The blade-wielding avatar went off wandering again, while the stall-running avatar sat withered and nearly motionless.
Perhaps a day passed, or perhaps ten.
The motionless stall-running avatar suddenly opened her eyes. Her nose caught a certain scent, and she swiftly packed up her goods, rolled up the corpse-skin cloth she used as a stall mat, and vanished into the gray distance in strides of thirty feet.
On the Yellow Springs Road, Lycoris Radiata bloomed soundlessly, while scattered wandering souls stood lost and at a loss upon the yellow-earth road.
As she passed through the endless sandstorm, she paused briefly. A dense legion flickered in and out of sight within the Yellow Sand, like terracotta soldiers—broken iron armor, broken banners.
She lowered her conical hat and continued onward.
After order had been shattered, Ghost Gate Pass on the Yellow Springs Road flickered in and out of existence, and there were far fewer wandering souls than usual.
Under normal circumstances, it operated on its own, drawing in and transporting wandering souls against their will. The underworld was like a funnel swallowing the sea, but now it resembled a dirt slope parched by three or four years of drought. The number of wandering souls on the Yellow Springs Road was not even one-thousandth of what it had once been, leaving the Underworld Emissaries with almost nothing to do.
The vast majority of wandering souls were muddleheaded, mechanically following the crowd. More often, there were simply Ghost Fire and drifting phosphorescence.
Suddenly, the avatar heard an argument ahead.
That distinctive scent grew stronger. She flashed again and appeared farther away.
Where the Underworld Emissaries had gathered.
"Let go! Otherwise, you won't be able to bear the consequences!"
"What a joke. You lowborn wretches dared stand before one of my noble bloodline? Have you forgotten