065 City of Reincarnation

The Nether Butterfly seemed to understand her thoughts, fluttering its wings incessantly. Nuoluo gazed at the butterfly. “Oh? Is it protesting? The Nether Butterfly doesn’t want to leave her?”

Even the King of the Underworld looked at the butterfly in surprise. “When did it bond so deeply with her?”

Nuoluo smiled helplessly. There truly was an inexplicable connection between her and the Nether Butterfly! Yet if it didn’t return to the Underworld, what unexpected events might follow?

“Nether Butterfly, I need your support. Go back to the Underworld! Return to the side of the King of the Underworld!” Nuoluo had no choice but to call out to it in her heart, uncertain if it could understand.

The butterfly’s wings stilled, and it nestled in her palm. “It understood!”

Nuoluo was once again astonished—the butterfly really had comprehended her words, yet its silent stillness was a protest in itself.

The King of the Underworld’s gaze darkened further.

“Release the Dream God from captivity!” he demanded abruptly. The Dream God, imprisoned by his own dreams—when the King first heard this, he thought it must be a mistake. He simply could not fathom how such a thing could happen.

Li Ge, however, somewhat understood, recalling Nuoluo’s prior deeds—nothing seemed impossible for her.

The God of Sleep was deeply saddened for the Dream God. It seemed this time, the King would not forgive him easily. He had acted without permission, disrupting the King’s plans, only to be trapped in a dream by Nuoluo herself. What punishment awaited him was yet unknown.

Nuoluo nodded. That was no issue. She hadn’t expected the Dream God would remain ensnared in her dream for so long—her intention had merely been to buy herself some leverage by confining him for a while. Was her dream realm truly so formidable?

“Establish a direct passage from the mortal world to the Underworld,” the King said coldly.

Nuoluo was startled. What was he planning? If such a passage were created, it would mean the Underworld’s power would officially intervene in mortal affairs. All she had considered was that, should a single Underworld deity enter the human world, that god could govern all mortal souls, but would have no roots there.

If a City of Death truly appeared among mortals, what changes would unfold? Might the King use the opportunity to expand his dominion? If so, even if the Sacred Flame of the Earth’s Core were rekindled, the mortal realm would be powerless to withstand the shadow of death. Should anything happen to her, it might mean far more than the appearance of a single City of Death.

Moreover, with the Underworld’s formal intervention, what would the gods’ response be? Though the gods had forbidden all divine interference in the present catastrophe, once a new force joined the fray, they would surely change their minds.

From what she knew of Liu Jia and Lei Ling, they would never let such an opportunity slip by, especially since she still needed something from the gods.

Suddenly, another idea struck Nuoluo. If the King intended to found a City of Death in the mortal world, why not offer the souls lost in this calamity a chance at rebirth?

“Your Majesty’s wish is to build a City of Reincarnation among mortals?”

“A City of Reincarnation?” All the gods drew in a sharp breath. What was she thinking? Once mortals died, their souls entered the Underworld, suffering its punishments until they vanished. A few, driven by obsessions, became vengeful spirits, but even they could never hope for rebirth. If the dead could reincarnate, what would it mean?

Humans could be reborn—ending one life only to regain it in a new form after a few years.

“Earth Goddess, aren’t you being unreasonable?” the King retorted. All present nodded in agreement, even Niaoniao, who felt Nuoluo’s demands were excessive. If humans could reincarnate endlessly, what distinguished them from gods?

The King sensed things had strayed far from his original purpose. All he wanted was to establish the Underworld’s influence in the mortal realm. The Earth Gods, though separate from the pantheon, still belonged to it. If Nuoluo’s power grew here, so too would the gods’ strength, upsetting the present balance. Why would she suggest such a thing—subtly increasing the gods’ influence?

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“Is it excessive?” Nuoluo gave a bitter laugh. She’d only had vague inklings before, but the King’s demands had inspired her. Since the Underworld was not wholly indifferent to mortal affairs, there was hope.

If the King wanted a City of Death, she would turn it into a City of Reincarnation. If humans could be reborn, no matter what befell her, life would persist. Moreover, with the Underworld’s power present, the King would never allow the mortal world’s destruction. In this way, a different kind of balance would be achieved.

She could almost guess what the King was thinking—but this had nothing to do with the gods. She simply wished to preserve the mortal world’s balance and prosperity.

“Your Majesty, consider the innocent who died—so many froze to death. Even as we speak, more perish, all because of me.” Here Nuoluo paused, recalling her inexplicable slumber.

“Because of me, when the Sacred Flame of the Earth’s Core was extinguished, no immediate measures were taken, leading to this mortal catastrophe. As an Earth Goddess, I must bear all the responsibility. Transforming this passage into a City of Reincarnation will grant those innocent souls another chance. Thank you, Your Majesty, for the inspiration. Fear not: even with a City of Reincarnation, the souls of the dead remain under your dominion. Not all may reincarnate—only those who meet the conditions for rebirth. Those guilty of heinous crimes shall still suffer your punishments. From now on, this City will be a bridge between worlds. What say you, Your Majesty?”

Her words deeply shook the King. She did not shirk responsibility, but took it all upon herself. She was, indeed, very different from the gods he knew.

The King considered. At first glance, a City of Reincarnation might seem to weaken the Underworld, but if the souls of the dead remained under his control, he could still expand his influence through regulating rebirth.

He looked to Li Ge and the God of Sleep for their opinions. Li Ge was indifferent; the God of Sleep, however, seemed approving.

The God of Sleep was indeed supportive. This was a compromise both sides could accept. A City of Death would be a declaration of the Underworld’s entry into mortal affairs and provoke the gods’ furious opposition. But a City of Reincarnation would bind mortals and the Underworld together, and knowing Nuoluo, she was far preferable to the so-called gods.

The King nodded but added a condition: “The City of Reincarnation—humans may not interfere. All its affairs remain under the Underworld’s sole control.”

“But I must help set the conditions for reincarnation, and the City may never participate in the destruction of the mortal world. Should it do so, it will be ended at once. Though I need your support, I will never let the shadow of death fall over mortals again.”

The King nodded; this, too, he could accept.

Thus, the basic framework for reincarnation was set, though details remained to be worked out. Accepting reincarnation would mean enduring unimaginable suffering between lives, yet from now on, the good among mortals would have a chance at rebirth. This new order would shape the fate of generations.

The final accord was reached: the King would aid Nuoluo when the Sacred Flame was rekindled, and she would grant the dead a path to rebirth, rather than letting them wander the world in torment.

With hope restored for relighting the Sacred Flame, only the gods’ help remained. If the King agreed to assist, Liu Jia would have no grounds to refuse. At ease, Nuoluo left the Underworld, unafraid of betrayal—the realm of the dead was harsh, but steadfast in its promises.

Before departing, she released the Dream God from her dream’s prison. Upon seeing him again, she could hardly believe her eyes—the once-proud god looked utterly dejected, wilted as a frostbitten plant.

Of course, a certain bird would not let him off so easily.

Niaoniao’s sharp mockery, the torments the Dream God had suffered in Nuoluo’s dream, and his own divine pride reignited his fighting spirit—he swore not to rest until he had his revenge.

Nuoluo left the Underworld at last, leaving the Nether Butterfly behind. Though it trailed her for some time, reluctant to part, it ultimately remained with the King. With Niaoniao by her side, she set forth on a new journey—the final destination: the realm of the gods. There, another contest awaited, one fought without open conflict.

Once more, she crossed the River of Three Crossings. Looking back at the mysterious Underworld, it felt as if a lifetime had passed. Her eyes seemed to pierce the King’s palace, gazing into that secret world below.

She had promised the King never to speak of what she had seen there—about Li Ge, about the guardians, about all she had witnessed. Some secrets were best left forever mysterious. She thought again of that vanished figure, the one who had left the world with a smile. Farewell, Father! Though all about you is now an eternal secret, you remain in the depths of my memory, until my life’s end.

The ferry moved calmly along the river, this time with the God of Sleep himself as ferryman.

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Nuoluo looked at the boat—now revealed in its true form, stripped of its former strangeness, exuding a quietude possible only in the presence of death.

The moment she stepped aboard, an ancient, profound aura enveloped her, heavy with a suffocating power—the true gravity of the Underworld.

She gazed at the riverbank. This time, she no longer feared falling into the river. She wondered how many lost souls would win a second chance, to see the sunlight once more. She thought also of the missing child’s soul, hoping he, too, would be reborn.

The boat moved slowly. No one spoke. Niaoniao’s eyes darted restlessly, yet for once, the bird remained silent.

The God of Sleep said nothing, either. Though he did not look at Nuoluo, he etched her every detail into memory.

She sat quietly on the boat, eyes serene as she watched the scenery pass—a vision of tranquility, so beautiful that none wished to disturb this peace.

At last, the ferry reached the exit of the Underworld. Nuoluo stood, took her leave of the God of Sleep, and, with Niaoniao, stepped from the land of death.

The God of Sleep watched her go, not turning away until she vanished from sight. As he turned, he glimpsed a familiar figure.

The King’s gaze followed after her disappearance.

The God of Sleep left in silence. The King stood alone for a long time, murmuring a single name: “Nuoluo, Mandala Blossom, truly the purest of flowers.”

“Caw, caw, caw—Niaoniao is back!” The very moment they set foot in the mortal realm, Niaoniao let out a shrill cry, heralding its rebirth.

“I can’t stand you—what are you so pleased about?” Back on mortal soil, Nuoluo let herself relax.

“Happy? Of course I’m happy! At last I’ve left that damned world and can see the sun again!” Niaoniao lifted its head. Though the sunlight was weak, compared to the Underworld, everything here was a marvel.

Niaoniao reverted at once to its usual self, circling in constant motion before settling on Nuoluo’s shoulder.

She gave it a sharp smack on the head. “Don’t rejoice too soon. We still have to visit the realm of the gods.”

Niaoniao tilted its head in displeasure, staring ahead once more. “To the gods’ realm we go!”

—End of Volume One—

Author’s Note—

The first volume is complete. I have many feelings. Thank you all for your constant support. Though my writing is slow, I will continue this story with dedication!

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