Chapter 153: The World After Death

When I opened my eyes again, the scenery before me had changed dramatically.

Underfoot was a sea of crimson flowers blooming like blood, embracing a winding river that flowed like mist, disappearing into the distant fog.

Beneath a sky devoid of sun and moon, the world was dimly lit, with a light as pale as dusk spreading in every corner, bringing a sense of gloom and sorrow.

“This place is…?”

The figure known as the Soul fell into contemplation.

He should have been atop the snowy peaks of the Holy Berghen Mountains, battling with that ancient and powerful being hailed as the Spiritual Fox Priestess.

Just one strike was all it would take to catch her.

Yet, at the moment he drew his sword, the sudden sound of silver bells and a gentle song grasped his throat like an iron claw, rendering him breathless, his mind nearly blank. When he regained awareness, he found himself here.

To be honest, he struggled to understand his current situation.

If he had indeed taken that strike, he would surely still be on the snowy peak now, and even if he had failed, death is like turning off a light—how could he still be contemplating as he was now?

Instinctively, the Soul glanced at his left thumb.

There should have been the family heirloom, the “Eternal Jade,” meant to be worn there. This artifact could only be used by his clan, maximizing the dormant immortal power within their bloodline, allowing for healing of injuries.

If fully activated, even if the wearer died from external forces, the power contained within the “Eternal Jade” could breathe life back into the remains, granting a second chance at life.

That was why he had been confident he could withstand the Spiritual Fox Priestess’s strike.

After all, no matter how strong the enemy was, death was the worst that could happen. While the revival from the “Eternal Jade” wasn’t omnipotent, and the Soul didn’t possess the ability to fully unleash his bloodline’s potential, there was no deep-seated animosity between them. Surely, Miss Xī wouldn’t reduce him to ashes right off the bat?

But now, it seemed the outcome was far beyond what he expected.

The artifact was absent from his thumb, and even his “hand” itself appeared somewhat ethereal, tinged with a hollow hue, as if formed of mist, ready to dissipate at any moment.

“So, what exactly is this place? And what situation am I in…?”

“This brother, you are dead, just like me.”

“Whoa!”

The sudden voice beside him startled the swordsman. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, only to find nothing at his waist—no weapon to wield.

“Hey… no need to get so worked up. We’re all dead here. No matter how powerful you were in life, it’s useless now. It’s better just to sit tight and wait for the ferryman.”

The voice beside him spoke again with a hint of exasperation, and it wasn’t until that moment that the Soul managed to shake off the sudden shock, suppressing his confusion and disbelief, and turned his gaze.

What met his eyes was a similarly ethereal figure, identifiable as a young man clad in full white armor. However, the key point was… he had seen many similar outfits recently.

“You are… a Holy Knight of the Church of the Light Goddess?”

Just as he was about to say something, the figure widened his eyes with surprise at the Soul’s advance statement.

“Oh!? I didn’t see that coming, brother! You’re from the same place as I am? And you recognize the Holy Knight?”

Clearing his throat, the young figure, who seemed to be a knight of the Goddess’s Church, placed a hand to his chest, performed a standard greeting of the Goddess’s followers, and continued to introduce himself with enthusiasm.

“Praise the Goddess, my name is Bowen Bernal. In life, I belonged to the Holy Empire’s Savor Province, Holy Star City Church. May I ask what you go by?”

“Uh… just call me Soul…”

“Soul?”

The young knight, Bowen, paused for a moment, and his voice took on a peculiar tone. Though his enigmatic features were obscured by his helmet, the swordsman could detect that he likely frowned.

“Brother, I understand you might be struggling to accept the fact that you’re dead, but there’s no need to use such a bizarre name for yourself, right? The teachings say that names are chosen by our parents, witnessed by the Goddess, and bestowed by the world’s essence—they aren’t to be changed lightly. So I recommend you…”

The swordsman waved his hands, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation as he explained.

“No, no, no… you misunderstand. I really am called ‘Soul.’ Due to some reasons, this is pretty much my real name. It’s not self-pity or anything. To be honest, I still don’t quite understand where this is…”

Staring intently with a “Are you sure?” expression, Bowen Bernal scrutinized the Soul for quite a while. Although the Soul felt a bit embarrassed, he could only spread his hands in a gesture of innocence.

Seeing that he didn’t look like he was joking, Bowen, though still puzzled, decided not to press further on that matter. Instead, he pointed toward the misty river in the distance beyond the sea of flowers, explaining gently, like a senior sharing insights.

“Alright, alright, see that river? It’s called the Sanzu River, also known as the River of Souls, the final resting place for the souls of the deceased. There, spirits from all over the world will be cleansed of impurities and pasts, transforming into pure and pristine ‘Void,’ returning to the universe and entering the cycle anew.”

“Sanzu…? That name… wait a second, does that mean I’m really dead!?”

Upon this delayed realization, Bowen facepalmed, letting out a deep sigh.

“Brother, did you get your head knocked out before you died? Were you even listening to me? This is the River of Souls, do you understand? The River of Souls only appears in the Underworld! If you were still alive, you wouldn’t be here!”

“Ah haha…”

Feeling a tad awkward, the swordsman chuckled but soon let out a resigned sigh as if he had finally awoken to the truth.

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect that one could still… react slowly after dying. So, I really didn’t manage to catch that strike, did I? Just that one strike… not surprising it’s the Spiritual Fox Priestess. My mentor’s warnings were absolutely spot-on; once again, I overestimated my abilities…”

Sensing the faint sorrow and helplessness emanating from the figure before him, the knight named Bowen gradually let go of his irritated expression, also sighing and nodding.

“It seems you, too, have your own story, brother. Well, there’s nothing much to say. Meeting here in the afterlife is somewhat of a fate for us. It’s the Goddess’s guidance.”

“Let’s just chat here and wait; the ferryman shouldn’t take long to arrive.”

   

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