“In the thirty-third year of the Great Qian dynasty, a blood moon shrouded Qingniu Village. Lin Chenzhou crouched at the village entrance with a black coffin on his back, listening as the villagers called him a ‘bringer of bad luck’, until a thousand blood corpses on the rear mountain smashed through the soul-sealing stakes, their red eyes sweeping over every paper-covered window! A sudden rattling came from the coffin, and a ghostly light spread across his palm. When the first blood corpse lunged at him, the black bone absorbed it until nothing remained but a white husk! ‘I-is that the Pure Evil-Exorcising Bone?’ Old Ninth of the Iron Coffin cried out. But Lin Chenzhou could already feel his martial meridians burning, while his ghost meridian exploded in his dantian. So the black coffin he’d carried for eighteen years held the sword that suppresses all beneath the Eight Wastes!”
