The Black Tortoise suddenly spun around, its massive jaws gaping wide. Before Elder Samuel could utter another word, a piercing gust swept across the lamas, pulling each one into the Black Tortoise’s mouth. My eyes widened in shock as clusters of Red Spider Lilies burst from the doorway. Isabelle Frost appeared at my side, and the lilies bloomed around me, their scarlet petals erasing every trace of cold.
Ghosts kept pouring out of the gate, desperately devouring the Corrupt Miasma. The sight stunned me—so many ghosts wore pained expressions, yet they had no choice but to eat. Gradually, the shattered city walls and the deep, collapsed crater came into view.
The black mist slowly faded. As the ghosts tore into it together, the first batch staggered back, clutching their stomachs in agony, and slipped through the door Yuna Ji had opened, returning to the Nether Hell.
"Move faster! If you don't want to work in Hell, then eat up—once you've had enough, you can work in the city instead."
Yuna Ji shouted, and the ghosts kept pouring out, devouring the black mist. By now, much of the dark fog surrounding the Golden Temple had been eaten away, yet ghosts still surged out of the gate in dense flocks.
"Just how many ghosts did you prepare?"
I asked, and Yin Qiu smiled, raising a single finger.
"Only ten thousand!"
"It's a million, idiot."
Yuna Ji muttered at me, and I was so shocked my jaw dropped. At that moment, the Four Sacred Guardians had shrunk and gathered inside the last standing house, holding back the overwhelming ghostly aura unleashed by the horde.
But then I noticed a problem: when the ghosts reached the middle of the crater, the black mist started to surge again, pushing back harder and gathering even faster.
"No need to say more, Ms. Rachel. We’ll handle Tammy Blade’s situation—me and the old man. When Leprosy arrives, the three of us will search for her. Don’t worry, it’s in our hands."
Yuna Ji glanced around.
"Opening thirty gates is the limit. John Chou, why don't you go eat some yourself?"
Yuna Ji teased with a grin, but John Chou just snorted coldly and kept watching.
The black mist pressed toward us again. I realized its quality was much lower than before—there was more of it, but it was weaker.
Many fierce ghosts could eat even more before turning back. I felt a surge of excitement—it was my first time seeing so many ghosts helping people, and not just anyone, but those from the supernatural world. I’d never imagined such a scene before.
Long ago, Ethan Justice and I talked about this all night. He said a time would come when humans and ghosts could live in peace. I argued with him then, even though I hoped for that era too. My first real mission with Ethan was in Exile Town.
On my first night in Exile Town, I was moved by the beauty of humans and ghosts coexisting. But when it all ended, I realized such breathtaking sights only existed in dreams—that was what I thought at the time.
After all, in Exile Town, people and ghosts were really just using each other. Their peace was only temporary. Even later, in Ethan Justice’s Shadow Realm, I saw strange scenes where humans and ghosts lived in separate apartment blocks, but except for acquaintances, they barely interacted.
As a child, I used to imagine a time when humans and ghosts would help each other. But everything I’ve encountered since then was nothing like that—humans and ghosts were enemies. Yet the one who made me see it all again was Ethan Justice.
At first, when Ethan Justice interacted with this fierce ghost, I was deeply uncomfortable—especially after Ethan and I had confessed our feelings. I tried to persuade him several times, but he insisted the ghosts were his friends. My unease never really faded, because I thought John Chou just wanted to use Ethan.
But now, that discomfort is gone—because without John Chou, Ethan Justice could never have made it this far.
The fierce ghosts kept devouring the Corrupt Miasma. I laughed with joy, but beside me Isabelle Frost sneered coldly.
"It’s just going with the flow. Rachel Lan is only in your head."
I blinked at Isabelle Frost, but she remained icy as ever.
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it more deeply and you'll understand."
I shook my head in confusion.
"I have no idea what you mean by 'think more deeply,' Miss Isabelle."
"Word will spread quickly. Many sects in the supernatural world are still weighing whether to cooperate with Hades Circle, unsure what to do. If word gets out that ghosts saved the Secret Order, what do you think those in the supernatural world will think—especially with you Underworld Denizens as witnesses?"
I instantly understood what Isabelle Frost meant: this whole thing, masterminded by John Chou, would ultimately benefit Hades and John Chou himself. It was all part of his plan. But I just laughed and shook my head.
"Even so, what does it matter, Miss Isabelle? Soon we’ll be able to see the stars on this lonely island. For us, the only thing that matters is that ghosts really did help people. That’s enough."
A moment later, I could see the staircase ahead and vague figures in the black mist. The ghosts were still devouring the Corrupt Miasma. I hurried over to John Chou.
"Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could’ve been more prepared."
"Would it have helped if I did?"
I smiled and shook my head. Everything was settled—over a thousand lamas had survived, which was the best outcome. Gradually, I saw a faint light breaking through the sky. I looked up and saw a silver glow—the moon, now clearly visible. Outside, on the white plaza, the Underworld Denizens were there, many rushing out, and people on the plaza had already prepared rescue supplies.
The power of the Cataclysm was almost gone. I gazed at the dazzling starry sky, a knowing smile on my face. There was nothing left to worry about. The Black Tortoise drifted toward the plaza, and, surrounded by the Underworld Denizens, spat out all the lamas it had swallowed.
"Ethan really didn’t lie to me—this kind of thing really does exist."
I muttered. John Chou’s lips curled into a faint smile as he floated to the doorway behind him. Suddenly, he pulled out his Bush Knife and swung it down. With a thunderous crash, I stared in shock as the ground split open and a black stream surged out. In an instant, I was stunned—the gluttonous Tammy Blade was shrouded in black mist.
"The outcome isn’t always perfect, Rachel Lan."
I stared at Tammy Blade in confusion. A strange aura radiated from her, and her eyes looked odd. She was clearly human, yet she floated in midair.
"What exactly..."
The silver Tibetan blade in Tammy Blade’s hand was also emanating black mist. She gave me a creepy smile, then instantly transformed into a stream of black energy and vanished into the sky. I stared in shock, about to shout, but suddenly understood.
"Could it be that she..."
"That woman ate the fierce ghost below, but now her body is completely turning into a ghost. The fierce ghost isn’t gone—it’s fighting inside her body."
I swallowed hard.
"Why didn’t you stop her?"
I asked, and John Chou just smiled and shook his head.
Before I could finish, we were already moving, swift as a gust. In moments, I landed on the white plaza, where Underworld Denizens and many ordinary people had gathered. Glancing back, I saw the Golden Temple still half-ruined. People were bringing blankets, food, and water, while some of the lamas huddled together, sobbing.
As we spoke, I sensed someone approaching. Looking up, I saw Vincent Swallow and that strange old man seated on a monk’s robe.
The two of them slowly descended.
"Thank you, John Chou, for letting us know that guy was here."
The strange old man glanced at me and smiled.
"You must be Rachel Lan!"
I nodded. After the old man nodded back, he suddenly extended a finger and traced the character 'he' in midair. The glowing golden word embedded itself in the ground with a rumble, and I stared in amazement as the cracked earth closed up.
"Is this the power of Word Spirit?"
I exclaimed, and the old man wrote another character—'restore.' The golden word split into many copies, floating over the entire Golden Temple. I watched in awe as the collapsed rooms began to rebuild themselves. It was like a dream—impossible, yet happening before my eyes.
"Young Rachel, words have always been connected to what they represent. From the day words were created to express what we see, they’ve been linked to all things. That’s what Word Spirit is. If you ever want to learn, I can teach you."
At that moment, Vincent Swallow looked gloomily at the sky.
"Master Swallow, if I had just..."
"No need to say more, Ms. Rachel. Tammy Blade’s situation will be handled by me and the old man. Once Leprosy arrives, the three of us will go look for her. Don’t worry."
I replied with a simple 'okay.' At that moment, John Chou slowly floated up, tugging me with a red ghost cord, heading down the mountain.
"What are you doing?"
Before I could finish, we were already moving quickly. Soon, I landed on the white plaza, where many Underworld Denizens and quite a few ordinary people had gathered. I looked back—the Golden Temple was still half-ruined. People were bringing blankets, food, and water, and some of the lamas were huddled together in tears.