111 The Quiet Riverside

Shikong remained in a state of shock. The wind blew from an unknown origin, lashing wantonly against her face and piercing deep into her heart. An inexplicable sense of dread surged within her, one that no power could suppress.

If this was how Shikong felt, the spirits felt it even more profoundly. Some spirits even longed to retreat back along the Path of Reincarnation, where at least the warmth of the earth still lingered. But they could not turn back; from the moment they stepped onto that path, all routes of retreat had been sealed.

Shikong instinctively moved closer to Nvluo. Fortunately, she had not come alone; at least Her Highness was by her side. At this thought, she straightened her spine once more.

Nvluo’s gaze was fixed upon the River of Oblivion before them. Something seemed different; the river waters she beheld today were more perilous than ever before. The torrents lashed against the banks with a force capable of obliterating everything.

"Your Highness, is this the River of Oblivion?" Shikong finally gazed upon the legendary river of the Underworld. This river, the most mysterious and treacherous in the world of the dead, was exactly as the legends described.

Nvluo nodded.

On the river, no ferry appeared. The empty surface was marked only by the constant churning of waves.

"Your Highness, how are we to cross? Must we wade directly through the water?" If she had a choice, Shikong would never dream of touching such a river.

As she spoke, a head emerged from the water. It was a spirit of the River of Oblivion. Seemingly unable to bear the harshness of the depths, it struggled to break free from the river's grasp. As its body gradually breached the surface, Shikong drew a sharp breath—it was too horrific.

So, this was what spirits became after entering the Underworld: twisted by endless agony, their forms transformed into grotesque shapes, radiating an aura of despair and masking neither their hatred nor their madness. A single glance was enough to chill Shikong to the bone. She tried to look away, but was stunned by what happened next.

As the spirit made one final attempt to break free, a massive wave crashed down. Amidst its wails, the spirit was shattered into fragments—literal fragments. Shikong watched as the spirit’s body disintegrated, dissolving into the flowing river.

Shikong felt the very air thick with the scent of death and the decay of lost life. She felt frozen to the core.

A hand rested on her shoulder. It was Nvluo.

"Your Highness, so this is what the Underworld truly is." Shikong could hardly imagine how Her Highness had navigated the Underworld step by step, ultimately obtaining the Netherfire to return to the mortal realm.

"Shikong, we must wait for the ferry; otherwise, we cannot easily cross the River of Oblivion." Nvluo had no desire to be surrounded by the spirits in the water again, trapped once more in the freezing depths. That was an experience one would never forget.

But why did the ferry not appear? Had some unforeseen variable occurred?

"The ferry?" Shikong looked again at the empty river. Where was it?

"Your Highness, what will happen if the ferry never comes?"

"Wait. We must wait patiently." Nvluo felt a sense of calm return to her. She thought of what she had encountered during her first journey into the Underworld; now, all she could do was wait.

Shikong stopped asking. She followed Nvluo’s lead and tried to relax.

The spirits, however, could not be so composed. They continued to emerge from the river, attempting to escape, only to be shattered without exception. The same scene played out repeatedly, deepening the terror of the other spirits. They wanted to retreat, but could not move a single step; they wanted to advance, but could not cross the river before them.

Nvluo’s gaze swept over the spirits from time to time. Her eyes brightened; there was one spirit who did not show a look of terror—the very same spirit who had been the first to cross the boundary junction.

That spirit watched the River of Oblivion with a calm gaze. There was no fear, no dread—only a resolute determination. He knew that regardless of the dangers ahead, this was the last opportunity he would ever grasp.

Back in Fengdu City, when Shikong was selecting spirits, the dangers of the Path of Rebirth had been outlined—a cruel, unforgiving road where every peril had to be endured, or the final chance would be lost. He had prepared himself before coming, which was why he chose to be the first to challenge the junction.

Now that he was a spirit, how much worse could it get? He would rather vanish than exist as he was now, forever shrouded in the shadow of death. He yearned to live once more on that vibrant land; he hungered to embrace the sunlight again.

Now, facing this new danger, he had prepared for the worst.

Nvluo had been observing him, feeling a sense of admiration. If he maintained such courage, he would surely persist until the end.

Shikong followed Nvluo's gaze and saw the strange spirit.

"Your Highness, he is truly peculiar. Is this the kind of spirit you once spoke of—one who can face death with composure, and even after death, cling tightly to the last spark of life?"

Nvluo’s mind involuntarily conjured another figure—a spirit she had never had the chance to meet. If they could be like this even as spirits, they must have been the elite of the human world.

"Indeed. Only with such spirits do I feel my efforts are not in vain. If they were all like the others, our efforts might be wasted."

After all, such spirits were in the minority. Most would choose to retreat when faced with such danger, or become utterly lost. In truth, these spirits were fortunate; those in the River of Oblivion had no choice at all, cast permanently into an abyss of suffering.

Time ticked by, second by second, and the ferry still did not appear. Shikong grew anxious, seeing the spirits become even more terrified, which in turn made her own heart uneasy.

But Nvluo showed no sign of change. She waited calmly, as if this were not the cold, dark Underworld, but the vibrant earth of the mortal realm.

Shikong did not dare to disturb her. She suppressed her inner turmoil and continued to wait.

Time flowed on, long enough to feel like an entire cycle of reincarnation. Finally, Shikong could not help herself. "Your Highness, could there be some unforeseen change?"

"Of course not. Continue to wait. It will appear soon." Nvluo’s words brought Shikong a measure of peace. Besides, what else was there to do but wait?

Retreat was impossible, and to advance, one had to cross the River of Oblivion. Yet, if she had to wade through those waters, she would rather wait forever. Though she had not touched the water, the mere sight of the spirits' fates made her blood run cold.

Nvluo remained calm, waiting, her expression unyielding and composed.

Little did they know that on the far bank of the river, the King of the Underworld and the God of Sleep were waiting as well.

"Your Majesty, shall we continue to keep them waiting?" The God of Sleep did not understand the King's true intent. Why forbid the ferry from crossing?

If this was a test for the spirits, such a long time was already sufficient. Moreover, the river was more treacherous today than ever before. They had already loosened the restraints on the water, meaning the spirits could briefly break free to the surface, even though they could not escape their fate of being shattered.

The King of the Underworld remained silent. Perhaps only he knew the reason, a reason that could not be explained. He simply hoped she might linger in the Underworld a little longer. That was all.

After a long while, the King said faintly, "Begin." With that, he turned and left, returning to the Palace of the Underworld.

The God of Sleep watched the King depart, lost in thought.

On the river, a small black dot appeared. Compared to the vast expanse of the river, it was almost invisible. The ferry that Nvluo had been anticipating finally appeared.

The boat drew closer inch by inch. A smile appeared in Nvluo’s eyes. They had passed the test; if she had shown any sign of abnormality, the wait might have been even longer.

"Your Highness, this is truly wonderful!" Shikong could not hide her excitement. If there was a ferry, she would not have to touch the terrifying water.

However, when the boat finally reached the bank, Shikong was surprised. Such a small boat—she could hardly believe the Underworld would use such a tiny vessel to carry them across.

"Your Highness, the boat is like this?"

"Indeed, it is." Nvluo nodded. She had taken this very boat when she first arrived.

Once the boat docked, a figure slowly emerged. The silhouette was familiar, yet the expression was somewhat foreign.

Black robes, as mysterious as the sky of the Underworld, flowed with his long hair in the wind. A smile played on his lips, as if meeting an old friend.

Nvluo saw the figure before her and realized it was him. It was the God of Dreams, whom she had not seen for a long time. This was their first meeting since Nvluo had left the Underworld. She had never expected the God of Dreams to appear on the ferry.

The God of Dreams saw Nvluo’s surprised expression, and the smile on his lips deepened.

"Goddess of the Earth, long time no see!"

"God of Dreams, I did not expect to see you again." Nvluo quickly regained her composure. They were no longer standing on opposite sides, and besides, the God of Dreams could no longer easily trap her in the realm of nightmares.

The God of Dreams turned his gaze to Shikong. "This beautiful goddess must be the Goddess of Time. Welcome to the Underworld."

Shikong had been staring at the God of Dreams. "You are the God of Dreams?" She did not understand why he shared the same features as the God of Sleep.

"Is that a problem?" The God of Dreams smiled slightly. That smile made Shikong realize instantly: he was definitely not the God of Sleep. The God of Sleep would never smile like that.

"The God of Sleep and the God of Dreams are brothers," Nvluo explained in a low voice. She had forgotten to explain the three brothers of death to Shikong.