Chapter 217: [Dragon Mountain] The Nightmare Rises

He walks along the long central walkway of the front hall of the Palace of Heaven, each brick and stone beneath his feet shining like thin ice, reflecting his silhouette.

Atsu. Atsu. Atsu.

One step at a time, the sound of empty footsteps echoed in the solitude of the great hall.

But Mo Ran is not alone, he is not alone, he is standing in the middle of the endless walkway of the front hall of the School of Confucianism, lined with people, men, women, old and young, faces of all kinds.

He stood in the middle, a small city, and to his left, the bodies of the School of Confucianism, of those who were sorry for Xu Shuanglin, became humble, lynched, cut up, put to death by various penalties, and then reborn, reborn and put to death. On the other hand, there was a lot of dancing and singing.

He even saw Luo Xianxian, which was not a real spirit, but the illusionary appearance of another corpse, manipulated by Blackie, just like Jin Chengchi's jiao people.

Luo Xianxian, her hair up in a bun, is with her husband Chen Bohuan, the two of them looking relaxed and at ease.

He also saw Chen's youngest daughter, sitting beside her brother and sister-in-law, laughing and talking to them. Luo Xianxian, on the other hand, is nestling against Chen Bohuan, covering her mouth with her sleeve when she hears something funny, and smiling brightly with arched eyebrows.

It was a beautiful and dreamy sight, but it sent a chill down Mo Ran's back.

He paced up and down this long walkway, half hell and half heaven, where good and evil were clearly divided, with laughter on his left and suffering on his right.

As he walked forward, he seemed to be walking through water and fire, light and shadow. He looked to his left and saw a hundred butterflies flying and flowers in profusion, a stream of water murmuring from behind a beam, in which was flowing clear, fresh wine.

He looked to his right, the cauldron boiling, the hot fire cooking, a writhing flesh poured with boiling oil, tongues plucked out and hearts pierced, people cursing and biting each other, a beastly cold glint in their eyes.

He also saw the former abbot of Temple of No Mercy, the old monk who had masterminded the Lingshan Mountain convention, surrounded by three men, each holding a small, rusty stewing knife, cutting his face, legs and brother, one after the other, the flesh quickly recovering, and so on, the old monk screaming incessantly but uttering nothing more than a meaningful snarl. The old monk was screaming incessantly, but all that came out was an unintelligible growl his tongue of disinformation had long since been torn out.

The further you go, the more unnerving Mo Ran becomes.

He didn't even want to look both ways, crying, laughing, angry, happy.

To the left a woman is softly chanting, "Life and death, a lonely cold life. A lover cannot call a lover should"

To the right, a woman is being torn by vicious dogs, whistling at the top of her voice.

Half of his afterglow saw light and half saw darkness, which were both so absolute, like the pieces on a chessboard, black and white against each other, good and evil clear.

Mo Ran just felt a headache.

He stood in the middle, he simply stopped and closed his eyes, unwilling to look at this scene where the nine heavens and purgatory mingle.

He stayed where he was, waiting for the hordes who were not as fast on their feet as he was to catch up.

"Falling leaves frighten the dreams of the wrecked, and the dust of leisurely walking counts the falling red"

"No don't do this to me again please help me help me"

But the sound on both sides was incessant, like an arrowhead into the wood.

He heard Luo Xianxian gently saying to her husband, "Chen Lang, the orange blossoms are in bloom in the courtyard, let me show you, okay?"

He heard Qin, the former head of Jiangdong Court, laughing like a madman: "Adultery hahahahaha, yes, I am adulterous with Nan Gongliu I am a slut, a whore, I am a, a poisonous woman I killed my husband, I want to be the head of the court hahahahaha, you all come and see my true face, see what an ugly bitch I am, ahahahahahaha"

Everything has been clouded together.

The living, the dead.

Real or illusionary

Is it black or white, is it good or evil

The sounds around him grew like a tidal wave, and as the tide rose and fell he seemed to see two giant dragons breaking out of the water, the moonlight shining on their cold, wet scales.

Are those two evil dragons?

No, those are two souls of their own.

The battle begins again, snarling, spitting dragon breath and biting hard as they collide.

The ground shakes.

Mo Ran couldn't stand the madness, he covered his ears, but he couldn't stop the noise twice, and finally he couldn't stand it any longer and he had to raise his hand to cast a spell of silence.

His eyes snapped open.

The scene around you disappears.

Mo Ran creepy.

He froze in place how the scene around him, how it all disappeared

Where he is

Why is it that everywhere is black, an infinite blackness

Was it an illusion set up by Xu Shuanglin?

Mo Ran looked around and there was nothing, all darkness.

He took a few steps and called out tentatively, "Master"

" Xue Meng "

"Is anyone coming?"

No one answered him, it was dark, deadly dark.

Even after seeing countless storms, such darkness was still terrifying. He walked forward, goose bumps on his arms, he walked forward

Suddenly, he saw a faint white light illuminated far ahead, which appeared to be the exit.

He headed for the place.

Suddenly figures appeared around him, a face not so clear, but he heard the murmurings of those who fell to their knees towards him in a tidal wave.

The men were chanting, their voices low, rumbling into a river

"To the Emperor Fairy Tramper, long life and prosperity."

Fairy Tramper Emperor

No no

He shuddered, he trembled, he shuddered, he ran forward as hard as he could, but it was as if millions of hands were coming from all sides to seize him.

"Your Majesty."

" Fairy Tramper for all generations."

"Longevity and prosperity are endless."

Mo Ran was driven into a frenzy as he tried to break away from the invisible hands and he ran towards the light: "No, it's not me, go away.

" Fairy Tramper "

Mo Ran began to think that Xu Shuanglin had gathered all the evil spirits in the ghost world and that they were all out to get him, a fugitive ghost, at this moment.

"Why does His Majesty want to go?"

"The emperor, the emperor."

Mo Ran stumbled on his feet, a wild, blazing light in his eyes. He wanted to leave, but all the spirits were trapping him, he was trapped, he had no way to hide, so he suddenly became furious, he turned his head in anger and suddenly drew his sword and swung it, cutting all those shadows into shattered darkness.

His face was like that of a wolf or a leopard, almost hideous.

"Get out," he roared, "all of you."

The words were followed by a grimace.

He heard someone around him murmuring and sniggering, "This seat"

"He said this seat to him is talking about this seat."

"Where are we wrong, emperor? You yourself should know in your heart who you are and where you come from, you cannot escape."

Mo Ran stepped back with her sword in her hand and shook her head, "No, no it's not that"

The black smoke that he had shredded gathered and took shape again, and a blurred shadow fell in front of him, approaching him with a single step.

The shadow said softly, "Not how"

"I am not a Fairy Tramper"

"How is it that you are not a Fairy Tramper," the voice was indistinct and soft, like thin smoke rising from a gauzy summer mantle, "of course you are, there is a reason for your wrong, only you, and you cannot escape."

"But it's over" Mo Ran stared at the black shadow, "It's over. Fairy Tramper is dead in front of the Tongtian Tower, it's not my business if he goes to the grave.

The shadow laughed softly, pistillate and delicate: "You're just what"

Mo Ran :""

"Are you just a returned soul," it asked, "just a body with a memory? Are you just an innocent being living in the shadow of the Fairy Tramper or are you just a dream?"

If there had been anger and fear earlier, Mo Ran's emotions were like ice and the blood froze around his body at those words.

He was almost a little bewildered, not responding, and he stammered to speak, but he couldn't get a full sentence out for half a day, and then he opened his mouth, and his voice was squeaky, and he dug his throat out only one broken word: "Dream"

"You keep thinking you've been reborn, but who can say if what you think is necessarily true is it you or me that's real at this moment" The fuzzy smoke circled around him, growing clearer and clearer, "You say you died under the Tongtian Tower, but you're clearly standing here alive now. Are you really dead?"

Mo Ran stared at the cloud of black smoke.

He no longer trembled; he only felt cold, like falling into an ice cave, a foot in the abyss of ten thousand feet.

So cold.

Is he really dead?

The chill of Wushan Palace still seems to be in the marrow of his bones as the fires of the ten sects rise up like long snakes hissing and slithering from the foot of the mountain to bite his neck off.

Xue Meng seemed to be standing before him just now, with nothing, with tears in his eyes, saying without fail, " Mo Ran, give me back my master, my master."

Is he really dead?

He remembers taking it, and the poison pierced his heart and lungs as he staggered to the Tongtian Tower and, with his last strength, crawled into the dug mound and lay in the coffin.

The begonias are in gentle bloom, lightly fragrant, with the sky and clouds lingering together.

He closes his eyes

"And then you open your eyes. You go back to the year you were sixteen, to the time when everything was still redeemable, right"

The dark figure murmured with a low laugh as if it could read his mind.

"You are back, the top of death and life has not been destroyed, the School of Confucianism has been scorched for the second time but not by you, Ye Wangxi is not dead, neither is Shi Mingjing, you have seen your own mind, you have fallen in love with Chu Wanning, you have become the Master of Mo and he has finally accepted you, you thought you were free. Now you are the head of the righteous army, the head of Qingzheng Dao, the young hero of the generation who is on the mountain to bring down Xu Shuanglin, the leader of the bullies."

A few moments of dead silence.

The veins in Mo Ran's neck shrugged in sudden bursts, along with a fierce heartbeat.

The dark figure had no face, but it was looming over him, and he knew it was looming over him.

"You're thinking good thoughts."

Cold swords pierce the heart and fangs pierce the neck.

Mo Ran could hear the despair spreading through him, spreading like a toxin, spreading like the deadly poison he had taken at the age of thirty-two, soaking into his liver and gallbladder and into his heart

"You are not reborn at all, all dead, all dead, Xue Meng is alive but he hates you." The dark figure said, "Now that the dream is awake, open your eyes, Fairy Tramper, you, who are still the Lord of Darkness."

"No" Mo Ran heard someone speak, a voice so feeble and broken that it seemed to have been broken and glued back together a million times, and then he was surprised to find that the person who had uttered it was actually himself, "No."

He drove the courage from every inch of his bones and every drop of his blood, and his eyes were open with the madness of a drum

"You're lying. Never, never, never."

He gathered his sword and swung it, panting furiously.

The cloud of black smoke dissipated again.

But its voice did not dissipate, it was laughing in a low voice: "Lying but sire, why don't you look down and see what it is that you are holding in your hand"