Chapter 304: Yanluo? Yanluo!

The turbid waters of the Yellow Springs spanned the illusory dimensions, seemingly reflecting the rise and fall of the Seven Nations, threading through the entire course of the era.

And as that invitation from the Yellow Springs concluded, the six Angel Kings departed. The briefly descending myth returned to the haze of history between the real and the unreal.

Only the lingering chill from the Other Shore within the mysterious world remained to prove its descent had ever occurred.

Aside from the six Angel Kings who still harbored lingering fear, no one knew what truly transpired during that feast held in the Yellow Springs.

Even fewer knew how the Storm Angel King—who once walked the world in place of the God of Storms—had fallen silently within that broken Ancestral Hall, his existence completely erased from history.

No one would remember the Storm Angel King’s existence. For those unaware, there was no reason to feel fear.

Yet those six Angel Kings, precisely because they knew too much, would feel all the more terrified.

Under the terrifying might that came with Lu Yan’s slaying of an Angel King, the remaining six, after a brief but intense exchange and weighing of options, ultimately chose to temporarily retreat.

They represented their respective Divine Churches and tacitly permitted the establishment of the Yanluo Hall and the spreading of the Netherworld’s faith within the version of Mysteries.

This meant that—whether it was the propagation of the Netherworld faith among the mortal realm, or the guild’s continued development across the Seven Kingdoms—everything was now allowed.

At least on the surface, there would be no public obstruction or suppression from the Seven Great Divine Churches.

But whether it was those six Angel Kings with their silent agreement, or the calculating Lu Yan, they all understood that this was only a temporary compromise—a momentary calm before the storm.

The Netherworld’s thunderous strike in killing the Storm Angel King did indeed prove it possessed an unfathomable foundation and terrifying power hidden from all eyes.

But that didn’t mean the Netherworld could now rest easy and expand recklessly within the version of Mysteries.

The Storm Angel King’s death would inevitably provoke the wrath of the Storm God, one of the Seven Great True Gods, whose temperament was known to be the most violent and divine will most unyielding.

This god, who had seized the position of “this world’s only one,” would never let such an affront go unpunished.

Once He awakened from slumber or projected more of His power into the present world, the Netherworld would undoubtedly face the Storm God’s fury.

Not only that, but the remaining six True Gods, all participants of the Old Feast, would likewise seize the opportunity to test this suddenly emerging Netherworld and its Emperor of Fengdu more deeply.

Killing an Angel King had only earned the Netherworld the right to share faith in this land—it was merely an entry ticket to join the game.

To truly divide up the authority left behind from the Old Days and to carve out a place at the coming feast, one must be acknowledged by the Seven True Gods—or possess power so great it inspired dread.

However, Lu Yan wasn’t overly concerned.

From his previous conversation with Elizabeth and the unintentional revelations from the Angel Kings, he had already gleaned that the Seven True Gods would fully awaken in about a month.

Before that, their power projection would remain limited and could only intervene through the Angel Kings.

Meanwhile, Lu Yan’s version update progress had already reached 85%, and less than a month remained.

Before the Seven True Gods could fully awaken, Lu Yan would greet the next version update.

Once the world entered that new version, not even the resurrecting Old Ones—let alone the newly awakened Seven Gods—would be able to cross the boundaries of version walls to interfere with Lu Yan.

What’s more, Lu Yan had deliberately left behind enough legends of the Netherworld, and the undeniable deterrent of having slain an Angel King. Until the truth about the Netherworld and the Fengdu Emperor became clear, neither the Seven Divine Churches nor any hidden cults or evil gods would dare easily overthrow the current order.

As long as Lu Yan didn’t disrupt the balance of the Old Feast, the Seven Gods would have little interest in mortal affairs.

Thus, the cooperative relationship between the Victoria Kingdom and the Netherworld—anchoring the faith in the mortal world—would likely remain intact.

Of course, this was merely the best-case scenario.

The world was unpredictable. Should something unexpected arise, Lu Yan wasn’t without preparation. He had already planted hidden contingencies for any sudden change.

Time passed silently amidst the undercurrents and false calm.

With the Divine Churches’ tacit approval and the Victoria royal family granting rights to spread influence to the other six kingdoms, the guild’s momentum ignited like a prairie fire, sweeping across every corner of the Seven Kingdoms and into every layer of mortal society.

After all, the pursuit of a better life—of sustenance, dignity, and fairness—was humanity’s most basic instinct.

And with official support and tangible benefits from the guild, all those oppressed and exploited at the bottom yearned to claim the equality and benefits they deserved.

In such circumstances, the Netherworld faith—complementing the guild’s growth—spread at an unimaginable speed, like spring rain seeping into the hearts of the people, swiftly reaching every town, village, and corner of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.

Wherever the guild appeared, there would be legends of the Netherworld and its believers.

McDonnell City was once just an ordinary industrial city in the Victoria Kingdom.

But with the rise of the workers’ movement and the city’s relative lack of noble presence, it became the first to undergo industrial reform and promote the Netherworld’s faith.

Due to this momentum, the once-ordinary industrial city took on a new and unusual significance.

A grand, magnificent Netherworld temple now stood in the heart of the city.

Unlike the simple temples previously erected by commoners out of humble belief, this one had received official recognition and support from the Victoria Kingdom.

It was personally ordered by Queen Elizabeth, who summoned the nation’s extraordinary craftsmen and presided over its construction.

Originally, the temple was to be built in the capital, Orlank. But due to strong opposition from the Church of Steam, the location was moved to McDonnell.

The temple was grand in scale, solemn in style, and imbued with a mysterious Eastern charm.

Its placement—directly opposite the guild headquarters that symbolized the power of workers—was no coincidence, but an intentional echo.

Every day after factory hours, the temple filled with people—streams of men and women coming and going.

Some came for the free holy meals provided by the temple.

Some were devout believers who had received divine revelations in their dreams.

Others were just ordinary workers looking for company, sharing strange tales from across the land, or simply enjoying the lively atmosphere.

Beneath the warm temple lights, workers enjoyed leisure that previous generations could never have imagined.

Faces relaxed after a long day, they chatted in small groups, discussing the changes brought by the guild and sharing hopes for the future.

Thin strands of faith, like gentle streams, flowed from the hearts of these casual and devout alike, eventually converging upon the central figure of the temple—a statue carved entirely from pure white jade.

That statue, kind and serene, bore the likeness of Anna.

Lu Yan stepped into the bustling temple. Though he walked among the people, he seemed completely detached from the world.

None of the worshippers, workers, or temple staff noticed his presence—as if he were air, or a phantom.

Only when his gaze fell upon the central statue did something change. Within the eyes of that jade figure, a subtle flash of spiritual light flickered.

Then, from within the statue emerged a translucent spirit dressed in white robes—bearing the exact same face as the sculpture.

“Greetings, Your Grace.”

Anna’s figure appeared before Lu Yan, her face full of joy and affection, her gaze brimming with longing and reverence.

Lu Yan’s eyes fell on the tangible faith energy drifting around her.

This vast faith, gathered from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms, was rapidly helping Anna digest the supernatural traits of the Netherworld Path.

Yet it was also subtly corroding her sense of self, gradually shaping her into the merciful holy spirit people believed her to be—no longer the pure little girl she once was.

Lu Yan couldn’t say whether this was good or bad.

It was an inevitable result of using faith to digest supernatural traits—a price one must pay for great power.

He simply reached out and gently patted her ethereal head, a faint trace of sorrow flickering in his eyes.

Time was too short.

Had there been more of it, Anna could’ve progressed more steadily, retaining more of her identity.

But reality allowed no such patience. Were it not for the urgency, she wouldn’t have risked being rapidly assimilated by faith.

Anna seemed to sense Lu Yan’s thoughts. She looked up, her small face solemn.

“Your Grace, this is the path I’ve chosen.

To aid Your Grace makes me happy. You needn’t worry for me.”

Anna already knew—her advancement, her position in the Netherworld Path—was of immense value to Lu Yan.

So without hesitation, she gave up the relative freedom of her soul form and chose to bind herself directly to the statue, spreading faith and punishing evil through dreams—all to digest her traits faster and grow stronger.

“Your Grace,” Anna said firmly, “I have fully digested the traits of the Sin-Adjudicating Officer. I now beseech Your Grace to grant me the next step.”

Lu Yan’s eyes grew serious.

He nodded—for this was indeed why he had come.

“Sequence Seven, Sin-Adjudicating Officer, is already the peak of the Netherworld Path on the mortal level,” he said solemnly.

“To go further is to truly touch the core sequences of the Divine Court of the Netherworld. Are you truly ready to shoulder the responsibility and peril?”

Anna did not hesitate. She knelt with reverence and bowed deeply.

“I beseech Your Grace—grant me the path!”

Lu Yan slowly extended his hand, placing it gently on Anna’s head.

This time, what flowed from his fingers was not mere comfort, but deep power laced with the very essence and authority of the Netherworld.

“Netherworld Path, Sequence Six—titled: Warden of Impermanence!”

Lu Yan’s voice echoed through the temple, yet only Anna could hear it.

“Impermanence—the ever-changing. You walk between yin and yang, witness the cycle of life and death, reap souls and pursue spirits. As part of the Netherworld Court’s sequence, you serve as a chief aide to the Yan King.”

Anna’s form trembled. She looked up, locking eyes with the warm-faced Lu Yan.

This was her first time hearing such detailed information about the true Divine Court of the Netherworld.

Before, even with roles like Wandering Soul, Soul-Reaping Envoy, or Sin-Adjudicating Officer, the knowledge granted was always fragmentary—hazy glimpses of something vast and remote.

Now, infused with pure Netherworld essence and authority, Anna’s supernatural rank began to skyrocket.

Her soul underwent an earth-shaking metamorphosis, her understanding of the Netherworld Path leaping forward at an exponential rate.

Yet this was only the beginning.

Lu Yan’s expression remained calm, but a mighty will radiated from him as he raised a hand into the void.

In that instant, Anna sensed a more fundamental power descending.

It was vast and unfathomable—the will of the entire Netherworld manifesting.

Before it, even she—newly promoted to Warden of Impermanence—felt as insignificant as dust.

Then she felt it: a piece of that vast power had been forcibly “cut off” by Lu Yan in a way she could not comprehend!

That cut, though gentle, bore the might of creation itself.

From that severed essence, Lu Yan shaped and condensed a regal, pitch-black seal in his palm.

The seal was neither gold nor jade but radiated a cold, heavy aura, as if it bore the weight of all wandering souls and the order of the underworld itself.

On its base, two archaic yet powerful characters were etched—阎罗 (Yanluo).

Every stroke radiated ultimate judgment over life and death, mastery over reincarnation.

Just seeing this seal made Anna’s soul tremble—a primal reverence and submission.

She understood: this was no ordinary power.

This was a core piece of authority from the Divine Court of the Netherworld.

Lu Yan held the black Yanluo Seal, his gaze resting upon Anna. His voice was calm, yet penetrated to the soul:

“I shall establish the Fifth Hall of the Ten Halls of Yanluo in this world. You, the sole Warden of Impermanence, shall hold office in the Divine Court of the Netherworld and bear the authority of the Yan King.”

“You shall be—”

“The Yanluo Queen!”

(End of Chapter)