Rise of the Otherworld.

In the terrifying illusion created by the strange fog, everyone's hearts fell into extreme struggle. Before Zhang Hao's eyes, those enemies he had once defeated but "resurrected from the dead" were all baring their fangs and claws, rushing towards him with endless hatred. Their faces were distorted, and their eyes were full of rage, as if they wanted to devour Zhang Hao alive. Zhang Hao's heartbeat accelerated rapidly, each beat like a hammer hitting a drum, making his chest feel stuffy. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, running across his tense cheeks, gathering at his chin in drops, and falling to the ground. However, his inner determination made him strive to stay awake. He bit his lower lip so hard that a trickle of blood seeped out.

"This isn't real! I won't be defeated by you!" Zhang Hao roared, his voice echoing through the mist, yet it felt so weak. He swung his sword at the illusions, the blade slicing through the air, stirring up a gust of wind. Though the blade had no effect on the illusions, his eyes remained filled with defiance. Every swing of his sword was a declaration of war against fear, and every determined look was a testament to his self-righteousness.

The black-robed figure was horrified by the devastation wrought by his own uncontrolled magic. Countless innocents wailed in agony before him, blaming him for their sins. Those desperate faces, those piercing cries, were like sharp blades, piercing his soul. He clutched his head in agony, his body trembling. "No, this isn't my fault. I can make amends!" his voice filled with regret and struggle. His eyes were bloodshot, tears welling in his sockets, yet he fought to hold them back. The pain in his heart felt like a huge rock pressing down on his chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

The old man faced a lifetime of regrets, an unfinished mission, and missed opportunities. His eyes were filled with helplessness and pain. Those missed moments flashed before his eyes like an unstoppable tragic film. He gripped his staff tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain, and muttered to himself, "I still have a chance. I can't give up now!" His voice was low and hoarse, but it carried an unquestionable determination, as if it was a cry from the depths of his soul.

The herbalist watched the patients who had passed away because he was unable to treat them, tears blurring his eyes. Their anguished expressions, their despair at their ultimately shattered longing for life, were like a thousand arrows piercing his heart, leaving him with anguish he wished he were dead. "I should have been stronger, I could have saved you!" His heart was filled with self-blame and doubt in his own abilities. His body trembled slightly, as if he would collapse at any moment, but a glimmer of hope within him, like a spark of hope, kept him from being consumed by despair.

Witnessing the agonizing scene of lost loved ones, the woman's heart ached, tears breaking. "Dad, Mom, I miss you so much!" She was nearly consumed by the painful memories, her body involuntarily lunging forward, as if trying to grasp at the vanishing warmth. Her hands flailing wildly in the air, grasping for a shred of comfort, only to be met with cold mist in response to her despair.

Just when everyone was about to be defeated by the illusion, Zhang Hao suddenly shouted: "We can't be controlled by these illusions. We must believe in ourselves and believe in everything we have experienced together!" His voice was like a thunder, exploding in everyone's ears, dispelling some of the haze lingering in their hearts.

His face flushed crimson with excitement, his eyes burning with an unyielding fire. That fire seemed infectious, causing the black-robed man to slowly raise his head, his eyes gradually regaining a hint of clarity. He lowered his hands from clasping his head, slowly stood up, took a deep breath, and began to gather the scattered strength within him.

The old man was also inspired, straightening his back. His gaze became firm, and those past regrets were no longer shackles that bound him, but instead motivated him to move forward. "That's right, we can't fail here!" he shouted, his voice filled with determination.

The herbalist wiped away his tears and tightened his grip on the dagger. "We can definitely get out of this!" His voice was still trembling, but his courage was evident.

The woman stopped crying, her eyes becoming determined. "Let's get out of here together!" She gritted her teeth, a glimmer of hope rekindled in her eyes.

"Let's break through this fog together!" Zhang Hao shouted again. He brandished his sword and took the lead in walking deeper into the fog.

Everyone looked at each other, finding strength and courage in their eyes. They began to concentrate, resisting the erosion of illusions. Zhang Hao continued to silently recite his faith in his heart, and the sword in his hand emitted a faint light. Although the light was weak, it was like a beacon in the darkness, guiding everyone's direction.

The black-robed figure adjusted his breathing and refocused his magical energy, attempting to dispel the surrounding fog. His hands danced, muttering something, and beams of magical light shot out from his hands, colliding with the fog and making a sizzling sound.

The old man closed his eyes tightly, recalling past victories and glories, strengthening his will. His heart gradually calmed down, and the light on his staff became steady and bright.

The herbalist and the woman held hands, offering each other warmth and support. They followed Zhang Hao step by step, moving forward cautiously.

As everyone worked hard, the illusion in the mist began to blur and the sinister laughter gradually weakened. But they did not dare to relax for a moment, because they knew that the real test was not over yet.

At this moment, a bright light suddenly appeared in the fog. Everyone looked in the direction of the light and saw a mysterious exit looming.

"That's the way out!" Zhang Hao shouted excitedly. He quickened his pace and ran towards the light.

The crowd mustered their last bit of strength and followed closely behind, their footsteps leaving deep marks in the mist, as if writing their unyielding will.

However, just as they were about to approach the exit, a strong resistance appeared and tried to push them back.

"We can't give up!" Zhang Hao shouted loudly and rushed forward with all his strength.

Everyone shouted in unison, fighting against this resistance together.

With their unremitting efforts, they finally broke through the resistance and reached the exit.

The moment they stepped out of the mist, the sun shone on them, warm and soft...