In the square of the Shadow Moon Hermitage.
Ye Qinghong was about to knock his master unconscious with a sword, but before the blade could fall, he sensed that something was amiss.
He instantly withdrew the Qingying Sword, and his cool eyes looked around, just in time to see shadows creeping forward like the tide, continuously surging toward this place.
The waters of the Underworld River, endless and unceasing.
Sinister, eerie, with a bone-chilling force.
They flowed across the floor, through the hall after hall.
As these halls were infiltrated by the waters of the Underworld River, the originally colourful and sandalwood-scented temples also began to corrode.
Under the grasp of countless black hands, they steadily sank into the Underworld River.
Creak! Creak!
The grating noise sounded, and before long, temple after temple completely submerged in the river.
Reflected by the waters of the Underworld River, they ultimately became part of its architecture.
