Unlike the wilderness Lumian and company had passed through earlier, strewn with grayish-white rocks, the soil on this side of the River Styx was pitch black. There were no withered blood-colored flowers, no ghostly skeletons, and no decaying corpses to be seen.
The sky above was no longer lit by pale, dim, cold "sunlight." Instead, a rich darkness dominated this boundless world.
Deep within the darkness, clusters of pale-white, greenish-hued flames hung quietly in midair, spaced far apart as if serving as street lamps.
Using the illumination from the nearest pale flame, Lumian quickly leaped from the gloomy boat to the shore.
Once his feet hit solid ground, his heart steadied considerably. As he crossed the River Styx, the scent of death in his undead body became more intense and evident, while his spirit and consciousness, tightly protected by the Eggers family's golden mask, felt a slight chill.
