Zhou Fan stood proudly before the Netherworld King's Hall, ignoring the skirmishes around him. He raised his left hand, placed it gently on the massive iron gates, and with a light push, they swung open to both sides.
The moment the hall doors opened, everyone inside snapped their gazes over. They stared at the figure standing in the entrance—a man they once knew all too well, a man with whom each of them had crossed paths, for better or worse, but who was now their mortal enemy. Even Blood Evil and Netherworld, not to mention Ye Fei and Zhao Ya, subconsciously shot to their feet.
The sun was just then beginning to rise, cresting the horizon behind Zhou Fan. Warm sunlight washed over him, causing his shadow to instantly stretch out to several times its normal length.
Due to the light and the angle, everyone knew the man was Zhou Fan, but they were unable to make out the expression on his face.
