The majestic and imposing palace loomed high over the entire expanse of Yingdu Ghost City, its blood-red lacquer painting every beam and pillar. The sharp, unyielding lines resembled the wailing cries of tortured spirits. Flying eaves pierced the thin mist, and thousands of black tiles were swallowed by the dim light. An endless, unceasing mass of skeletal remains formed the foundation of the palace, while hundreds of armored ghost soldiers guarded its four corners.
It was within this Yama Hall that the fates of countless souls were judged and weighed, determining whether they would cross Naihe Bridge for reincarnation, or descend into the Eighteen Levels of Hell to endure punishment.
Within the Second Yama Hall.
Cold stone columns supported the towering expanse of the grand hall. Yin Weiyin lowered her gaze to the ground—a uniform palette of dreary gray hues, tinged faintly with an eerie blue glow.
