A surge of tangled emotions rose from deep within me. I could feel power accumulating—enough to make me stronger for a time, but without a solid foundation, there was no way forward. That’s why my strength had come to a standstill. Clenching my fists, frustrated, I glared at The Wraithlord.
"Can’t you just say what you mean?"
The Wraithlord laughed, crouching beside me and patting my shoulder.
"I could tell you directly, but if you figure it out yourself, it’ll be much better than anything I could say. Your foundation is far too weak—I’ve seen plenty like you, and none of them ever reach the peak. You’re lacking right now, but if you’re willing to start over, I have a way to make you much stronger."
I stood up. At that moment, John Chou seemed lost in thought. He raised a hand, and blood-red particles hovered at his fingertips. Gradually, the particles coalesced and grew, soon reaching the size of a fingernail.
A smile crept onto John Chou’s face, as if something had clicked. With a thought, the black skeleton standing nearby charged at him again. This time, John Chou didn’t dodge—he focused intently on the skeleton, his eyes slowly turning red.
With a sharp swish, John Chou passed straight through the skeleton the moment it lunged at him. The sight stunned me. The skeleton had a physical form, but inside it was just gathered ghost aura. In that instant, John Chou broke his ghost body down into pure ghost aura.
As he passed through the skeleton, his ghost essence reformed into a ghost body. The bloodbane power in his hand was injected completely into the skeleton’s ghost aura. Sure enough, the skeleton behind him stopped moving, its joints starting to tremble.
A series of sharp clicks echoed out as the skeleton collapsed, its black surface fading away and its ghost aura dissipating. John Chou smiled, watching the remains scatter, then closed his eyes in satisfaction. He looked exhausted and began to rest.
"Many people are born with perception and reflexes, but if you don’t hone them, they’ll never improve—and may even fade. It’s like two trees growing side by side: one grows slowly but roots deep, the other shoots up toward the sun but its roots are shallow. At first, the difference in height is obvious. But one day, the tree with deep roots grows thicker and stronger, while the shallow-rooted one stops growing and falls behind. Over time, the true difference becomes clear."
Now I understood why John Chou kept sparring with those skeletons. He was trying every possible way to improve his control over ghost aura, to sense the power within the skeletons, and to observe how ghost aura reacted during attacks and defenses. Eventually, he found the right method and managed to infuse his bloodbane power into a skeleton.
"Looks like this will take a while."
Just as I thought John Chou might try something else, he kept sparring with four skeletons. This time, he lasted another half hour before stopping.
I watched John Chou in surprise as he trained over and over—day after day. By the third day, he could withstand attacks from four skeletons all day without a scratch. On the fourth day, he increased the number to five.
He kept practicing, no longer using bloodbane power, relying only on his ghost aura to form a ghost body and fight the skeletons head-on.
A week passed quickly. After that, I never saw John Chou use bloodbane power again. It was as if he’d discovered something new—he seemed genuinely excited.
"Who do you want to watch next?"
The Wraithlord asked. Instantly, Yuna Ji’s mischievous grin popped into my mind. As one of the Ghost Sovereigns, I’d seen Yuna Ji fight many times. Her greatest strength wasn’t combat—though she was formidable—but compared to her other self, the difference was night and day. That other Yuna Ji, in my world, had already replaced the real one in death.
Now I finally understood: Yuna Ji’s power came from Abyssal Hell itself. Her innate ability to command skeletons was part of her instinctive battle gift. Most of those skeletons had been vicious in life, consumed by a fierce will to fight. That was how Yuna Ji managed to control them.
Yuna Ji’s greatest strength was her legion—the endless army of skeletons that could revive again and again. Most looked weak, except General Feather, but even the frailest could wear down their enemies, bit by bit, until death.
When I first learned that Wraithshade had died at Yuna Ji’s hands, I was shocked. But after seeing everything through Ethan Zhang’s memories, I finally understood. Wraithshade had devoured over a hundred million ghosts, yet still fell to Yuna Ji.
The scene shifted the moment John Chou left the cave. Instantly, we were pulled back to memories from seven days ago—Yuna Ji had already entered a cave beneath the snowy mountain.
"Seriously, what’s the point of all this training? If I let these guys out, they could wipe out those hell wardens—why bother with all this hassle?"
Yuna Ji complained, pouting as she slumped into a throne of bones built by her skeletons, propping her chin on her hand, looking like she had no intention of practicing at all.
Irrelevant system message, skip translation.
True to her nature, Yuna Ji couldn’t stand the monotony of training. After less than an hour, she slipped out of the cave and headed for the icy plain. Basil Bertram’s power kept the Ghost Sovereigns disguised as hell wardens for a week. Yuna Ji strolled among the wardens, joking and chatting as if she belonged.
"So, what’s the deal with that thing down below? I’ve never gone down there—it drains ghost aura."
Yuna Ji asked, and a drunken blue-skinned warden laughed beside her.
"I’ve never gone down either, but I heard from the bosses: the reason for burying those skeletons underground is, if the soul gets too close to its own bones, it might return to them. That’s trouble, since it’s your own corpse. But that’s just what the bosses say."
Yuna Ji burst out laughing, then asked another question.
"That’s impossible, right? If a soul goes down, the ghost aura gets absorbed by the skeletons."
But soon a yellow-skinned warden spoke up.
"Not necessarily. Since it’s your own bones, I’ve heard that if the soul gets absorbed, the skeleton might gain consciousness. And the corpse of a soul that doesn’t disappear will vanish too."
Yuna Ji, intrigued, asked plenty more and then left, searching through pits full of dead souls’ bodies.
"If you could merge a soul into its own corpse, wouldn’t it become powerful? These souls were all wicked in life—their skills must be sharp. If they regained their bodies and consciousness, they’d make formidable soldiers."
Now I understood why Yuna Ji thought this way—it must have everything to do with her death. Back then, her homeland fell because there weren’t enough soldiers. Even with natural defenses, they couldn’t hold off the enemy. In the end, the nation was lost. I don’t know exactly how the war ended, but I suspect Yuna Ji died for her country, closing the chapter on that battle.
For days, Yuna Ji didn’t train her ghost aura. Instead, she shuttled between the cave and the pits, using her ghost aura to test which skeleton matched which soul. But no matter how hard she tried, finding a perfect match was nearly impossible.
Abyssal Hell wasn’t large, but it held hundreds of thousands of souls and skeletons. Frustrated, Yuna Ji had to try elsewhere.
Finally, on the fifth day, Yuna Ji found a soul in a pit that matched a skeleton from her cave. Excited, she waited for the wardens to get drunk, then snuck away with the corpse.
Outside the cave, Yuna Ji was beaming. She didn’t bring the soul down—instead, she found the matching skeleton and controlled it, leading it out.
A low hum filled the air. As soul and skeleton drew close, both reacted—the black surface of the skeleton flickered, unstable, then gathered again. The soul’s corpse began to recover, then reverted. Yuna Ji watched this strange phenomenon, trying to force a fusion, but she was powerless.
With a loud crash, the skeleton collapsed and the soul’s corpse vanished. Yuna Ji was startled. When she tried to control the skeleton again, it didn’t respond. The black faded to white, and the ghost aura drained away.
"How could it fail? That’s impossible!"
Yuna Ji stared at the pile of bones in confusion, picked one up, and returned to the cave, tossing it into the pit.