Fear climbed into Ban'er's heart, but he quickly suppressed it. This was the moment of life and death; Ban'er swiftly drew the short dagger from his waist.
His expression was furious. What of an Evil Ghost? He believed he could ascend to the Celestial Kingdom. If he didn't have a foothold, then he would seize one.
The Exiled People didn't need anyone's shelter; they were enough on their own. This was what Ban'er had been striving for.
In the unbearably hot air, Ban'er swung the dagger with all his might at the unknown thing before him. Steel clashed, sparking dazzling flames. It seemed as if he was facing an Iron Armor Knight, and Ban'er's attack had no effect whatsoever.
His arm numbed from the intense friction, he could barely grip the dagger, but a more violent gale suddenly arose. Although the attack had yet to land, the deadly intent was already terrifying enough.
The Death God raised its scythe, swearing to take his life.
