Darkness surrounded us, the only light coming from the blue pillar that the Earth Soul of the Wraithlord was striking. I followed alongside the Wraithlord.
There was no sign of Abyssal Hell here. What I knew about Abyssal Hell was that it was constructed as part of the Six Paths of Reincarnation, serving as its foundation—the deepest layer of Hell.
"Is this place above the Eye of Hell?"
I asked, and the Wraithlord shook his head.
"This place should be described as an independent space within the Netherworld, separated from the Unreal."
I stared in disbelief, then looked at the Wraithlord, confused. Everything in the Unreal was chaotic—wasn't such a place, used to seal the Earth Soul of the Wraithlord, far too fragile?
"When the gods left, this place was split from the Unreal—a relatively stable region that absorbs all power and repairs any damage caused by it. Once inside, unless you have a pardon from the Underworld Court, you cannot leave."
I swallowed and quietly watched the Wraithlord. I immediately thought of the Seven Ghost Sovereigns who escaped from Abyssal Hell, then lay low in the Yang Realm for decades before seizing control of the ghostly path there.
"How did they escape back then? Their powers must have been weak at the time—wouldn't it have been easy to capture and imprison them in Abyssal Hell?"
As I spoke, the Wraithlord nodded.
"You know, the greatest difference between those seven and the Green Wraith—or perhaps the biggest difference from the Green Wraith—is that from the moment they became ghosts, they were already extraordinary. They kept developing and using their powers, eventually becoming Ghost Sovereigns and gaining instinct. Normally, ghosts can't possess instinct, but because they walked out of Abyssal Hell, and instinct itself comes from the Unreal."
The Wraithlord continued speaking as he led me forward. I realized that what I was seeing wasn't just memories—it felt as if I was truly present in this world. I understood then that it was the extent of the Wraithlord's conscious perception, likely covering all of Abyssal Hell, allowing him to see everything clearly.
"The Green Wraith grew gradually through the ranks of ghosts, honing his power, and ultimately gained different abilities due to his unique Ghost Soul. But his essence remained that of the Green Wraith. The Ghost Sovereigns are different—their essence changed before they even became fierce ghosts, turning them into anomalies. That's how they broke the boundaries of what it means to be a ghost."
I nodded in response. We arrived in front of the Earth Soul of the Wraithlord, who was still fiercely punching the light pillar. Yet, as I looked at the pillar now, I felt something was off. It made my whole body uneasy.
"Looks like you're getting used to it."
I looked at the Wraithlord in confusion. Of course, he'd done something to my body when I removed the Karmic Erosion, which was why I could see what the Wraithlord had written in the Blank Desire Tome.
"You bastard."
"Don't worry. I only enhanced what you could perceive. Most people think this light pillar is just ordinary, but it actually holds endless secrets left behind by one of the gods. You can think of it as a passage to somewhere else, but to this day I still haven't found out where it leads. I once mentioned it to Xu Fu, and his response surprised me."
I looked at the Wraithlord, wanting to ask more, but he wouldn't say anything and just kept walking.
"The memories you want to show me must be from when the Ghost Sovereigns were locked in Abyssal Hell, right? Where are the Ghost Sovereigns?"
I asked, and the Wraithlord shook his head, smiling.
"Don't rush. It's not time yet. When the moment comes, you'll see for yourself. This prison that holds me is at the very core of Abyssal Hell. After I escaped, I was locked in again, and the Daoist Order made the place even more secure. Especially after they added the Yin-Yang Purification Cycle, I could no longer use my old methods to get out—even now, that's still true. But once I comprehended the contents of page 99 of the Blank Desire Tome, none of these things could stop me anymore."
The Wraithlord kept leading me across this land of darkness. I saw no other colors—everything was pitch black, with barely a hint of light.
The Wraithlord walked on in silence. After following for a while, I still saw nothing but darkness. Just as I grew puzzled, the Wraithlord pressed a hand forward as if against an invisible wall in the pitch-black space. I swallowed hard.
With a crack, the darkness shattered before my eyes. In that instant, I heard agonized screams, and fiery red light burst forth. I followed the Wraithlord out, stunned in an instant.
The Wraithlord and I stood atop a mountain, at the mouth of a volcano spewing molten lava. Waves of heat rose up, and only then did I notice outside the crater, countless lost souls were wailing. Their bodies were scorched by the erupting heat, slowly turning charred as their flesh melted away. Yet they could not faint—only endure endless, excruciating torment.
Behind me lay a vast, pale-blue ice field; to the left, a ghostly green forest; ahead, a wide, blistering stretch of ground; and to the right, a huge, blackened swamp.
I looked around and saw many Hell's Registrars—true ghosts, with skin of various colors, all resembling old tree bark: shriveled, rough, their faces sharp and fanged. They clustered in groups, chatting and drinking.
Everywhere, lost souls writhed in agony from the torture. They didn't seem mindless, but rather fully conscious of their suffering.
"I can't take it anymore. I'm dying."
One of the lost souls groaned, while several others, their skin scorched by the relentless heat, cried out in agony. Yet amidst their suffering, one suddenly burst into raucous laughter.
"Not enough! I refuse to confess, I refuse to repent. So what if I killed, so what if I set fires? Who are you to judge me? What business is it of yours?"
Some ghosts who seemed long accustomed to this torture cheered in response. Just then, a blue-skinned Hell's Registrar strode over, clutching a massive pair of tongs. He grabbed the defiant soul, smashed a fist into his cheek, caving in the flesh, then dragged him toward the volcano's rim.
"You like to scream, huh? Let's see how you enjoy soaking in there for a few days."
With that, he hurled the defiant soul into the crater. The other lost souls fell silent, fear gripping them.
Watching all this, I realized this hell was unlike any I’d seen before. The difference lay in the souls themselves: here, they retained consciousness, burning with hatred and a fierce urge to rebel.
"I'll kill you all!"
A group of ghosts burst from the forest on the left, their bodies ravaged by bites. Brandishing wooden clubs, they charged at the Hell's Registrars seated by stone tables at the forest’s edge, drinking.
With a thunderous crash, a red-skinned Hell's Registrar surged forward. My eyes widened as green light flashed—this was no ordinary ghost. The aura was overwhelming: a mid-level Green Wraith from the old hells.
"The guards here are anything but weak. They’re all powerful. But after the Ghost Sovereigns spent over a hundred years here, every last one vanished. Now, only seven fiends remain in Abyssal Hell."
I silently watched the Wraithlord as he continued leading me down the mountain. We stepped onto scorched, cracked earth. Only then did I see the torture devices scattered across the land—racks for tormenting souls, some hanging with half-flayed bodies, blood pouring as they screamed. The Hell's Registrars didn’t bother finishing the job; they mocked the victims, some even sprinkling salt onto the exposed flesh, drawing fresh howls of agony.
"The suffering produced here far surpasses any other hell."
The Wraithlord said this, and I glanced at him, unsettled.
"Is it because these souls still have consciousness?"
The Wraithlord nodded.
"Many among them are guilty of heinous crimes and die without remorse. So in this Abyssal Hell, they are subjected to eternal torment. Unless one day they truly understand what Ksitigarbha preaches and let it reach their hearts, they will suffer forever. This place is part of the realm of Hell, reserved for those who bear the heaviest punishments."
I murmured in response. We kept walking, and soon I saw a thick, black layer shrouding the entire Abyssal Hell.
"It’s almost time. The seven are about to arrive."
I followed the Wraithlord to the edge. Suddenly, streaks of red light pierced a black barrier, slowly forming a massive crimson character I couldn’t decipher.
A low hum echoed—Hell's Registrars rushed over in panic. Before my eyes, the red glow coalesced into a city gate, which creaked open.
"Zhong Kui, you old bastard! How dare you deceive me!"
Suddenly, I heard Ji Yun’er’s voice. The first to step out was Yin Choujian, dressed in white scholar’s robes, hair in wild disarray. Right behind him came Lord Shen Yan.