In the Nine Netherworld, the wails of ghosts echoed, yin winds gusted, and the Yellow Springs surged.
Qing He and Chen Ye were escorted at the very front, followed by a procession of souls. They were all the unlucky ones who had been swallowed whole on the shores of the North Sea. Each had possessed considerable cultivation in life, and most had been renowned Great Cultivators who dominated their own regions.
But as the Chief Judge had said, it didn't matter who you were in life. Once you arrived in the Underworld, everyone was treated the same—be you a True Immortal or a mere mortal.
Arriving before the City of Unjust Death, Qing He and Chen Ye cautiously sized it up. The city walls soared into the clouds, and every single stone block emanated a faint, ghostly light.
The city gates were wide open, flanked by Ghost Soldiers who stood with their chests puffed out, heads held high. Each one projected an extraordinary, menacing aura, looking utterly imposing.
