Rise of the Otherworld.

After the mysterious being waved his hand, terrifying trials ensued. In the endless darkness, meteorites rained down like a torrential rain, each one carrying the power of destruction. Zhang Hao wielded his sword, its blade gleaming coldly under the starlight. He gritted his teeth and shattered the approaching meteorites. Sparks flew like brilliant fireworks, but each impact left his arms numb. His eyes were firm and resolute, with no sign of retreat. Sweat streamed down his cheeks as he blended into the chaos.

The black-robed figure's magic shield crumbled under the impact of the meteorite. Veins bulged on his forehead as he desperately maintained his spell output. "Everyone, hold on!" he cried, a hint of fatigue in his voice. His mana was rapidly depleting, and every attempt to maintain the shield left him feeling a wave of exhaustion. Yet, his eyes still burned with an unyielding fire. His clothes rustled in the wind, as if they would be torn apart at any moment, yet his posture remained upright, like an unshakable mountain.

Drawing on his vast experience, the old man nimbly dodged the meteorites, directing them: "Left, right, avoid the big ones!" His voice was steady and resolute, bringing a sense of calm to the panicked crowd. Though his steps were slightly unsteady, each movement was perfectly timed, showcasing the wisdom and skill he had accumulated over the years. His eyes, sharp as an eagle's, fixed on the rapidly falling meteorites, searching for the best escape route.

The herbalist and the woman clung to each other, fear in her eyes, but the herbalist held her hand tightly, giving her strength. They navigated the cracks in the meteorite, perilous as always. The herbalist's heartbeat raced, his breathing quickened, but he never let go of the woman's hand, determined to keep her safe. His gaze was filled with a resolute, protective determination, as if no danger in the world could separate them.

The meteorite attack had barely subsided when a violent storm swept in. The wind howled like ghosts and wolves, as if it was tearing their souls from their bodies. Their clothes rustled in the wind, and their bodies were pulled by the powerful force.

Zhang Hao thrust his sword into the ground, trying to steady himself, but the wind still tossed him around. "Hold on to each other! Don't get blown away!" he shouted. His muscles tensed, straining against the storm with all his might. The sword scratched the ground, leaving deep scars. His hair flew wildly in the gale, his face stung by the wind and sand, but his gaze remained steadfast, fixed squarely on the horizon.

The black-robed man's magic was ineffective in the storm, and he could only cling tightly to a nearby boulder. His knuckles turned white from the strain, and his body trembled in the wind, yet he refused to let go. He chanted incantations, trying to muster his magical strength to resist the violent forces of nature.

The old man, blinded by the wind, chanted a spell, attempting to cast a spell to withstand the storm. His voice was muffled by the roar of the wind, but his resolve grew stronger, determined to create a glimmer of hope for everyone. His staff trembled in the wind, but he held it tightly, constantly channeling his magical power into it.

The herbalist and the woman leaned against each other, like two fallen leaves drifting in the wind. The woman's hair danced wildly in the breeze, and she closed her eyes tightly, leaning on the herbalist's strength. The herbalist shielded her from the wind with his body, silently praying for the storm to pass. He felt the woman's trembling, and his courage grew stronger. No matter what, he would protect her.

After the storm, all sorts of bizarre monsters appeared in space. Some were enormous, towering like mountains, their every step causing the ground to tremble. Others were agile, elusive, ghostly figures, making their movements difficult to predict. They let out piercing roars and pounced on the crowd.

Zhang Hao was the first to confront a monster, his sword colliding with its claws, sending sparks flying. He dodged the monster's attack and, taking advantage of the situation, stabbed it in the eye. His movements were fluid, without a moment's hesitation, his eyes filled with battle fever. Each of his attacks was laced with the determination to kill, as if he were determined to annihilate the enemy before him.

The black-robed figure unleashed a powerful spell, a fusion of fire, frost, and lightning, blasting the monsters. The brilliant light of the spell illuminated the dark space, but the monsters didn't retreat easily, instead charging at them with even greater frenzy. His forehead was covered in sweat, and the excessive drain of mana left him feeling dizzy, but he gritted his teeth and persevered, casting spells.

The old man wielded his staff, sending beams of light blazing at the monsters, providing support to the group. His eyes were focused and calm, each strike carefully considered, striving for maximum effect. His breathing became increasingly rapid, but the staff in his hand remained steadfast, constantly creating opportunities for the group.

The herbalist pulled some special herbs from his pocket and threw them at the monster. The smoke from the herbs slowed the monster's movements. He took the opportunity to get behind the monster and stab it in the weak spot with his dagger. His movements were swift and decisive, and each strike was accurate.

The woman mustered her courage and stabbed the approaching monster with her dagger. Fear was no longer in her eyes, only determination and courage. She used all her strength in each attack. Her clothes were ripped by the monster's claws, but she didn't retreat. Instead, she became even more courageous.

Through round after round of trials, their physical and magical powers were nearly exhausted, but their resolve grew stronger. They held only one conviction: to survive the trials! They supported and trusted each other, fighting tenaciously through these endless hardships.

However, the test was far from over. Suddenly, a strange mist filled the air, and within it came a faint, eerie laugh. Everyone's nerves were once again on edge, unsure of what terrifying challenge would await them next.

Zhang Hao looked around vigilantly, gripping the sword tighter. "Everyone, be careful. This fog is unusual."

The man in black robe frowned and tried to use magic to disperse the fog, but the fog became thicker and thicker.

The old man whispered, "This is probably an illusion. Everyone, stay calm."

The herbalist and the woman huddled together, their eyes filled with tension.

Suddenly, from the mist emerged the scene everyone feared most. Zhang Hao saw his former enemy resurrected, the black-robed figure saw the devastation caused by his own lost magic, the old man saw the regrets of his life, the herbalist saw the patient he could not treat, and the woman saw the pain of losing a loved one.

"These are all illusions, don't be fooled!" Zhang Hao shouted loudly.

But the scenes were so real that they tortured their souls.

In this difficult time, can they maintain their inner clarity and overcome these trials?