034 A Familiar Encounter (1)

With a heart full of unease and guilt-ridden sorrow, Nüluo departed in silence.

Her leaving silhouette was steeped in sadness. She fought to suppress the searing pain within and chose to walk another path. At last, she turned once more to gaze back at the temple, at the place now vanished from sight. She knew that, somewhere in that shadowy corner, her companion was waiting for her return, longing for rescue.

The grand architecture dwarfed her petite figure. The wisp of a form seemed almost nonexistent before this palace—alone, lying in a cramped side hall like a mote of dust lost in smoke, its every trace nearly erased. Yet still, it struggled to survive, using the faintest breath to prove its persistence, its courage to never surrender, its tenacity for life.

Nüluo could almost imagine the indignant cry of that unyielding soul, its unique magical resonance proclaiming its existence.

She could not help but wonder: if the wisp awakened safely, what havoc would it wreak, given its temperament? The thought calmed her somewhat. The wisp would not give up easily—just like herself.

No matter what, for now, the wisp was safe. She still had time. As long as she possessed what the God of Sleep desired, she held one final bargaining chip.

The road ahead stretched endlessly, as if the faintest light was drawn into a vast whirlpool, swallowed by eternal darkness. She yearned to struggle, to break free of her bonds. The skies above the Underworld were shrouded in gloom; a colossal shadow descended from the farthest edge of the heavens, eclipsing all.

In comparison to such darkness, her own form was minuscule—so small, it seemed it would be swallowed forever in the next instant.

But there was a power called hope, a force named longing.

She could not give up here—not while something tethered her heart, not while responsibility remained.

Summoning her strength anew, Nüluo vanished once more into the darkness, concealing her presence as she pressed onward.

At the banks of the River of Three Crossings, the Lord of the Underworld stood like a statue, his upright figure watching the river’s flow in silence.

He found no trace upon the shore; all evidence of Nüluo had vanished utterly. The spot where he now stood was the last place her aura had lingered.

He had been here a long while, pondering a single question: “Where is she now?” All clues ended here, as if she had simply vanished into thin air.

Everything had exceeded his expectations—her power had grown yet again.

Even the spirits in the river had changed. They seemed to have just endured something dreadful. What, he wondered, could possibly frighten even these vengeful souls?

They darted about, as if evading some unseen terror. Watching their panic, the Lord of the Underworld recalled something.

The surface of the river had resumed its usual calm, yet only the spirits within knew: once even the slightest change occurs, the old trajectory is forever altered. There is no returning; events will proceed along an entirely new path, never ceasing.

The Lord of the Underworld’s figure faded away. Since no useful information could be gleaned here, he would wait in his palace for her. As master of the Underworld, he now looked forward even more to meeting Nüluo, to see if she would bring another surprise.

Nüluo’s figure darted through the mountains, swift as lightning, until at last she reached the highest peak in the Underworld. She looked up at the palace of the Lord of the Underworld.

To see the temple in reality once more filled her with awe. Towering palace walls and pitch-black gates enshrouded all within, exuding the dominion of a true sovereign, just like its master. The endless, overlapping halls seemed like a series of interwoven mirages.

Again, Nüluo felt her own insignificance—like a speck of dust.

Silence reigned.

Standing before the palace gates, she could even hear the beating of her own heart.

Nüluo took care not to disturb the tranquility, for she knew that the slightest sound would shatter the stillness, and in the next instant, unknown dangers would surge toward her like a tide. The stillness before a storm is always the most terrifying.

Within the quiet air, it felt as if a great vortex drew her gaze—a sensation she’d felt since first glimpsing this place from afar. She wondered at its strangeness—why did she feel so inexplicably drawn?

A familiar aura, a strange sensation. The grand palace lacked even a single visible guard, not a soul in sight besides herself. Were they all lurking in the shadows?

Nüluo took a deep breath, lifted her foot, and advanced. Soon, she found the answer. No wonder no one was visible; no wonder there were no guards.

With her first step forward, an invisible barrier blocked her path, instantly freezing her in place. She could not move an inch.

It was as if she were a fish ensnared in a net—a powerful mesh sealing every exit. She struggled desperately, desperate to break free of her bonds, desperate to flee this perilous place, but to no avail.

She now felt just like that fish, the intangible barrier enveloping her, unseen and unfelt, yet all too real.

She tried to advance but could not, tried to retreat but was helplessly drawn by the barrier’s power—caught in a dilemma.

A chill ran through her—was she to remain like this until discovered?

Trapped, Nüluo summoned her spiritual power. As a protective shield formed around her, a strange phenomenon occurred. The force she called forth seemed to repel that of the Underworld Lord’s barrier. The two extreme powers collided, creating a tremendous backlash.

Like a kite with a severed string, she lost control, flung far away in a wild arc across the sky before barely regaining her balance and landing on the ground.

Back outside the barrier, she stood where she’d touched it, only a small step back from before. Staring at the imposing palace, unchanged, she realized this was her first true encounter with the Lord of the Underworld’s power.

When her own shield met his, she felt a surge of dark force so overwhelming it nearly snuffed out all hope.

Their powers hailed from opposite extremes of this world—her “life” against his “death.”

And this was only the very outer edge of the palace. If she truly set foot inside, how much more formidable would the power be?

This time, Nüluo carefully calculated her distance. When her shield did not touch the Lord’s barrier, she sensed nothing. She stretched out a finger—just as she expected, the moment the two barriers met, a torrent of force surged at her, swallowing all in its path. Once again, she felt as if she could not breathe.

Fortunately, she was prepared this time, reinforcing her protection. Otherwise, the result would have been the same as before.

Attempt after attempt ended in failure, and this realization troubled Nüluo. Yet, to her relief, she gradually discerned the flaws in the barrier. After countless failures, she could finally locate its seams.

The invisible shield kept her at bay, the Lord’s palace so near yet as distant as the far shore of the River of Three Crossings—close enough to touch, yet as unreachable as another world.

Though she had found the seams in the barrier, they shifted rapidly; what she sensed one moment vanished the next.

Standing before the massive palace gates, Nüluo could only rely on intuition to sense the invisible opening, tracing its path bit by bit, tracking its movement little by little.

It was as if she was performing a solitary play—illusory barriers, intangible resistance, unseen forces made manifest before her.

She lost all sense of time, adjusting her shield with utmost care. If her protection grew too strong, the barrier’s recoil intensified as well.

Everything required patient exploration, but she was beginning to comprehend the shifts in the seam.

The gap kept shifting, but at last, she seized her chance—a fleeting pause in the movement. In that instant, she gripped the opening and wrenched it apart, forcing an entrance just large enough for her to slip through. The Lord’s barrier retaliated with a tremendous backlash; Nüluo felt every inch of her skin bear the crushing force, nearly suffocating her.

The tidal wave of power crashed over her, nearly drowning her in its onslaught.

She forgot her pain, forgot everything, clinging desperately to this rare opportunity, forcing her way through the breach at the cost of nearly all her strength. With great difficulty, she passed through the barrier.

The moment she succeeded, the surging power receded, the barrier’s force vanished utterly, as if it had never existed, leaving not a trace behind.

She glanced back—the tranquil scene outside remained unchanged. The Lord’s palace stood as mysterious as ever, quietly awaiting.

Only Nüluo knew the barrier still existed. Only she knew how powerful it truly was—strong enough to nearly tear her to pieces.

The invisible threat had finally faded. Though she could not be certain it was truly gone, for now, at least, she could breathe a sigh of relief.