Chapter 0504: Eight Gates Locking Gold

Once the battle formation was established—an ominous phenomenon emerged!

The Eight Gates Locking Gold Formation—this was no ordinary formation, but a supreme battlefield array evolved from the ancient Eight Trigrams. Back when choosing a reward at the World Martial Arts Tournament, this very formation had been selected precisely because of its extraordinary value. In the chaos of war, it could turn the tides of fate.

More importantly, it wasn't limited to a single instance—it could be replicated into ten, even a hundred formations.

Though lacking a complete formation diagram reduced its overall power, even in its incomplete state, it remained terrifyingly potent—truly a divine weapon of war.

"A battle formation? Hah! I don't believe that just two or three thousand people, plus some ridiculous formation, can stand against my army of several hundred thousand! Not to mention the undead army! Even if it's a battle formation, I'll break through and crush it!"

A cold light flashed in Gou Buli's eyes. While he admitted the formation might be powerful, he didn't believe that such a small force could deploy one strong enough to matter. In his eyes, it was nothing but a paper tiger, destined to collapse beneath the weight of his army.

Crushed into dust.

RUMBLE—!

At the front of the charge were the eerie and terrifying skeletal undead. These skeletons bore dog-headed features, resembling dog-headed kobolds, their skulls unmistakably canine. Clearly, Gou Buli was wary of the legendary formation. No one dared take such things lightly, so he sent in undead scouts—expendable and safe, even if he lost a few.

The Eight Gates Locking Gold Formation activated—its misty veil shrouded the eight gates, which opened simultaneously.

Even more bizarrely, the gates shifted positions constantly—what was the Gate of Rest a moment ago might become the Gate of Hurt the next. With such rapid changes, it was impossible to discern the true layout of the formation during battle.

Two soldiers entering from the same direction might emerge in completely different gates.

Their fates would also be vastly different.

Tens of thousands of undead skeletons charged toward the Eight Gates Locking Gold Formation.

Upon entering the mist, they were mysteriously drawn to the eight entrances by some unseen force.

These gates resembled monstrous beasts, each ready to devour intruders. A sense of dreadful fear settled over all who approached.

The undead hesitated not. They marched straight in—and vanished.

Without a trace.

No sound. No sign of struggle. No hint of battle. Just silence.

"What is this formation? How could tens of thousands of undead just disappear like that? There are only two or three thousand humans inside—how is there no reaction at all?"

"So strange. So eerie. Truly impossible to read. I've heard before that battle formations are strange and deadly—some unify the power of the entire army into one spirit, becoming unstoppable; others are based on illusions, mazes, and killing traps. But the risk lies in the reliance on the soldiers themselves. If any link breaks, the whole formation can collapse."

"But such formations also have strengths—unlike lifeless formation bases, real warriors are flexible, adaptable. They can react to changes on the battlefield and draw out the formation's true power."

"The Eight Gates Locking Gold Formation clearly belongs to the latter kind. But it's so quiet—tens of thousands of undead entered, and there isn't a ripple. That's… terrifying."

Surrounding alien tribes grew solemn at the sight.

The formation did not budge. It did not crack.

This meant it was truly formidable.

"This formation isolates the inside from the outside."

Gou Buli's face darkened.

Once the undead entered, he lost contact with them. He could no longer sense or control them. It was as if they'd been cut off entirely.

One quarter-hour passed—and still no change.

No change could only mean one of two things: the undead were either completely annihilated or… the humans inside were barely holding on, and the silence was just a bluff.

Either possibility had vastly different implications.

Now came the decision.

Enter—or retreat?

Not entering meant the entire assault had been wasted—massive casualties for no result. But entering meant facing the unknown horrors of the formation.

But Gou Buli wasn't the hesitant type. This was war—war allowed no hesitation.

Before the eyes of all, retreating without a fight would bring disgrace to the kobold race. Their reputation would be ruined.

"Attack!"

That was his final decision.

No matter what, he could not retreat now. Not in front of so many witnesses. Otherwise, his entire race would become the laughingstock of the alien tribes.

"Advance! If we don't shatter this formation, we do not retreat!"

With a roar, Gou Buli brandished his scythe and stepped into the white mist, walking straight toward one of the gates—the Gate of Hurt.

The moment he entered, the world changed.

Before him, the mist parted, revealing a long road.

It exuded death—an intense, suffocating killing aura lingered in the air. The road was desolate, the fog on either side thick and mysterious.

"No sign of the skeletons. They all disappeared in a flash. This formation is definitely no joke."

Gou Buli's expression turned grim.

He reached into his storage pouch, retrieved a dead wild boar, and hurled it into the fog on either side.

The result was instantaneous and terrifying.

From the mist, golden chains shot out like lightning, piercing the corpse, then tearing it apart. Within the chains surged lightning, fire, frost, and more.

In moments, the entire boar was obliterated—vanished without a trace.

"Interesting. Truly formidable. This formation is no illusion. The fog conceals deadly power—falling into it is death."

Gou Buli narrowed his eyes.

He realized: the only path was forward. The mist on either side spelled death. Retreat was impossible. Only by advancing might there be hope.

"Chieftain!"

Behind him, more kobold warriors followed, gazing nervously at the strange scene ahead.

"Take a hundred warriors and charge ahead."

Gou Buli's voice was cold.

This was a test by blood.

Without hesitation, a hundred elite kobolds surged forward, stepping onto the road.

At first, nothing happened.

But soon—

"Ah! What is that? Stay away!"

"Damn it! You scared me—I'll kill you!"

The warriors suddenly screamed—then roared in fury—as though trapped in horrific hallucinations.

Then they turned on each other.

Blades swung. Blood sprayed.

Within moments, all hundred lay dead—slain by their own hands.

And then, their bodies… sank into the earth, vanishing.

If not witnessed firsthand, one would never believe it.

"Illusions? Or some kind of spiritual attack? Something confused their minds—showed them fearsome visions, trapping them in a hallucination where they slaughtered each other."

Gou Buli drew a sharp breath, the horror of the formation now fully dawning on him.