Chapter Fifty-Four: The Lord of the City of Unjust Deaths

The voice sounded utterly terrifying, so much so that it sent an involuntary chill deep into one’s soul. At that moment, beneath me, a pair of enormous skeletal hands emerged. It was these very hands that forcefully dragged me out of the River of Sin and Sorrow, gripping me tightly and suspending me high in the air.

“Monkey!”

The Ghost-faced Marquis ignored the voice coming from beyond the city wall, turning instead to call out to the monkey perched on his shoulder. At his cry, the monkey let out two sharp screeches and, in a blur of motion, leapt toward me.

Its movements were swift as lightning, circling deftly around the skeletal hands. I heard the brittle crackling of bones shattering, and in the next instant, the skeletal hands crumbled into powder, releasing me so that I plummeted toward the River of Sin and Sorrow again.

Yet before I fell, countless skeletal hands rose once more from the river. The monkey shrieked, darted through the air, and caught me, bringing me safely back to solid ground.

Now, my gaze shifted to the city wall of Wasted Souls City. Atop the battlements sat a burly man draped in a scarlet cloak. From such a distance, I couldn't make out his features, but the blood-red cloak and his long crimson hair lent him an unearthly, almost demonic aura.

Nestled in his arms was a seductive, voluptuous woman. Though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell by her bearing that she must be a beauty beyond compare.

Standing behind the man was the Yin-Yang Scholar, and beside him, a large contingent of soldiers clad in red armor—ghostly warriors of the underworld.

“Lord of Wasted Souls City!”

Looking at the red-haired man, I had already guessed his identity.

Seeing that I was unable to leave the River of Sin and Sorrow, the Ghost-faced Marquis sighed heavily. His entire body tensed, and a thick aura of death began to seep from him, swirling around his form.

From the other side, the Lord of Wasted Souls City sighed, his voice drifting over: “Ghost-faced Marquis, you’ve truly disappointed me. Are you really going to betray me?”

“Monkey, no matter what, take him and leave!”

Suddenly, the Ghost-faced Marquis turned to the monkey, his voice rife with the finality of farewell. The monkey’s eyes, already crimson, grew even redder; it scratched its head and stamped its feet, clearly reluctant.

“Obey!”

The monkey let out another pair of unwilling screeches, but finally seized me and bolted back toward the River of Sin and Sorrow.

The river’s surface was still a writhing mass of skeletal hands, clawing and grasping. The monkey roared and, with blinding speed, shattered the attacking hands, trying to forge a path through. But there were simply too many; any passageway cleared was instantly blocked by fresh hands, making escape impossible for now.

Meanwhile, the Ghost-faced Marquis, shrouded in his deathly aura, charged toward the tower of Wasted Souls City. Waves of red-armored ghost soldiers leapt down to intercept him, but the moment they drew near, his aura annihilated them, reducing them to fragments.

With a few bounding steps, the Ghost-faced Marquis vaulted onto the tower and struck a mighty blow at the Lord of Wasted Souls City.

The lord did not move. Instead, the enchanting ghost woman by his side blanched with terror, while the Yin-Yang Scholar hastily opened his paper fan and stepped protectively in front of his master.

“Scholar, deal with the monkey. I wish to have a proper conversation with the Ghost-faced Marquis.”

The Yin-Yang Scholar immediately assented, leaping from the tower and heading toward the River of Sin and Sorrow.

Back on the tower, the Lord of Wasted Souls City sighed again. “Ghost-face, it’s been twenty years, hasn’t it? To tell you the truth, for all these years, I’ve regarded you as my dearest confidant.”

The Ghost-faced Marquis gave no answer, drawing his dark aura back into his body. Without ceremony, he seated himself opposite the lord, who, with a wave of his hand, conjured a fine flask of wine on a gilded table. “Will you not share one last drink with your brother?”

The Ghost-faced Marquis did not refuse, immediately lifting the cup. As he was about to drink, the lord suddenly asked, “Aren’t you afraid I might have poisoned it?”

Without hesitation, the Ghost-faced Marquis drained the cup in one gulp. The Lord of Wasted Souls City burst into hearty laughter. “That’s exactly why I admire you—such a pity, though. Our paths diverge too greatly.”

With these words, the lord’s gaze shifted, steely and cold, toward the River of Sin and Sorrow. “Today, the Seal of the King of Hell will be mine. But before that, I want the boy who has haunted your thoughts these twenty years to perform for you a most spectacular act of choice and consequence!”

Sensing what might be coming, the Ghost-faced Marquis’s aura began to swirl outward once more.

Meanwhile, the Yin-Yang Scholar was already upon us, his face split evenly into black and white, twisted into a chilling, sinister grin.

The monkey spread its long arms in front of me, eyes blazing red as it fixed its furious gaze on the scholar, screeching defiantly.

With a savage roar, the monkey launched itself at the Yin-Yang Scholar like a cannonball. In mere moments, as before, it tore the scholar to pieces.

But in the blink of an eye, the scholar’s shattered body reassembled itself. He grimaced in pain, yet his expression grew only more sinister and cruel.

“Monkey, did you really think I was afraid of you? Until now, I spared you only out of respect for the lord. But since you and the Ghost-faced Marquis have chosen betrayal, don’t blame me for showing no mercy!”

As soon as he finished speaking, the Yin-Yang Scholar flashed toward the monkey. The monkey lunged to meet him, but in that instant, the scholar’s body fragmented into countless pieces, causing the monkey’s attack to miss entirely.

“Do you know what it means to be sliced to death?” The scholar’s eerie laughter echoed all around. “Over two hundred years ago, during the Yongzheng Emperor’s literary inquisition, I was implicated by a single poem—‘The breeze knows no characters, so why bother leafing through books?’ My entire clan was executed. In my final moments, I cursed Yongzheng for his tyranny and prophesied the fall of the Qing. For that, I was sliced to death, tortured to oblivion. My rage never faded, and though I sought vengeance in the afterlife, his imperial fate protected him. Ultimately, I ended up here in Wasted Souls City.

“For two centuries, my tortured flesh withered to bones, but my soul endured the same grisly fate. Yet, as fortune would have it, the agony of that punishment granted me this supernatural power. Monkey, you can tear me apart as many times as you like—you will never be able to kill me.”

As he spoke, the Yin-Yang Scholar’s body reconstituted itself behind the monkey. With a deranged cackle, he struck the monkey heavily on the crown of its head.

I barely had time to shout a warning, nor did the monkey have a chance to react, before I heard the sickening crunch of bone. In the next instant, the monkey spat out a mouthful of black blood.

The monkey collapsed, twitching weakly on the ground, unable to rise. I couldn’t tell if it was dead or alive, but it was clearly gravely injured.

I rushed to its side, only for the Yin-Yang Scholar to block my path, lazily fanning himself and hissing at me, “The Seal of the King of Hell!”

I instinctively stepped back. As the scholar prepared to attack, a thunderous voice boomed from the city tower, shaking my eardrums: the Lord of Wasted Souls City.

“Scholar, stand down. I have a show to stage.”

At that moment, a tremendous crash erupted from the tower as two powerful auras exploded, instantly obliterating the surrounding red-armored ghost soldiers. A black and a red figure clashed atop the tower with blinding speed—it was the Ghost-faced Marquis locked in combat with the Lord of Wasted Souls City.

Their duel was over almost as soon as it began. With casual ease, the Lord of Wasted Souls City landed a blow on the Ghost-faced Marquis’s chest, sending him hurtling from the ramparts. Before he even hit the ground, the lord leapt down and seized him by the throat.

“Nine Yin Severed Veins!” the lord suddenly called out to me. “Do you want to know who the man behind the ghost mask truly is? You’ll be shocked when you find out.”

My heart pounded, but before I could respond, I heard the sound of cracking. The mask the Ghost-faced Marquis always wore split in two, and as it fell away, revealing his true face, I was struck dumb with disbelief!