wei, what do we do now?"

"So, the true colors have finally been revealed?" A cold glint flashed in Qin He's eyes. Demonic energy condensed at his fingertips as he quietly extended a wisp of demonic rune towards the array pattern beneath his feet.

The purple-robed elder on the bronze warship took the lead, and the bronze mirror burst forth with a golden light several feet long, slamming hard against the barrier.

The people on the Xuan Tie warship unleashed a battering ram, imbued with spiritual energy, and smashed it at the same spot.

With a deafening roar, the space trembled, and only a ripple appeared on the barrier, leaving not even a white mark.

Qin He seized the opportunity to inject demonic runes into the array diagram, but was repelled by a scorching force, and felt a stinging pain in his fingertips—this array diagram could actually erode demonic energy.

"boom!"

After the loud noise, a crack appeared in the barrier.

Before everyone could rejoice, the array suddenly burst forth with a blinding red light, locking everyone's figures firmly in place.

The white-haired steward's laughter rang out, tinged with an eerie fervor: "It's no use. This is a Saint-level formation personally set up by the Ancestor. None of you can escape!"