The Taiyin

"Governor-General Sir! Your subordinate is incompetent. For what comes next, we can only ask a Sorcerer or Divine Priest in the army to step in!"

The coroner examined the Westerner's corpse more closely, especially lifting the eyelids to inspect the whites of his eyes. "By the time this man died, his soul had likely already scattered. Even if we use a secret art, it would be difficult to make him reveal anything..."

"Understood. Mr. Yin, you may begin!"

Fufeng Governor-General stepped back. From behind him emerged another figure: an old man in a black robe, dark-skinned and as thin as a skeleton.

"Yellow marsh, netherworld below, heed my command. Soul, return..."

Though Mr. Yin looked as if a gust of wind could topple him, Zhuo Tie felt something deeply sinister about him now. As he listened to the old man chant in an eerie cadence, the morgue immediately filled with a chilling wind. Zhuo Tie shuddered, suddenly realizing what was happening. His whole body began to tremble.

For the Mr. Yin standing before Zhuo Tie was, astonishingly, a Taiyin Diviner!

What was a Taiyin Diviner? Put simply, he was much like a Western necromancer!

Of course, they had a little more decency than their Western counterparts. It was said they had been touched by the supreme Yin Sovereign. Though they could use all sorts of methods to control the dead, they still exercised a degree of restraint and even took on the duty of protecting souls. At least they hadn't gone down the same road as the Westerners.

But the art Mr. Yin was using now wasn't meant to soothe a soul. It was the legendary soul-binding art!

A secret technique said to let its user steal a soul from anywhere, so long as it had not yet been reincarnated