Yama Rising

Chapter 649: Cold Shoulder (1)

The surrounding waters trembled, almost as though something had disturbed the still surface of a mirror. Moments later, waves that were tens of meters tall began to slosh about wildly, causing the little island to look no different from a small boat in a storm.

And then, the voice suddenly stopped.

Emissary… Emissary of Hell!

At once, a multitude of thoughts surged straight into Babulu’s mind, and everything fell silent.

The eye in the vortex quivered softly. Moments later, the Yin energy coalesced together, and a tall dark-skinned man stepped out of the vortex in the sky and quickly walked up to Qin Ye with a bright smile on his face. He extended his hand, “Angels of the East. It’s been a long time. This isn’t a disturbance at all. How could the angels of the East be a disturbance? It is our honour to have you here.”

Babulu was very tall. He stood at approximately two meters tall. His hair was naturally curly, but the ends of his hair appeared to transition seamlessly into wisps of Yin energy. Two clumps of jade green netherflame blazed where his eyes were. He wore garments made of animal skin, and carried a multitude of exquisite accessories and adornments.

Incredibly strong.

This was qualitative strength at its best, and not quantitative strength. Babulu must have consolidated his own cultivation several times in order to reach the level that he was at today. And Qin Ye was able to confirm all of these suspicions of his as soon as they shook hands.

He’s clearly laying the foundations for his breakthrough to the realms of a Yama-King. I’m afraid that he’s quite possibly the next master of the Black Mamba Underworld.

Qin Ye smiled, “It’s all a matter of destiny.”

This was a masterful manner of beating about the bush, raising incidental references about the elephant in the room, but never actually talking about it.

It wasn’t always a good thing to make the first move. After all, it might be interpreted as over-eagerness, and that could potentially cause the other party to reassess the leverage they had in the discussions and potential negotiations ahead.

“Hell’s Embassy remains in the Black Mamba Underworld to this day. But admittedly, it hasn’t been cleaned out for a while. If you wish to stay here, I’m afraid you might have to be patient as we get that sorted out. Alternatively…”

It’s begun…

Is it public business, or private business?

One of the P4 underworlds… This may be an olive branch… or it may be a result of the unforeseen changes in circumstances… Babulu had clearly detected the precursors of change.

Babulu opened the wooden door in front of them as he spoke.

What should have been a small island surrounded by corpses had now transformed into a sanctuary filled with ancient trees. The flowerbeds of spider lilies outside were only separated by a yellow stone paved road that led straight out into the distance. Several animalistic totems bearing candles lit both sides of the path. A stone building stood right at the end of the road, among the flowers and the trees. A dozen dark-skinned butlers dressed in western suits bowed deeply at once as they greeted him, “Welcome.”

“Naturally.” Babulu smiled back radiantly and bowed deeply with his hand in front of his belly, “Alkebulan would never leave its allies in the lurch.”

Something’s not right…

However, the Mythic Spirit had yet to make his appearance!

The reason why he had waited so long for Abra in the mortal realm was precisely because he wanted to communicate directly with the Malagasy Underworld through their dedicated channels so as not to draw too much attention to themselves. Furthermore, he was hoping that by doing so, he could bridge the gap between the fact that he was an Abyssal Prefect, and the Yama-class Mythic Spirit of Malagasy.

And that’s not all, he didn’t even get to interact with the foreign minister of the Black Mamba Underworld!

Furthermore, as a deputy chieftain, Babulu didn’t even bother to show me around the Black Mamba Underworld. Given Hell’s reputation, they would know full well what a Prefect-class Emissary of Hell means. He stared blankly at the villa as he walked closer and closer. Various thoughts continued to pour into his mind, So, why are they giving me the cold shoulder?

It was luxurious. Not as refined as it could be, but it was gorgeous and charming in a wild and bold way. Everything came together nicely in the villa.

Skulls of Yin beasts hung all around them, and one of the multicoloured Yin beasts even appeared to have been made into a vase with a blooming lotus flower emerging from its mouth. A candle rested at the heart of the flower, lit with a gentle flame. In other rooms, there were gilt candlesticks of various shapes holding up softly flickering flames. Everything looked mysterious yet elegant at the same time.

Upon closer inspection, Qin Ye discovered that these utensils appeared milky-white like jade, and almost transparent. His best guess was that these were utensils crafted out of a specific type of gemstones. The patterns etched on them were surprisingly exquisite, just like a traditional Cathayan landscape painting.

Qin Ye sat on the chair adorned with plush cushions. They didn’t appear too thick, but their material made Qin Ye feel as though he were sitting on clouds. It was incredibly comfortable.

The Malagasy Underworld is clearly faring better than its mortal realm counterparts… He slowly scanned the paintings and decor around him - The entire underworld is undergoing an orderly development. Even their manufacturing industries aren’t too bad. In fact…

Qin Ye set down the cup and casually picked up the magazine and flipped through its contents. It wasn’t thick by any means. Furthermore, he couldn’t read the language on the cover page. However, every article was translated into four languages.

He looked through its contents. He had neither access to information, nor any leads to go on right now. Although he’d done a fair amount of preparation before coming, one could never be prepared enough. The magazine might be thin, but it was at least a decent source of information.

“So that’s it…” He took a deep breath and tossed the magazine back on the table. Then, massaging his table, he exclaimed under his breath, “Well, that complicates things...”

A stone temple. It was one that was designed with traditional Alkebulan flair, as well as Aegyptian elements.

The stone steps leading up to the temple were thousands of meters wide. Emissaries were stationed all around the steps like orderly rows of ants. Each row of emissaries were located exactly 200 meters apart from the other, while ten-meter tall torches were located at regular intervals all around them. The entire area was filled with a sense of sacredness and splendour, and it made any Yin spirit around feel indescribably small.

Babulu was kneeling quietly on the ground in the temple, before an altar almost a thousand-meters wide. Copious amounts of Yin energy raged from the heart of the altar, interspersed only by wails of aggrieved spirits. It was as though the altar were the very embodiment of the underworld itself.

Silence.

“Are you certain that leaving him at the villa wouldn’t give rise to any diplomatic disputes? After all, no underworld has ever treated Hell like this before!”