Shimmering Azure Light, the Netherworld Sword Slays Ghosts and Gods

The Netherworld was tranquil, its ghostly aura drifting at ease.

The waters of the Yellow Springs rolled on without a sound, encircling the whole of the Netherworld and nourishing ghosts and restless spirits.

Beyond the Ghost Capital, the Yellow Springs had flowed without cease for millions of years, raising countless waves in utter silence.

As the waves churned, they often stirred up silt and murky vapors from the depths, or carried up things that had somehow fallen into the Yellow Springs.

Another wave rose, lifting a small, pure-white lotus onto its crest.

The lotus had seven petals, embodying the Seven Emotions of all living things. On the lotus seat they surrounded, a seed neither black nor white, yet seeming both black and white, gave off a faint glow.

Nothing could float upon the Yellow Springs; nothing could escape sinking into them. Yet this white lotus floated on its surface. Ghosts and gods flew overhead, tormented spirits struggled below, and none spared it a glance, as though it were cut off from heaven and earth, from all creation.

The white lotus bobbed with the waves. Once it left the Ghost Capital's domain, a surge of the Yellow Springs washed it onto the boundless land of the Netherworld.

The white lotus took root in the Netherworld's dark soil. As it swayed, a figure emerged, turning from illusion to flesh.

Binmou leisurely dusted off his robes, then looked toward the vast, towering Ghost Capital that sprawled across millions of miles, and the palace at its heart that rose into the clouds.

"Hmph."

"Arrogant fool. A mere Mahayana cultivator, yet you dream of replacing heaven's will with your own and crushing the world beneath your strength alone."

"Let's see if you're still so sure of yourself once Lingyuan arrives in the Netherworld."

Binmou turned