036 A Familiar Encounter (3)

A voice both familiar and strange echoed through the hall, yet Nuoluo could not recall when she had ever heard it before. Now she had broken through two layers of the Underworld King's barriers. If she had indeed entered the Underworld King's temple, then the speaker could only be—the Underworld King.

He was the Underworld King.

“You have trespassed into my realm. What is your purpose?” The Underworld King still did not reveal himself, hidden from Nuoluo’s sight.

His voice betrayed no emotion, cold as the waters of the River of Three Crossings.

“Your Majesty, I have come for the Underworld Fire,” Nuoluo replied. She thought of all she had encountered since entering the underworld, of the countless times she wandered between illusion and reality, of every arduous step she had taken. Now, standing finally in the Underworld King’s temple, she faced him without pretense, without retreat, without fear. She came for the Underworld Fire—nothing else.

Silence. A deathly silence.

The Underworld King did not speak, nor could Nuoluo see him. She felt as though she were performing a solitary monologue, her lonely figure standing in the vast expanse of the temple, utterly unsupported.

Suddenly, a swirl of black mist appeared before her, a vague silhouette within. The mist gradually dissipated, and the figure emerged. She finally saw the Underworld King, the true master of the underworld.

His black robes cast his form into deeper mystery. Where there is light, there is shadow; in the places untouched by light, darkness reigns. The power of darkness is formidable, as embodied by the Underworld King wrapped in black.

His flowing jet-black hair was tied simply at the nape with a single purple ribbon, the long ribbon weaving through his locks and emitting an unusual glow. Nuoluo gazed at this ribbon, its strange shade of purple identical to the flower she had seen within the Underworld King’s barrier—pure and bewitching. This unique color she was seeing for the second time; did it carry some special meaning?

His exquisite features were the finest work of heaven and earth. Standing before him, Nuoluo felt a pang of inferiority—who could have guessed the lord of the dead possessed such a striking appearance? Anyone confronting the Underworld King would feel an invisible pressure. Now, a word came to Nuoluo’s mind: demon. It was the most remarkable visage she had ever seen.

Nuoluo finally ceased her fanciful imagining, for she noticed the Underworld King’s eyes had turned displeased.

He watched her, and as his gaze met her unmoving eyes, he understood what occupied her thoughts. It was not surprising—his own appearance was indeed unusual. He did not know why he had not assumed another form, or why, deep down, he wished to confront Nuoluo as his true self.

Nuoluo looked into his eyes, bright as the stars in the night sky, a light amidst darkness. Seeing those eyes, something stirred in her memory. “It’s you!” she exclaimed, suddenly recalling who he was.

The man in black she’d encountered on Sunset Mountain. Though his appearance had changed somewhat, his eyes remained unmistakable—eyes once seen and never forgotten.

So, they had already met on Sunset Mountain, no wonder his voice felt so familiar to her now.

She had speculated about the true identity of that man at the time, never imagining he was the Underworld King.

That journey to Sunset Mountain, the Underworld King, Liu Jia, and herself had all appeared at the same moment. The rulers of the three realms gathered at that mysterious Sunset Inn.

Suddenly thinking of Liu Jia, Nuoluo felt a pang of loss. When a cherished trust is shattered in an instant, perhaps only time can heal the wound.

---

Why had the Underworld King appeared on Sunset Mountain? Was it for tempering himself, or did he, like her, seek the Sacred Earth Fire?

Seeing Nuoluo recognize him, the Underworld King too recalled the flame-clad woman he had met on Sunset Mountain—not the one now shrouded in tattered black robes, but a figure blazing like fire.

“Show me your true form. That’s not an unreasonable request, is it?” the Underworld King suddenly said, wishing to see her real appearance.

Nuoluo was surprised by the strange request. He wanted her to reveal her true face—was his own appearance genuine?

Sensing her hesitation, the Underworld King said bluntly, “If that’s so, you may leave. Do not return to the underworld again, or the consequences will be more than you can bear.”

Nuoluo did not understand his thoughts. In truth, gods often appear in alternate forms among mortals; their true selves are mysterious, as only the true form embodies their greatest power. Only in moments of utmost importance do they reveal themselves.

“To obtain the Underworld Fire, one must do so in their most authentic state.”

Before the Underworld Fire, all concealment fades. Its flame carries no warmth, perhaps even coldness. When it tears away every veil, only the singular truth remains.

Nuoluo gestured for the Underworld King to turn away; it was the first time she would reveal her true form before a stranger.

Her tattered black robes instantly shifted in color—dazzling red, radiant like fire, flared through the temple.

With his back to Nuoluo, the Underworld King suddenly sensed a familiar hue behind him—his familiar red.

Her black hair turned to mature gold, the symbol of abundance.

In the instant the gold appeared, Nuoluo felt as though she had returned to the human world; it had been so long since she last saw her golden hair.

Her features transformed as well, restored to her original self.

When the Underworld King turned, he saw a scene that would be etched in his memory for life.

Red robes brighter than fire, golden hair alluring, and eyes fluid as streams shimmering with starlight.

It was the abundance found only in the human realm, the vitality unique to that living land.

This was the true meeting of the Underworld King and the Goddess of the Earth, face to face in their most authentic forms.

The Underworld King ruled the underworld, master of death’s power. His black robes were the color of night, the shade beyond light. In places where light cannot reach, he alone is sovereign.

The world of the dead holds no hope, only slaughter.

The world of the dead contains no color, only darkness.

---

The world of the dead has no future, only the past.

Nuoluo is the hope of the human realm. From the day she became the Goddess of the Earth—be it the inherited bloodline of the earth gods or her own nature—since she took command of the human world, the power of life has always surrounded her. She is even the symbol of human light.

The human world is filled with hope, without slaughter.

The human world is vibrant, without darkness.

The human world looks to the future, leaving the past behind.

These have always been Nuoluo’s goals—she strives to create a paradise teeming with life. Though she faces many hardships, though some goals remain unfulfilled, though some hopes are yet unrealized, the earth god lineage’s legacy flows in her veins. It is the endless transmission of life.

Now, the powers of light and darkness finally meet in the Underworld King’s temple.

The eternal temple bears witness to this extraordinary moment—perhaps too precious, perhaps this gaze exchanged is too rare, perhaps such a meeting is too difficult to attain.

Time stood still; no sound disturbed them. They simply gazed at each other, each looking upon the figure who might alter the trajectory of their fate.

For a moment, neither spoke. In the hush, only the sound of heartbeats could be heard. Nuoluo was astonished to realize she heard another heartbeat besides her own—such knowledge shocked her. Did the Underworld King experience emotional change?

She stared into his enigmatic eyes, hoping to find the answers she sought, yet discovered nothing.

The uncanny scene lingered until Nuoluo broke the silence. She had questions.

“Did you know my identity from the moment at Sunset Mountain? Is that why my steps in the underworld were so arduous?” Nuoluo was curious how he had discovered her true self. Now that they had met before, it was not surprising that the Underworld King faced her here so naturally.

The Underworld King did not reply at first; he merely watched Nuoluo calmly. Her eyes never wavered from his. At last, he decided to answer.

“Since the Sacred Earth Fire in the human realm was extinguished, I knew this day would come—that the fire must be rekindled. The Underworld Fire is essential, but first, one must return alive from Sunset Mountain. From what I know, few have succeeded in challenging Sunset Mountain and escaping unscathed these years. I was curious which goddess from the divine realm would go there. I always thought it would be the Empress herself, but the answer, while unexpected, was also inevitable. In this matter, the urgency is clear.”

In truth, there was something the Underworld King did not voice: the Empress’s selfishness was known even to him. Such a matter, one that affected the survival of the human realm, should have been the responsibility of the highest goddess in the divine realm. It should have been the Empress who went to Sunset Mountain, but as rumor had it, she did not. The true one to make the journey was the Goddess of the Earth.

Perhaps the divine realm was not as pure as it appeared—beneath the interplay of light and shadow, there are always things that cannot withstand scrutiny.

Nuoluo would never explain why the Empress did not go to Sunset Mountain. Some matters she never wished to recall; every memory of such things brought the sting of betrayal. The divine realm, supposedly sacred, was rife with intrigue and betrayal, a struggle masked as a contest for power and benefit. She deliberately chose to forget the past.