With a whoosh, a ferocious ghost with a twisted face raised its broadsword, green light flickering across its body, and appeared right in front of me.
"Whose side are you on, kid?"
I let out a startled cry, but the ghost's broadsword came down without hesitation. With a clang, I stumbled backward, my hand tingling with numbness. In a flash, the ghost was in front of me again, swinging the broadsword at my head, aiming precisely for my soul.
Deathbane Aura instantly spilled from my body, enveloping me. With a sinister hiss, I transformed into a cloud of black mist and circled the ghost, one hand clamping its neck, Belle pressed against its spine.
"I'm not on anyone's side, and I don't want to get involved. Where exactly is this place?"
The ghost in front of me burst into wild laughter.
"Do you really need to ask? Of course, it's Old Hell."
With a vicious snarl, the ghost suddenly broke free from my grip and swung its broadsword at me again. I raised Belle with one hand, and in that instant, the Ghost Aura surged onto Belle. I stepped forward and slashed, and with a swift motion, the ghost's broadsword split in two. It stared at me in shock, then immediately fled toward the ground.
I looked around. In the nearby sky, plenty of ghosts were fighting. Some wore rough animal skins or coarse linen, while others dressed more formally in fine linen robes, white with red cloud patterns. I noticed three kinds of patterns: some were dragons, some were rainbow-colored, almost like an actual rainbow.
"Old Hell?"
I exclaimed in surprise. With a whoosh, a ghost soldier with red clouds on his robe charged at me. With two swift movements, he fell away. I glanced around and saw a towering mountain, then turned into a streak of black light and flew toward it.
I landed on a narrow ledge halfway up the mountain, crouched behind a large rock, and quietly observed. Both sides were slaughtering each other, ghosts dying nonstop—the whole scene was chaos.
The attacking ghosts kept appearing, as if they had suddenly materialized out of nowhere.
"They finally made it."
At the sound of a loud roar, I looked in that direction. In the distance, a massive black sphere emerged from clouds streaked with black, yellow, red, green, and purple, moving incredibly slowly. The evil ghosts on the ground cheered.
"Take this place, and Hell is ours."
It was as if black rain was falling from the sky, but it wasn't rain. From the surface of the black sphere, streams of black energy poured down, each one a ghost. Among them were many Blue Wraiths. Old Hell's side began to collapse, and many ghosts chose to surrender, only to be mercilessly slaughtered—their screams echoing as they were turned to dust.
I thought hard: was this my memory, or had I really returned to the Old Hell of the past? The more I considered, the more it felt like I had truly come back to Old Hell.
I sensed a powerful Ghost Aura flying this way. In the distance, it looked like a woman—her hair billowed like clouds, and her white robe was covered in red clouds. It was Sylvia Yan, a primordial overlord of Old Hell. I recognized her immediately as she flew over, her face cold.
Instantly, the Old Hell ghost soldiers cheered, while the evil ghosts pouring from the sphere panicked.
"Don't be afraid, everyone attack together!"
With a thunderous boom, blinding light erupted, and the sky turned crimson in an instant. I swallowed hard as the enormous black sphere, its edges unseen, began to crack and break apart, scattering black stones in all directions.
Sylvia Yan blazed in the sky like the sun, and the evil ghosts on the ground were instantly reduced to dust. The overwhelming power was suffocating—greater even than Judge Bane's. I swallowed, shielding my eyes as gusts of wind howled past me, tearing at my clothes and skin, the air thick with the screams of dying souls.
With repeated bangs, the sphere kept exploding, splitting completely and crashing down. The massive black stones struck the ground, shaking the earth and mountains.
"Form a defensive line."
Sylvia Yan said coldly. Immediately, the ghost soldiers regrouped. Only now did I see clearly: before me was a huge pass wedged between mountain peaks. Countless ghost soldiers flew down from a floating crimson island, then rushed toward the pass once they landed.
Sylvia Yan had vanished from the sky. I noticed that the gigantic black stones which had just fallen disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I kept hiding behind the rock, quietly watching. Soon, I began to climb by hand. The density of yin energy above was so high that even Blue Wraiths would struggle here, but having long visited the world of the dead, this yin energy was nothing to me.
I finally reached the mountaintop and swallowed hard. The crimson mountain beneath me wasn't the only one—there were two more: one gold, one rainbow-colored, each corresponding to a floating island in the sky. Now I was certain: this was Old Hell.
Between the three islands, a pale blue column of light shot into the sky. I looked around—ghost soldiers streamed down from the islands. In the distance, waves of ghostly aura began to gather and press toward us.
"Go over there."
Startled, I looked around, unsure who had spoken. But I knew I needed to head toward the pale blue pillar of light. I began slowly making my way down the mountain.
At the bottom, I found piles of strange rocks. Avoiding the main road, I slipped through the rocks, gradually approaching the center between the three floating islands.
Suddenly, I stopped. A power I knew all too well washed over me—the power of desire. I could feel it, but it no longer affected me. Desire only exists in things with feelings.
Soon I reached a flat area, where the force of desire was overwhelming, saturating the air. I saw a clear, pristine lake—the Lake of Desire. Instantly, memories of everything I'd seen before in the Forest of Desire returned to me.
I walked over slowly.
"It's that guy."
I gasped, staring blankly at the lake's surface. The water was crystal clear, and at the bottom was a house, just a shade darker than the water. Inside, a long-haired, chiseled-faced figure sat at a desk, flipping through a Blank Desire Tome.
"What's the connection?"
I swallowed. Wasn't this the same guy I'd seen before in the Lake of Desire?
Just as I was about to step into the lake, another thought appeared in my mind, urging me to follow the pale blue pillar of light upward. I looked around—no one was nearby, and with ghostly energy everywhere, no one was likely to notice me.
With a whoosh, I drifted toward the pillar of light, thinking of the powerful figure beneath Mount Boundless, endlessly attacking the pillar, striking a column that would never fall.
I floated upward along the pale blue pillar, rising steadily. Soon, I saw a small island above. As I ascended, a fierce burst of ghostly energy appeared—startling me. It was the same figure striking the pillar, and in the center was a mass of black blood, swirling.
"The blood John Chou wanted me to get?"
I didn't know what it was, only that a single drop would make my ghostly energy surge hundreds of times. Without it, I couldn't have used Bloodbane Power to destroy the Abyssal Pit.
"What is the Saint of the Underworld trying to tell me?"
A basketball-sized golden orb appeared before me, radiating warmth. Gradually, patterns formed on its surface—it was the three rulers of Old Hell.
Emperor God sat in his chair, face twisted with rage. Sylvia Yan, a primordial overlord of Old Hell, stood opposite him, Phantom Sage between them. It looked like they had just argued.
"We absolutely can't hand this over to anyone. What do you mean by that, Sylvia Yan?"
Emperor God roared in anger. Sylvia Yan shook her head.
"The one called the monk, imprisoned below—you must have seen him. His power can turn things into nothingness. The situation is beyond what the three of us can handle. The Hungry Ghost Realm and Hell Realm are out of balance, and they're heading our way. Soon, they'll collide with Hell itself."
I swallowed, seeing that they were not joking.
"Absolutely not—we can't hand this over to the Saint of the Underworld. That's impossible. Are you willing to give up something? Everything we've guarded and pursued for years, Sylvia Yan..."
With a snap, the golden orb vanished before me, and a voice in my mind urged me to keep flying upward.
"What are you trying to tell me, Saint of the Underworld?"
I called out, but there was no reply. At the top, I saw a patch of color—white and yellow. With a rush, I plunged into it.
I was stunned—the scene before me was gut-wrenching. Corpses littered the ground, their twisted bodies sprawled in unnatural angles, the air heavy with the stench of blood and death. A battle had just taken place. Judging by their clothes, it was a tribal conflict.
"We meet again. This is our third encounter, I believe."
I turned in surprise. It was the figure cloaked in black mist, showing only golden eyes.
"Why are you here?"
"This isn't where you belong. Let me take you back—I know the way out of the path you're on now."
The figure shrouded in black mist grabbed my hand without warning, and we started moving. Everything around us blurred and sped past.