The ivory tiles, soaked in corpse blood, carry a terrifying legend. The restless spirits wandering the mortal world are not the stubbornness of the dead, but the resentment of the living. Desire and greed extinguish vibrant lives, breeding ever more fierce anger and evil. Beneath those long-ruined walls, flowers once bloomed. Yet in the flash of a single spark, all was reduced to nothingness. Thirty years-a fleeting passage. Time, however formidable, cannot erase the hatred within the human heart. The pent-up fury intensified with each step taken in pursuit of the enemy. After tasting the sorrow of family torn apart and friends turned against, death became the only release. Kill him! Kill him? Is it to grant him release, or to inflict pain upon oneself?
