Book 20 Chapter 10

Dawn of the Dead

-Waterfowl soar over a foggy dock

It's early morning. One by one, people began to trickle onto the dock, which was shrouded in mist and sleeping in silence. Five raggedy men, each with an arsenal of weapons strapped to their waists or backs. Each of them seemed to be out of place or crooked, even though they hadn't even signed the contract yet. Their eyes were fierce, as if they had sworn to live like beasts.

Their parents had made their fortunes from the same crimes, and had raised them to be prized, taking in all manner of creatures with the money they earned. In the eyes of the men, who had inevitably become the last of their kind, the White Lady and her two handmaidens, who had just emerged from the fog, must also be seen as tasty prey.

Compared to those who were constantly perpetrating evil deeds, impatient for the blood to dry on their swords, the White Lady had a very alien air. Their clean, innocent faces seemed almost innocent; they were spirits, wraiths, and phantoms.

"What do you think?"

There was a quick exchange of words between the villains.

"Ssshhhhh."

"What should I do? We still have time."

"Recreational use, yes! I'm for it!"

"Me too."

Once the tide was turned, someone pointed out a problem.

"But it's only three, that's not enough."

"What's new? Isn't there always a shortage of resources? Let's practice the virtue of sharing."

When someone suggested a solution, the five villains quickly came together. All were in favor.

As the saying goes, the great shall know the small, and the small shall know the great. The men gathered today were all from the same area, and all wore red sashes around their waists. They were the heirs of the five patriarchs of the famous Iron Heart Sect in Gangnam, collectively known as the Gangnam Five Troublemakers. They had been raised by their parents to live a life of unadulterated bliss, treating women as nothing more than pacifiers to be thrown away.

He hadn't had much luck with women lately, as he had been busy preparing for his exams, when a group of strikingly beautiful women suddenly appeared. Thinking that this was a gift from heaven, they slowly crowded around the spirits and their maids. Their drooling mouths and greedy eyes reminded me of a vixen in heat.

"Chhhhhh!"

"What a bunch of crap. Argh!"

"Here, hold still, I'm going to give you a lot of cuddles."

"I'll send you to heaven. Kekeke."

"That looks delicious. Yum!"

They were a bunch of demented, offended men. Apparently, they had been raised to believe that women should be pushed down with force.

"Hwanmu, what are these?"

The spirit turned to her trusted maid, Hwanmu, who was always objective and rational in her judgment.

"They are human stallions, as you can see, my lady!"

Hwanmu's answer was short and to the point.

"I guess that's it, huh?"

"I guess it really is, lady. Now what?"

Mongmu said, cringing in fear.

"I don't know, maybe a conversation will work?"

"They say a stick is medicine for a mad dog, lady."

At Huanmu's blunt and terse words, the villains' eyes spewed fire.

"Look at the way this wench talks, my dear, you must serve the West!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you can't thank the old folks for coddling you from now on!"

"I'll be pressing those bald lips to yours in no time!"

The spirit frowned and shook his head at the increasingly messy rant.

"You didn't want to get dirty blood… but your barking is so loud I can't hear you anymore!"

Bam!

"Kaaahhhh!"

The words '…none' and the sound of a bang rang out simultaneously, without missing a beat, as a lightning-like spirit sheath smashed into the first man's mouth. A scream rang out as teeth flew out in a spray of blood. The attack was so sudden that the rest of the men blinked in unison.

"Ouch!"

The man with the smashed mouth folded in half at the waist again. Fang Mu's elbow, which had flown out of nowhere, struck him in the stomach with the sharpness of a flail.

"Uhhh……."

The men's eyes widened when they realized that the maids, who had been thought of as second-class citizens, were also skilled.

"Where are you looking?"

Mongmu, now behind the second man, swung his right arm around and slammed his left shoulder down at an angle. The man's face slammed straight into the floor. Before a scream could escape his lips, Mongmu viciously kicked his opponent in the face with his knee, twisting and snapping his grasping right arm without hesitation. It was an undeniably skillful articulation.

"Off!"

"You, bitch!"

Panicked men stood around.

"You're paying lip service."

Appearing out of nowhere in front of the third man's nose, Fang Mu swung his hand with blinding speed. A thin, sharp needle, three inches long, lodged beneath the man's left ear, traveled down his neck, between his cervical vertebrae, and exited beneath his right ear. He wasn't dead, but he couldn't move.

The man stood as still as a statue, his mouth agape. Huan Mu kicked him over as if he didn't want to touch him and stepped back, his face expressionless.

"I smell bad breath, over!"

Soon there were only two men left standing with red sashes around their waists.

"Bounce, bounce!"

When they realize what's going on, the "old" friend on the floor is the last thing on their minds. A "friend," they say, is someone who stays with you through the good times and ignores you through the bad. And the good times are over!

"Where are you going?"

As the two men turned, a grim-faced spirit stood before them. A sheathed sword passed between their skulls twelve times. It happened in an instant. Stars flashed before the men's eyes.

"Is that enough?

Just as the spirit was about to sheath his sword, there was a ping, and the two men's eyes widened until they couldn't get any bigger.

"Kwehwehwehwehweh!"

A piercing scream shook the still dawn lake, and startled waterfowl broke the surface. The men collapsed with foam in their mouths. The spirit found the sole of Mongmu's foot between the legs of one of them and quickly realized the cause.

"Mongmu, what are you doing, a woman should be in control, you're kicking her, impure!"

Hwanmu hexed Mongmu instead of the spirit.

"Hmph, I don't want to hear that from you. Huanmu, what's that stick in your hand? You were even more fearsome than me earlier. It looks like you've even harpooned yourself."

The spirit coughed, hummed, and turned its head slightly to glance to the side. Behind the last man to fall, Hwanmu stood holding a wooden club of unknown origin.

"It's okay because I'm not physically touching it. I don't want to feel that unclean sensation as part of my precious body. It's horrible to think about."

It seems that it was the type of tool used that was the problem for Huanmu.

"Uhhhh, why don't we both stop now?"

The spirit blushed slightly and coughed incoherently.

"Make the other three do the same, miss. If you don't want your friends to fight, you have to be fair."

"Do I have to?"

When I asked him to reconsider, he was adamant.

"Sure. It's only an inconvenience if it's fine."

"That's right, you need to weed it out before that."

There was no room for reconsideration.

"That sounds scary today."

"Lady, this is Blackness. Women are always the underdog when it comes to menstruation. If you put up with it, you'll only get beaten up more, and there's no one to sympathize with you. Especially since these scumbags don't know any better, you need to raise awareness every chance you get. Otherwise, you're just making other women feel like pathetic victims."

The spirit had no words to refute Hwanmu's words.

"Then I'm going to turn my back on you, so get it done."

"Yes, ma'am."

When she turned around, she saw a wide-open lake. The spirit tried to focus her mind on the pure beauty of nature, but the noises that soon followed were very distracting.

Puck!

A terrifying sound, followed by a moment of silence. The sound of something stirring and then falling silent.

"Can I borrow it? I'm all used up."

"Nope, already abandoned body. Let's keep going with this one."

Puck.

He could feel the vibrations of the nalutor beneath his feet. The spirit barely resisted the urge to cover his ears. As his master, he needed to show some resolve.

"Ugh, what about the other one?"

"Well, we can't, let's go at the same time."

"Okay, but you can't hit my foot!"

"No problem. No need to worry, over."

POOF!

In the eerie silence that came with the continuous sound, the spirit pondered.

"But when am I supposed to turn my head again?

While the spirit was hesitating, unable to decide what to do, he heard the cry of Mongmu.

"Oh, it's a boat! It's a ship, lady!"

Keeping her gaze slightly upward and trying not to look down, the spirit slowly turned her head back.

A black line cut through the whitish mist that lay over the lake. It was a large ship with two broad sails billowing upward and twelve oars to each side. A red flag atop the mast fluttered fiercely in the early morning lake breeze. The black ship glided lightly across the lake, as if it had already made thousands of round trips, twenty-four oars on each side, moving in unison, even though the fog had not yet lifted. Approaching at such a fast pace that one might wonder if they were going to collide, Black Sun slowed down with familiar skill, and with the slightest of oar movements, he positioned his large body precisely next to the paddler, without missing a beat. It was an astonishingly precise maneuver. But the ship was as silent as a ghost ship.

"You're quiet, young lady."

"I see, not a sound, it's like a ghost ship."

The ship was still silent. Mongmu hated that silence.

"How's that, do you think you've recovered from the void, young lady?"

After a few moments of silence on the ship, Meng Mu, who was sitting on the left side of the spirit, couldn't help but ask in a small voice, "What's going on?

"I don't think I'd be any good against that bullshit, they're not even warming up."

Fang Mu, who stood to the right of the spirit, said in a skeptical tone.

"That too."

Still, Mongmu's eyes were wide with anticipation.

"Well, as Hwanmu said, you've recovered at least five or six times, if not completely."

Mongmu said, sweeping his hand across his chest.

"That's a good thing, young lady. You were so badly wounded in the last fight that one wrong move could have wiped out your family's martial arts. You've been working so hard these past three months to restore your family's arcane swordsmanship."

"But my swordplay is still as unfamiliar to me as if I were wearing clothes that don't fit, and I must have been badly injured. I'll have to recover quickly……."

The spirit was not yet satisfied with his condition. Even though the after-effects of her last fight were severe, the symptoms were lingering longer than she thought. There were many times when he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was not in his own body.

"It's all because of those 'black' bitches."

Mongmu exclaimed with a grunt.

"You can't let them get away with it, lady. Blood for blood. They must be avenged, my lady!"

Huanmu chimed in.

"That's……."

Then, with a clatter, a long wooden staircase descended, placing them between the ship and the dock.

"We'll talk about that later. Right now, we need to take care of what's in front of us."

"Yes, I must have been too light with my words."

Huanmu bowed his head and apologized.

Once the wooden steps were secured, a single lantern shimmered on the ship's railing.

"Is it just the three of you today?"

A man poked his head over the foggy railing of the boat, a man who looked quite old, with a long scar on his cheek, and no doubt no ordinary sailor. At the man's question, the spirit turned its head to look around, its gaze still slightly upward.

"Looks like it's just us."

"Good. Get in."

"Thank you."

The spirit replied, then looked at the two maids.

"Let's get back on the boat."

"Yes, ma'am."

Finally, Spirit, Mongmu, and Fangmu boarded the black ship bound for the Heavenly Palace. The five had already collapsed from the bubble, leaving only the three of them on board.

But…….

The spirit was about to board the ship after showing the black student at the reception desk the sign he had given her yesterday for ten golden water glasses when he was stopped by a man. The man held out one hand.

"What is this?"

The spirit asked, though it was the man who was more amused.

"Of course it is, what else could it be?"

"Does this mean I have to pay again? Wasn't the boat fee included in yesterday's reception fee?"

The spirit who had been robbed of ten gold coins yesterday asked in disbelief.

"Uh-huh, you're saying all sorts of strange things, young lady. You think you're getting a free ride on this ship? How many people do you think are up at the crack of dawn right now to get this ship moving? At least thirty people are up at the crack of dawn to get this ship moving and get you on board. And do you think you can just cut a piece of wood and float it on the water and it's a ship? How much money do you think it takes to keep this big ship running the way it is? If a man has a conscience, he can't say he's getting a free ride. No, he can't."

The man's tone was one of liquidation, as if he hadn't done it before.

"That… that……."

When the opponent came out like this, the spirit could no longer go out strong.

"Okay, I'll pay, I'll pay, how much?"

The man glanced over the spirit's shoulder and said.

"An ounce of gold for each person, three ounces of gold for three people."

The spirit's eyes widened. He had just spent ten gold coins yesterday. And now it was asking for another three gold coins.

"Isn't that stupid?"

"You can get off if you don't want to, but just know that there are no other boats that can take you to the 'island' except this one."

The man replied bluntly. He said, "There is nothing to fear or regret. In fact, we have no choice but to cry and eat mustard on this ship. It was the tyranny of the 'monopoly'.

"These girls are my handmaidens, and yet they're being paid an armful of gold?"

"Uh-huh, you're a strange woman, saying strange things. Man or woman, nobleman or slave, the pressure on a ship per foot of water is the same."

The man, a very thoroughgoing egalitarian in a sense, gestured around again and said.

"Now, look around you. Everybody's paid their fare, and you're the only one left. Don't you feel guilty that you can't set off because you're waiting for her? Will you pay or won't you?"

She didn't want to habitually accept reality without questioning it, but she didn't have the power to change it.

Something wasn't right. She did as she was told and looked around. She was relieved to see no one. She was worried that she was wrong.

"Hey… we're the only ones in here?"

He slammed his fist into her palm.

"Oh, yeah, I did. I'm sorry, it's getting to be a habit."

"S, habit……."

The spirit's mouth dropped open. If that's the kind of thing that comes out of his mouth, it's probably not the first time this has happened.

"Is that why you failed?"

I was asked if I had ever not been paid.

"There isn't, and there never will be."

The company's intentions were clear. It seemed like a waste of time to argue further.

"Okay, I can do it, I can do it, I can do it."

Finally, the spirit raised the white flag.

"Good idea," I said, "how will you get on with your future work if you're taking this much time over something so trivial? Just get it done."

"Does this mean I still have to pay?"

The spirit, recognizing the ominous undertones in the man's words, replied.

"You'll see."

The man replied bluntly.

"Oh, but they don't take them, I'm sure they've paid for the test?"

Still lying on the floor in the cold of the dawn, the spirit pointed a finger at the things that purred and wriggled and squirmed.

"Well, he's still alive."

One word: boring.

"Don't bother, I don't need any losers in this angle."

Those were two cold words.

"Chet, I'll know when I get there… Lady, what did he mean when he said that disturbing thing?"

After jerking his head back halfway to look at the man once more, as if the man's words had struck a chord, Mongmu asked.

"Don't you realize, I'm going to be spending money for the rest of my life? That's it."

Huan Mu replied bluntly in a cold tone.

"There's nothing more I can add."

That was all the spirit could say.

"Go!"

At the man's command, the bridge rose, the oars moved back, and the boat pulled away from the rudder, heading for the deeper water that would support her.

"Hey, Fang Mu, why are you still holding that stick, isn't that the one from earlier?"

"Huh? Come to think of it."

Huanmu said, as if he'd just realized something.

Suddenly, the captain flinched at the subtlety of the conversation. It was an instinctive fear.

"That horrible thing, won't you throw it away? No, throw it away. As far as you can."

Approaching in a slightly defensive stance, the captain asked in a polite tone. There was something about that ordinary-looking stick that struck a chord of unconscious fear.

"Sure. I'm concerned about water pollution, but I can't have it."

Huanmu nodded obediently. Suddenly, his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Hmm. Well, you don't have to throw it away. It looks solid, so you could use it as a deterrent, or engrave the date on it as a souvenir……."

Mongmu took the stick from Hwanmu and playfully carved numbers into it.

"Throw that shit out the window!"

The captain shouted.

"That's right, throw it away!"

A sailor, appearing as a ghost out of nowhere, replied. It turns out there are quite a few sailors on deck.

"Why? It's a waste."

The men flinched and backed away as Mongmu swung his club around.

Voila!

"Stop it, you!"

Huanmu said, clutching Mongmu's head.

"Throw that stuff in the water. It's unclean."

"I see."

The spirit, who had been pretending not to be part of the group for a while, seized the opportunity and spoke up.

"Chet, this is going to be fun……."

Reluctantly, Mongmu tossed the club into the far reaches of the lake. Amidst the sighs of relief, Mongmu pouted, his eyes filled with regret.

The ship glided forward across the blue waters of Dongjing Lake. The morning sun on the lake cleared away some of the fog, and the view grew wider and wider, and the blurred images became clearer and clearer through the added fog. It didn't stop people from looking around, wondering where they were headed, perhaps as a sign of confidence, but the vastness of the lake made it impossible for those unfamiliar with its waters to discern where they were headed. That was true of the spirits as well.

About halfway down the river, we began to see a few Sunla boats, each with a small flag on the stern. Each of the three-man crews wore a variety of equipment on their backs, and one of the men wore a tight-fitting black life jacket that kept the water out and made swimming easier. It was a well-organized group, ready for any eventuality.

"That's the nest of the crocodile, the one you want to enter."

"Self-destruction? It's a purple bamboo island……."

Then a small island shadow appeared through the thinning haze.

"Whoa, that's smaller than I thought."

The shade of the island that appeared was surprisingly small. It wasn't too small, but it wasn't too big either.

"You're right, it's too tiny, miss."

Mongmu replied with a tone of great disappointment.

It seemed like a lot of facilities could not fit in there. It looked like it would fit in about three buildings.

"I agree. Done."

Huanmu nodded in agreement.

The man shrugged his shoulders and said something.

"Where are you looking? What you're seeing is just one of four smaller islands attached to the main island. Look behind it. It's hard to see because it's shrouded in fog, but it's about to appear."

The shadow behind him was enormous, ten times the size of the one before it. It looked like a mountain had risen out of the lake. As the morning sun rose higher and higher, pushing back the fog, the shape of the island became more and more distinct.

The island was surrounded by bamboo. The top and bottom of the island were all green bamboo. There was even bamboo growing above the water. Furthermore, the island was surrounded by a blue barrier that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be bamboo straw woven from raw bamboo. The stalks and leaves of dozens of long bamboos had been removed, the tops sharply cut off, and the pieces stitched together seamlessly. The bamboo, in its natural state, was likely to have several layers.

"That's Jiajiao Island, the home of the Temple of Heaven."

It was an internal explanation.

"That's a lot of bamboo."

"Here, bamboo can be used for anything. Weapons, walls, traps, picks, you name it, you'll find it."

You'll see bamboo stilts made of green bamboo, a rampart hidden behind them, and medium-sized islands off to the side. The wooden posts are where the reef is located.

"Don't you dare jump in, or you'll be skewered."

The man spoke in a blunt tone. He had sharpened bamboo tips and stuck them all over the shallow water to keep the enemy at bay.

"Don't worry. I've been living in the mountains all my life, so I'm not much of a swimmer."

"For something like that……."

The man led the horse.

"Why?"

"No. It's just that he seemed used to being on a boat. He wasn't seasick. It was just a feeling. Don't worry about it."

It bothered me.

As we followed the bamboo wall that surrounded the island, an entrance appeared. It was an unusually shaped door with two large pillars supporting a massive beam. I wondered how they had managed to forge such massive beams, as thick and massive as beautiful, centuries-old trees, and then drive them into the water? If it wasn't curious, it was strange. The structure had a strength that was overwhelmed by its history. It could have been made of iron pillars. On either side of the pillar was an inscription that read.

Even if you dye your heart red, you can't get through this door.

The ship stopped in the doorway.

At the top of each of the two pillars was a watchtower to stand guard.

"What opens the blue bamboo?"

A voice came from the watchtower. Blackness.

"It's only the red sunset that colors the lakeside."

The man looked up and answered. Again the sound came from above.

"Open door!"

The entrance to the "suicide chamber" opened and the ship glided into it. Inside, a broad promontory carved into the shape of a crescent moon appeared. The entire promontory was surrounded by a surprisingly high wall of stone. The entrance was a single iron gate in the center. The gate was so huge that it could be seen from a distance. On either side of the gate hung an enormous bronze statue of a grinning ghost. It was a ghastly and ominous figure, worthy of a watchman at the gates of hell. It was then that Mongmu's eyes widened as he spotted something.

"Aah! Miss, look over there. There's a man floating on the water!"

Mongmu pointed to a spot and jumped up and down in excitement.

"Do you dream at dawn for a name? How can anyone be on the water… really?"

Meng Mu's eyes narrowed as he turned his head, thinking he must be mistaken. There was indeed a man floating on the water with a long harpoon-like weapon on his back. There was no boat. And it wasn't just one person. At regular intervals of about five zhang, ten black-clad men stood on the water, their black cloaks fluttering.

"Ah, those are the ten gatekeepers who guard the entrance to the Temple of Heaven, the Ten Demon Gatekeepers. They are masters of the art of water, whether above or below the water, and no one can enter without their permission."

The captain was kind enough to explain.

"So you're saying you're a cilantro that can float on water using only your inner air?"

Mongmu asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Well… I don't know about that. And even if I did, I can't teach you."

There was no good in talking too much; he was a man of restraint.

"Of course not. Even if they were masters, it would be impossible for them to stay afloat all day by the power of their inner air. There are probably countless invisible stakes down there. They're just not visible from here because they're just below the surface."

He was impressed with the spirit's explanation.

"Ho-ho, what a snowball's chance in hell, you figured it out in one look."

The captain didn't deny it, but rather admired it.

"You're not denying it, are you?"

"I'm not going to deny it, because even if I did, they'd still be invincible in the water."

Even though there are stakes beneath the surface, they don't know where they are; they're the only ones who know where everything is. And it takes a lot of training to run back and forth over them.

"That's the entrance to the Temple of Heaven, commonly known as the Demon Gate."

Pointing to an ominous-looking iron gate, the man said.

"It's pretty stinky who built it."

I couldn't tell because there's no overpass, but the tenuous position of the sun suggests it's northeast.

"Are you saying that only those who are willing to become ghosts can enter this place?

Shrouded in mist and smoke, the black iron gates with eerie ghostly glyphs really did look like the entrance to hell. The promontory was not shallow. It was quite deep, even right up against the ramparts, so there was nowhere to put the boat.

"Are they really going to stick it right next to that creepy carved iron gate?

Between the entrance to the bamboo gate and the ear gate, no obstacle could be seen except the blue lake, yet the ship did not go straight, but took an oblique course.

"Why are they flying this way when there are no reefs or other obstacles in sight?"

The spirit asked, unable to contain his curiosity, and the man replied dryly.

"It's just my hobby."

"You mean it's not a hobby."

The answer of "I can't tell you" was more or less an answer.

"Does that mean there's nothing where you look, but there's something where you don't look?"

The man gasped at the spirit's question.

"Sojae has an extraordinary eye. That's what happens when you learn too many secrets, isn't it? That's exactly what happens. Only those who want to capsize the ship steer it straight."

Indeed, everywhere there was a suspicious arrangement for the time of battle as espionage. It seemed that not even Yangsanbak could be more stern.

"Are you going to go to war, and your opponent is an official?"

"It's not an offense, it's more of a defense. We don't want to be caught unawares, so we're just preparing for that."

I couldn't believe it, and my stomach dropped as I thought about it.

To the left and right of the entrance to the main hall were two ghostly faces, cast in iron, with long horns on their foreheads. Both eyes and mouths were gaping into the darkness, making them even more eerie.

"Who is he that willeth to enter into the kingdom of hell?"

"Gah!"

Startled by the echoing voice from behind his ear, Mongmu fell asleep and clung to the spirit. It was as if a ghost was calling out to him.

"Calm down. They're doing it on purpose to scare you. Someone up there must be talking through the bars, that's what's causing all the rumbling."

It was clearly a deliberate attempt to kill the energy of visitors, especially test takers.

"He who wants power in exchange for blood."

The man spoke into the gaping maw of his ear.

That was the promised password.

"Affiliation?"

"Lord Haedae, captain of the First Spirit Ship, I have just returned with a candidate for admission to the Temple of Heaven."

"Please wait a moment."

Then a shout came from the ramparts.

"Raise the Narutor!"

"No, do you want me to raise the narrator?

As if in response, a stomach churning sound came from below.

"Raise the Narutor! Rise!"

"Injury!"

While everyone, including Monmu, was still thinking, "What the heck?" the Narutor really came up. With the echoing sound of chains being wound around a giant pulley, it slowly emerged from the water's surface.

"That's really coming up!"

Mongmu's mouth dropped open in admiration.

"That's really interesting."

So was the surprised spirit.

"Stupid."

Only Huanmu was cynical.

"This is another one of those devices to make sure that the government troops don't run afloat. It can also be used as a trap in case of emergency and is very useful."

As soon as Lord Hae-Dae had finished his kind explanation, the ship came to a complete stop. With a dull thud, the stairs descended. He stepped down first, followed by Spirit, Mongmu, and Huanmu.

He walked until he came to a massive iron gate. It was carved with terrifying figures that looked like hordes of ghosts could jump out at any moment. I could almost believe it was a gate to hell. Apparently, I'd still have to be checked here.

"Who is he that seeketh this hell?"

An eerie voice emanated from the bronze earpiece to the right of the door.

"He who seeks power in exchange for blood, who is not afraid to become a ghost, who walks the path of Sura and spills blood."

Hae Dae Kyung replied.

"How much blood are you willing to shed?"

"I want to spill one drop of blood and two drops of water."

It meant one candidate and two handmaidens.

"That's one complicated procedure."

"Noisy. Be quiet."

Mongmu's grumbling was preceded by a pinzan.

Boom!

Finally, with a heavy thud, the ghostly door opened. It was the kind of sound you'd expect a gate in hell to make if it had one. Lord Haedae spun around and spread his hands wide.

"Welcome, temporal hell, we welcome you."

When told to go in when he was ready, the spirit didn't hesitate.

"Let's go!"

The spirit took the first step, and the two handmaidens followed. Then the darkness swallowed them whole.

Boom!

The iron gates slammed shut with another loud roar.