Just then, Jian Yu became quiet. With his back facing Xiao Li, a blade of wind flipped a few black strands of his high ponytail back. The side bangs that framed his smooth face swayed from side to side in a strange tranquility amidst the chaos.

While Xiao Li studied the young man, numerous people began to chant spells over the nearby immobilized corpses. A few cultivators rode their bright swords overhead, with their outer robes rippling like water. They watched Bing Wen effortlessly strike the veiled stranger high up into the air before Wei Sheng kicked him down to the ground. Clouds of dust permeated the high stadium seats before dissolving away. Despite the opaque cover, the mortals could nevertheless see blinks of shining metal ripple across the arena field below as it came to two gods against one.

Hearing the swirl of swords, Xiao Li swallowed. He bowed his head, with his low braided ponytail hanging over his broad shoulder. Why…did I ask about the Spirit Deprivation Voyage spell? He could still hear the huntress’ soft singing as she maintained the area-wide spell, never faltering once. There was a natural perfect harmony of Mei Ying and her magic. What happens to her should not concern me…

His breath halted, momentarily remembering the hazy figure from his mortal days. Long ago, there once was a young woman who had also shielded Xiao Li from harm…

“Even I do not know the exact details of its procedure.” Jian Yu admitted, without glancing back at the servant. “But every year, for centuries, the Song clan’s shamans make their spiritual voyages through the Netherworld to communicate, lead, or recall certain spirits. Usually, it is accompanied by a shamanic dance and the blood sacrifice of fowl; however, it seems that in this case, Mei Ying was in a desperate situation with no time to spare and used her own blood to activate the ritual instead.” He pondered for a second. “Only the best of head shamans though…are able to pass through the front gates of the Crimson Flower Palace for direct negotiations. The rest cannot.”

“Wait… But the deeper into the Crimson Flower Palace, the more dangerous it becomes for a mortal… What if Mei Ying’s soul is barred from leaving the Netherworld?”

No mortal who ventures into the Netherworld ever returns, unscathed. For the young woman to take up the challenge and try in recalling hundreds of souls? Impossible. Xiao Li was sure that not one shaman from the Mortal realm has ever tried that hefty and high-risk task. The Netherworld will not simply let her go without a condition or sinister trade.

“A Soul Bargain contract?” Jian Yu turned around, with eyes flashing red at Xiao Li. “If that ever happens, then, He better pray for a quick death then.” The skin-chilling expression was quick to shut the teenager up and lower his eyes to the ground.

“Th-This one understands.”

But why would the late head shaman pass the spells down to Mei Ying? While Xiao Li wondered this, with his head lowered, he shortly noticed that a large, heavy mass of shadow engulfed the ground that he was staring at. A frosty draft blew against his face, and his nostrils were stung by a foul, burning sensation of immense yin energy.

“Young Master, I…” Quickly, the juvenile looked up. He froze. His eyes mirrored the grotesque, flocking creatures that filled the skies.

Closer and closer, as the creatures flew down, the high-pitched screeches intensified. Jian Yu could see the rapidly enlarging black mass of wings and talons from overhead.

“Like I said before…” A quiet sneer moved through the Young Master’s lips as he unveiled the brilliant sword for the world to see. In a single sweep, the blade turned ash-black, matching its grip. “Watch over Mei Ying.” At the next second, the ominous blade burst into hot, red flames. “While I show Them their place.”

At once, Jian Yu transmuted into a blood-crimson blur that dispersed out of sight, leaving behind a few red maple leaves that fell onto the cement platform.

When the next whiff of wind caressed Xiao Li’s cheek, a series of bells began to jingle furiously from nearby. Turning to the huntress, Xiao Li froze at the violent ringing. Immediately, the colors of his face drained away as the silver bells that hung around the young woman’s whip-belt shuddered in wild display.

Before the servant could move, a golden bubble formed around the huntress in her all-white attire, with eyes remaining closed. Her legs were crossed in the Lotus position as she stayed seated. Right away, a beaming spell array developed from underneath her, spreading its brilliant veins across the pavement. Each line trickled its way to every imprisoned walking corpse that was strapped down by the hundreds of thick vines and red flowers.

“Young Miss!” Frantic, the adolescent tried to approach the isolative barrier—only to be shocked by beaming sparks. The sting was not serious, but the pain left behind was jarring to his demonic core. While down on one knee, his eyes warmed. “…It repels ghosts and demons.”

Of course, isn’t that why the Song clan was once among the most feared cultivation sects in the Mortal realm? They were one of the founders of not only ghost hunting but also demon exorcism.

While most sects prioritize on either sheer strength or mind, the fallen clan has indeed preserved its ancient roots of balance. Hence, it is why the Song cultivators still orally announce their number of magical formations, which is to give themselves a moment to compose their mind and protect the soul from any error.

On the other hand, if Jian Yu were here, a simple spell, like Mei Ying’s golden dome, would not have stood a chance.

“Magical Formation Two.” As the song came to a gradual end, Mei Ying had shifted through her sequence of spells. “Spirit Deprivation Voyage…” Soon, the red-and-gold scriptures that rotated around her turned blue-and-white, reflecting the Song clan colors. “Kaishi.”

Before long, Xiao Li found his answer. “To that old lady, it was either her…or the fall of the main cultivation world.”

❁❁❁

“WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE, MORTAL?!”

Eight tall, armored guards had already surrounded the young woman, dressed in a speckless all-white outer robe, with long shining glaives and black tassels. In a perfect circle, each step that Mei Ying took forward, the men and women glared at her and followed diligently. Their red-and-black scaley armor sheened under the ruby light that shone throughout the cold hall.

Still, it was odd. Not one blade punctured the maiden.

Mei Ying’s eyes scanned up and past over the long, red carpet trail that led all the way up to the high golden double doors. It was magnificent to say the least. Moreover, the carpet was intricately woven with threads of demonic scriptures, flowers, and a dozen other unnamed materials, foreign to the Mortal realm.

Ah, didn’t standard manual guide of righteous cultivators state the Netherworld is a dark, terrifying world of gray buildings that oozes nothing but human blood, screams, and smelly objects?

Contrary to the Heavenly path teachings, the little disciple was puzzled that the Netherworld was not the least ugly at all. Even the atmosphere held a faint floral aroma, much like autumn-ripe chrysanthemums.

The female guard who inquired Mei Ying—could not look away from the stranger's familiar crimson floral mark. Her right eye twitched slightly as the peerless woman searched around the expansive wine-red room with gem-like flooring and high gold ceiling. The intruder also had long, black hair that billowed back into the air like silk, skin as smooth and white as nephrite jade, and bright eyes like sparkling orange topaz.

She was beautiful but potentially dangerous. More than just that, she was an uninvited guest—and a powerful mortal spirit.

“STOP!” commanded the female guard. Though she seemed stoic, her fingers were trembling slightly. “You cannot proceed to the First Judge’s court!”

Soon, Mei Ying halted in her tracks. There was a sigh from the semi-transparent woman.

Glancing over her shoulder, the huntress spotted the hole that she made in an oiled-paper window when she had opened her eyes and found herself already hurled thorough it.

Nian Zu, can you help correct my sloppy work? Mei Ying could never openly admit her embarrassing habits, but the senior hunter was right that it was becoming too much. Hell, she even made holes in her sleep! Li Qin had really spoiled me…

But the demon king is also the Netherworld god… The maiden quietly admired her work. I’m sure that he is loaded with lots of merits. One window is nothing.

Despite thinking this, the young woman smiled sheepishly and clasped her two hands together, pleading at the guards, “Sorry about that window. It’s my first time, using this spell… I actually came on this Spirit Deprivation Voyage to seek an audience with your First Judge of the Netherworld… ”

Silence fell over everyone.

The eight Netherworld guards glanced at one another. One of them coughed and cleared their throat at the stern-faced woman who had stopped Mei Ying. Regardless, they did not withdraw their gleaming glaives at all.

“It was the spirit’s first time…using that spell, and, yet she made it this far already?” whispered one of the men. “She’s not even a head shaman…”

Hisses zipped between the eight guards, along with slight head nods and shakes.

Curious, Mei Ying watched the intriguing interactions, raising or narrowing her brows as she saw fit. She stood still, with eight glaives pointed toward her neck.

All of a sudden, the female guard stiffened. “L-Look at her finger!”

Instantly, the others' paled like ghosts.

“Wh-Why does she have...THAT?!” asked one of the men, quivering. Then, remembering Mei Ying, he inquired, “Hey, mortal, why do you have that on your right finger?”

“Oh!” Smiling, Mei Ying raised her hand for the Netherworld people to see. There was a single band of snow-white jade, decorated by tiny gold and crimson floral engravements. “This is a gift from my friend, Jian Jian…” Sensing the dread from them, the curve in her lips faltered a bit. “Is it…bad?”

The female guard cocked her head. Her expression was certainly peculiar, with eyes growing larger. “Jian…Jian—"

“NO, IT’S GOOD!” A guard stammered out, glancing across the circle and around at his comrades. “IT’S GOOD! RIGHT? RIGHT?” Everyone else nodded vigorously. “IT’S A BEAUTIFUL RING!”

Promptly, the stern-faced woman lowered her glaive. “Please excuse our earlier actions." The seven other guards did the same, sweating immensely under their scaley armor pieces. They nodded. "We will take you to see the First Judge right away!”

With four people behind Mei Ying and another four in front, the huntress found herself rushing every inch of the way up to the colossal doors of shining gold. Her little feet could barely keep pace with the guards, each trembling and looking more panicked than the last second. As soon as she turned her head to ask the woman a question—Mei Ying was already inside an even more cosmic-sized room than the previous one. The doors even shut behind her petite figure.

What...just happened? The huntress went to check the doors. She blinked. Instead, there was only a red stone wall behind her. Flanked on either side of Mei Ying were guards as well, both wearing the same uniform as the eight that escorted her. Except for that they were completely silent and staring straight ahead like statues, trapped in time.

As though the Netherworld has acknowledged her presence, the candles that lined around the vast court--lit up, one by one. It was rather disturbing. However, the huntress took a deep breath and found that at the end, there was an enormous man behind his gigantic desk of wood and gold. As she steadily walked up on the long red-carpet trail, the swirls of threads wheeled on and on beneath her boots, like snails groveling on earth. From one window, Mei Ying heard a few human screams and the lashes of whips. Out of another, there was clinking metal and the low creaks of old wheelbarrels, accompanied by sizzling steam.

At long last, while the titanic man remained focused on his ink and brush, stroke by stroke, Mei Ying found that her height only came up to the bare bottom of the desk. Her presence was quite tiny like a pebble to a sky-high tree.

“Yes?” asked the busy giant, dipping his brush into the jar of ink. He carefully continued his river of calligraphy on the extensive scroll. “I do not remember having guests over today in my court.”

For a second, Mei Ying was taken back by the Judge’s laxed demeanor. Her hands sweated. She fidgeted with the end of her broad white sleeves. Can First Judge even see me?

Without looking, the man spoke in a booming but monotonous voice, “If you are a lost soul, please proceed to walk back out, make a left turn, and another left. There is already a new line of souls that will need to wait for another minute before I get their Books of Life ready to be read out loud. Only then will the Mirror of Sin be played for you to watch, and I will give you your sentence or your next destination toward Reincarnation.”

First Judge’s voice was loud and clear, one that could fill the entire vast room. Yet it was unexpectedly gentle on the huntress’ ears.

Touching the cool jade ring around her finger, Mei Ying exhaled a breath and began, “First Judge, this one is not a soul at all. I am Song Mei Ying of the Song clan, and my spirit is here to clarify a misunderstanding due to the fault of cross-realm…affairs.”

“And…?”

“And are the souls from Huamei City’s Tian Shan Feng tournament—still here?”

“They are all waiting in line. There seems to be some trouble since their second souls have not yet joined the ancestors; hence, a very strange case. So, I sent some ghost guards out to First and Second Officials to…” First Judge stopped, setting down the brush.

Mei Ying waited, staring up at the ginormous desk. The monumental man had moved out of sight. Next, the chair that he had sat on—scooted back, causing the floor to shake. This caused the huntress to nearly lose her footing, but she remained vigilant and maintained her balance despite the wobbling tiles.

To Mei Ying’s surprise, the quaking ended, and a dazzling gold light swallowed the entire place. At the next second, there stood the large man, wearing a gorgeous black outer robe with wide gold-and-black sleeves and a matching sash. On his bald head was a tall, ornate hat with a large gold ornament of a glowering demon that seemed to drill through Mei Ying’s being.

Scrunching his thick brows together, the middle-aged Judge had shrunk himself down to human size and stood before the maiden. He tilted his head one way, then the other. It was like he had never seen a spirit before.

Quickly, Mei Ying lowered her head and was about to kneel down—“First Judge!”

“Stop.” Raising her head, the huntress was quiet when the man lifted his wide sleeve and rubbed his fingers onto his forehead. As if massaging his headache, First Judge sighed. “So, in this seventh lifetime…you are Song Mei Ying of the Song clan?”

“…Yes.”

“Just over a hundred years ago, the Song clan had fallen from the main cultivation world after losing one of the major Ghost War battles and caused the righteous cultivation sects to lose thousands of their strongest people; thus, the clan gave up all but one piece of land to the cultivation sects as heavy compensation.” There was a deep sigh. “They’re poor as f*ck, and you have shitty luck… What a match.”

Don’t bring my financial status into this, ah! Mei Ying wanted to groan.

With amusement, First Judge watched the spirit play with her white sleeves. His eyes were dark like pools of darkness. One corner of his lips shifted upward. “Already…in mourning clothes?"

"This is just what I like to wear." Mei Ying murmured, finding the floor to be interesting.

"Why...?" Like a berating uncle, the man shook his head and went on, “Anyway, I don’t expect you to remember a thing of the past seven-hundred-seventy-seven years, but this lifetime...and outfit of yours…has to be the strangest of all.”

Hurry, hurry… Mei Ying did not know what the person was babbling about. Hundreds of cultivators’ lives are hinging on whether I make or break this negotiation!

“Are you paying attention?” asked First Judge, hardening his voice.

“Yes, this one was paying attention!”

“Then, look at me."

Slowly, Mei Ying shifted her attention from the red gem-like floor...to the person in charge.

Crossing his arms, the man raised his chin. In the red light, First Judge’s face shrouded over in a seemingly sinister shade. His tall hat’s large demon-face ornament twinkled faintly. “Let's make a deal, Child of Red Omen."