“Dog eyes are all blind.” The ignored Julian West thought silently to himself.

Looking from afar, he saw that all the clans seemed to have come to an agreement: the underworld’s ghost messengers had become cannon fodder, unanimously squeezed into the spot meant to distract Spirit Mask and the other ghosts, and by now, nearly half of them had been killed or wounded.

Julian West watched coldly from the sidelines, feeling that the opera costumes of the Ten Yama Kings, with their gaudy colors, played a crucial role in drawing hatred.

Yet even as fragments, chaos was still extremely formidable. Whether immortal or ghost, everyone avoided its edge; those who couldn’t dodge were silently swallowed up, not even a hair left behind—as if chaos made anything cease to have ever existed.

Julian West watched as King Grimcourt was forced to the limit by a fragment of chaos, and with a “plop,” fell into the waters of the River of Forgetfulness. His huge robe sleeves buoyed him up, making him look like a piece of rainbow candy soaked and swollen.

At that moment, a huge net suddenly surfaced from the River of Forgetfulness, like a giant fishing net, lifting King Grimcourt out of the water. Soaked and scrambling, he crawled ashore, only to see that the elites of all the clans had somehow taken up positions at the Sage's Wheel, and while the underworld’s people were distracted, had set up this massive net.

Julian West: “Amitabha, what is that thing?”

William Sherman’s voice suddenly sounded behind him: “It’s the Sage’s Web.”

Julian West was startled by his sudden voice, his hand trembling so much the binoculars nearly fell. He turned around and forced a laugh: “So, uh, you’re done with your business?”

Logan Sullivan “accidentally” stepped on his foot.

William Sherman didn’t mind the teasing and continued, “It should be something brought by the demon clan. Legend has it that Fuxi originated in the Eastern Lands, and only after being canonized did Chiyou appear. After Chiyou came the witch and demon clans. After Taihao’s death, he left behind the Faelan’s Bow and the Eight Trigrams. The Faelan’s Bow was later taken by Hou Yi and ended up with the human clan. So, it seems the Eight Trigrams Net is a secret of the demon clan, just as I thought—each clan really does have some trump card up their sleeve.”

As he spoke, with the Eight Trigrams Net surfacing, the chaos fragments seemed to shrink back, retreating for the first time. Spirit Mask hung high in the air, the face painted on the mask twisting.

Suddenly, the entire Eight Trigrams Net burst into golden light. Julian West was startled and whispered, “That’s the Buddha's Golden Seal worshipped in the West… the legendary last treasure to suppress evil in the Age of Dharma Decline.”

Golden light flooded everywhere, filling the entire underworld. The little lamps along the Yellow Springs Road, which had gone out at some point, were lit again—this time, the flames were much brighter, like a fire dragon sweeping its tail along the road, instantly forming a circle.

All the chaos fragments, along with countless ghosts, were sucked into the giant net in an instant, except for the Wraith King, who had somehow made it to the Hall of Yama and remained untouched.

He was indeed formidable, but had made himself a lone commander.

William Sherman sighed softly: “It’s settled. Let’s go.”

The fight was over.

Julian West had already started to leave with them, but he couldn’t shake a strange, uneasy feeling, as if something was about to happen. Instinctively, he raised his binoculars and glanced back, only to see Spirit Mask’s face showing an expression that was both about to cry and laugh.

Suddenly, the mask split down the middle, falling away in two halves, revealing a face very similar to William Sherman, but much gloomier. His robe billowed without wind, snapping like a flag.

“Very good,” Julian West heard him say hoarsely, “You’ve won. I can’t beat you. You never even cared to fight me—very good.”

William Sherman stopped in his tracks.

“You and I were born the same. I don’t understand how I’m inferior to you. You are the proud and noble Soulwarden, I am the Wraith King whom all want dead—that’s nothing.” Spirit Mask let out a low laugh. “Of course it’s nothing. I am the Wraith King of the earth’s heart, able to kill gods, men, and spirits alike! I just hate that you’re so despicable, you don’t even have the courage to fight me yourself, and instead use these ants to humiliate me.”

“You’ll regret it.” He suddenly laughed low, “You think you’ve won without a fight? You’ll regret it, my good brother.”

His body suddenly grew dozens of meters tall, like a mountain, and then a muffled roar came from deep underground, rumbling up to the surface like thunder.

William Sherman’s expression suddenly changed.

Spirit Mask burst out laughing, and his body suddenly shattered into countless pieces. The earth shook violently, and the Sage’s Web that had trapped the chaos fragments broke.

Chapter 104: Soulbound Lamp …

Charles Gray clutched the little electric baton Logan Sullivan had given him, still not recovered from the terror that had left his hands and feet icy cold—just now, he had zapped a ghost beast that had nearly gotten face-to-face with him into a charred pancake.

And the young man who had just been joking with them had turned into a monster—his mouth could open one hundred and eighty degrees, his whole head barely attached at a single point, as if split in two, revealing a crimson tongue and a mouthful of fangs.

Collecting the souls of the dead in an empty town already sounded terrifying enough, but who knew that was just the mild part—the real horror was yet to come.

Carter Shaw dodged a stray spark from Charles Gray’s baton that nearly hit an ally, then shoved his satchel into his arms: “Took me ages to save this up. You hold it, don’t break it.”

Charles Gray’s hands shook like he had Parkinson’s, and in the end, he could only clutch the whole bag to his chest.

Carter Shaw asked seriously, “Are you scared?”

Charles Gray nodded honestly.

Carter Shaw: “Scared to death?”

Charles Gray looked like he was about to cry, and nodded again.

“Excellent,” said Carter Shaw. “Keep it up.”

Charles Gray: “……”

With this distraction, the indiscriminate attacks from the baton weakened. Carter Shaw caught this from the corner of his eye, and suddenly slapped Charles Gray on the shoulder, pointing behind him in a sinister voice: “Look, what’s that?”

It was a few ghost beasts still some distance away. Charles Gray had already been three parts afraid, but Carter Shaw’s scare caught him off guard. He spun around, nearly scared out of his wits, and let out an inhuman scream: “Aaaahhhhhh—”

At the same time, he zapped and maimed several ghosts who had been running over, hoping for a meal.

Turning fear into strength—say what you will, their leader might be a bit of an idiot, but he did know how to make the most of his resources.

Carter Shaw gave Charles Gray a thumbs up, then, moving faster than the eye could see, leapt onto the roof of a row of villas, tossed down his winter coat, and revealed an arm under his shirt sleeve that had turned an eerie blue.

Carter Shaw flexed his fingers, his joints cracking stiffly. Then he pulled out a bone-carved flute, and the corners of his now blue-purple lips curled into an indescribably sinister smile. A string of strange notes flowed from his fingertips, and the once-still ground began to ripple. The “dust” covering the town slowly floated up, quickly gathering together, forming complete skeletons in midair. Some landed beside Charles Gray, while others charged at the mysterious young man.

By now, the “young man’s” eyes were completely red. He squinted at Carter Shaw: “Corpse King.”

Carter Shaw ignored him. The flute’s sound suddenly sharpened, and several skeletons attacked. One skeleton’s sharp finger bone stabbed at the young man’s chest, but he moved like a ghost, vanishing instantly, and the skeleton’s finger poked five small holes in the ground.

The young man then counterattacked with a heavy punch. The skeleton couldn’t react in time and was smashed to pieces, bones scattering everywhere.

Yet, with the flute’s music, the scattered bones reassembled themselves and joined their companions in entangling the young man again.

The young man’s limbs were as hard as stone; every punch and kick shattered a skeleton on the spot. But the skeletons summoned by Carter Shaw were formed from the town’s ashes—no matter how many times they were broken, they could reassemble. Their attack power wasn’t high, but their ability to entangle was top-notch. If the young man slipped up even a little, a skeleton’s sharp finger bone could pierce right through him.

The young man suddenly sneered, “It’s one thing for others, but you—a Corpse King burdened with heavy crimes and death energy—have joined the Soulbound Order? Don’t you find it laughable? When you slaughtered and feasted on corpses, why didn’t you act so self-righteous?”

“I’ve already atoned for my sins,” Carter Shaw said, though at this moment he still instinctively glanced at Charles Gray, seeing the young man flustered and struggling with the endless ghost beasts, not having heard this. For some reason, he breathed a sigh of relief. “And what are you supposed to be?”