In the boundless depths of the netherworld, beneath the scorched stones of the easternmost point, surrounded by a fortress of iron thorns, lay the infamous Ghostly Abyss—none other than the Tenth Court of the Underworld.
The Night Wanderer was suspended in the center of the grand hall, dangling by chains. His smiling eyes held no warmth as they fixed on the black-haired young man sitting atop the throne, adorned with a regal crown.
The young man held a document in his hand, his expression solemn. A crimson mole on his forehead added an aura of majesty and sanctity to his appearance.
"Lord Tenth, you've kept me hanging here for quite some time now. Has your anger subsided?" the Night Wanderer asked with a grin.
