Far East of the Demon Continent, the Yellow Springs Ghost Domain.
The Netherworld wasteland that had once echoed with the wails of ten thousand ghosts and churned with seas of sin had now been reduced to a silent, desolate expanse of scorched earth.
The foul river of the underworld, thick as ink, had completely dried up. Its riverbed was cracked like a spiderweb, venting the very last wisps of foul-smelling kala ashes.
Chapter 371