Chapter 87: Searching for Orpheus

"Come with me to the Fourth Circle, the Judas Ring, and assassinate the Lord of the Underworld in his mortal form!"

As Saga finished speaking, Feng Zhe nearly lost his balance. Saga was, indeed, Saga—whether it was his overwhelming strength that emboldened him to challenge the Lord of the Underworld, or simply his reckless audacity, Feng Zhe could not tell.

"The Sea Emperor and the Lord of the Underworld have joined forces. We must stop them before their alliance is complete, or else..." Saga brought news so earth-shattering that Feng Zhe had no choice but to seriously consider the feasibility of this plan.

"Most of the Dark Stars remain sealed at the Five Elder Peaks; now is precisely when the Underworld Army is at its weakest. If our goal is merely to wound the Lord, it may be worth trying..." Feng Zhe weighed the possibility, while Saga was already thinking ahead.

"Since we must travel to the Underworld, there is one there who can aid us!"

Naturally, Feng Zhe thought of Orpheus of Lyra—the one whose power rivaled that of the Gold Saints. With his aid, their chances of success would increase dramatically.

Immediately, the Death Cosmos swirled in Feng Zhe's hand, and in the next instant, it entered the body of Balendain, the Weeping Star of Heaven.

The two vanished from the Pope’s Palace, and when Feng Zhe opened his eyes again, he found himself in the Underworld.

…

The Underworld

There was no air, no breath, and not even sunlight here. Yet Feng Zhe felt no discomfort; on the contrary, he sensed this was a place where he could truly exist. Even his punches felt several times stronger.

Unlike the newly arrived Feng Zhe, Saga appeared calm and severe—his Surplice was unique, standing out even among the Underworld’s warriors.

"I have other matters to attend to. We’ll meet at the Fourth Circle." With these words, Saga disappeared before Feng Zhe could react, leaving him bewildered in the silent wind.

"This teacher is too irresponsible! He’s the one who dragged me here!" Feng Zhe kicked a stone in frustration, shattering it instantly.

"Sir, you must cross the River of the Underworld!" Before long, a sly voice echoed in the darkness.

"Charon of the Heavenly Ship Star?" The boatman had arrived. Feng Zhe wasted no courtesy and climbed aboard.

"Sir, do you come from the mortal realm?" Charon asked obsequiously as he rowed the boat.

Feng Zhe simply grunted, saying little for fear of giving himself away.

"Then, did you bring any treasure? If you could spare some for passage, that would be ideal," Charon said, his eyes narrowing with greed.

"How could I have forgotten this?" Feng Zhe cursed inwardly. Charon was infamous for his greed; friend or foe, it mattered little—pay him, and you could cross; lack payment, and he'd toss you into the river without hesitation.

Yet in this borrowed body of Balendain, he had nothing—not even a strand of hair to offer as fare!

He could only cough and say, "I didn't bring any money this time—put it on my tab. I'll pay you next time!"

The moment Feng Zhe finished, Charon's face darkened. "No credit for passage!"

Bang!

Charon's oar and Feng Zhe’s fist clashed in the cramped boat, their struggle nearly tearing it apart.

Feng Zhe dared not escalate the fight too much, so he shouted, "Charon, I, Balendain the Heavenly Weeping Star, always keep my word. You will get your fare—do you think I’d cheat you?!"

"Save your breath! Even Lord Radamanthys cannot owe me money!" Charon retorted, slamming his oar at Feng Zhe again.

Feng Zhe roared in fury, "Then go to hell!"

Light-Speed Fist!

With a seemingly unremarkable punch, he struck Charon's chest, shattering the boatman’s Surplice. The small boat could not withstand the force and splintered apart. Feng Zhe plunged into the River of the Underworld and was quickly dragged beneath its surface.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the Underworld’s Court of Judgment.

A man in judicial robes sat there, a book in one hand and a whip in the other, smiling benignly at Feng Zhe.

"Balendain, do you plead guilty?"

A solemn judge sat at the bench, occasionally flipping through his book as if pronouncing sentence on Feng Zhe.

"So it’s you, Lune of the Heavenly Hero Star. Do you think you can judge me?" With eagle-like arms and a swaggering demeanor, Balendain showed no fear of the judge before him.

"Insolence! How dare you cause a commotion in my court!" Lune’s expression turned icy as he snapped his whip straight at Feng Zhe.

Crack!

Balendain dodged in a flash, then responded with equal speed—a Light-Speed Fist hurled at his opponent.

Crack!

Fist and whip collided, neither side yielding.

"Who are you? You are not Balendain!" Lune’s face grew grim as he tightened his grip on the whip, clearly ready to strike to kill.

"I am your worst nightmare!" Balendain retorted, launching another Light-Speed Fist. Lune swung his whip with a flourish.

Fiery Stranglehold!

Fire Whip!!

The flaming lash coiled like a noose of death, dread seeping into his opponent’s mind. This was Lune’s ultimate technique—infused with hellfire, it brought terror so overwhelming that resistance melted away, leaving only death.

Yet something was different about Balendain’s Light-Speed Fist. The fiery snare seemed powerless, rendered completely ineffective.

A faint spark appeared on Lune’s body, at first unnoticed, but as he realized he could not break free, it was already too late.

"You are not a Specter—who are you?" Panic tinged Lune’s face, the suffocating grip of death unlike anything he had ever felt.

Balendain offered no explanation. Soon, Lune’s agonized screams faded as he was reduced to ashes.

"Play with fire in front of me, and you’re begging to die!" Feng Zhe, relishing his role as a Specter, surveyed the courtroom with disdain before vanishing.

…

The Second Prison—Rain of Torment

It was said that those guilty of greed in life would come to the Rain of Torment, to become food for the three-headed hounds. The guardian of this hell was Pharaoh of the Heavenly Beast Star.

No sooner had Feng Zhe arrived than a giant three-headed dog lunged and bit down on him. But with a single punch, Feng Zhe shattered one massive head and landed lightly on the ground.

"Balendain, why aren’t you at Lord Radamanthys’s side? Did you come here just to kill my pet?" Pharaoh glared at him in fury.

Feng Zhe grinned. "I wanted to hear the most beautiful music in the Underworld, to see how it compares to my own singing. So, I came to challenge you!"

At the mention of the Underworld’s finest music, Pharaoh was clearly pleased. "Very well, let’s have a contest."

Pharaoh began to play, while Feng Zhe countered with a voice laced with charm. Before long, Pharaoh’s melody faltered—he had lost.

Feng Zhe ended his song with a hint of regret, as if unimpressed by the competition.

This attitude enraged Pharaoh, who immediately proclaimed, "I know someone whose music can defeat yours—come with me!"

With that, he led Feng Zhe into a garden.

This garden was like another world. From within, the sound of a harp drifted out—gentle, beautiful, and enchanting to the listener.

Such music could never be produced by a mere Specter.

Looking into the distance, Feng Zhe finally beheld the legendary Silver Saint—Orpheus of Lyra!