The mists of the underworld swirled, gray and cold, connecting two realms that should not have met.
Ammit, the Devourer, prowled the reeds. She was a grotesque fusion of predator animals—crocodile, lion, hippo—designed to incite primal fear. She sniffed the air. A soul was near, one heavy with violence and duty. A sinner. A meal.
Zhong Kui stepped out of the fog. He was ugly, with a face like a thunderstorm and a beard like iron wire. He carried a fan and a massive brush, the tools of a scholar-warrior. He saw the beast and didn't flinch.
"A hippopotamus that bites?" Zhong Kui mused. "How novel."
The Judgment
Ammit roared. It was a sound that made souls weigh heavy. Duat-Bound Hunger.
She charged, her crocodile jaws snapping with the force of a hydraulic press. She intended to devour Zhong Kui’s heart before he could even draw his sword.
But Zhong Kui was not a mortal soul. He was the King of Ghosts.
He side-stepped with deceptive grace. He didn't draw a sword; he drew his brush. Demon-Catching Brush.
With a flick of his wrist, he painted a glowing seal in the air. Portrait Ward.
The Art of War
Ammit slammed into the invisible barrier. The ink-magic burned her snout. She thrashed, trying to claw through the calligraphy, but the characters held firm, binding her concepts of 'Lion' and 'Crocodile' into stillness.
"You lack discipline," Zhong Kui scolded.
He reached through the barrier, his hand growing to gigantic proportions. He grabbed the Devourer by the scruff of her lion-neck. Ammit shrieked, a sound of divine outrage, but against the Demon Queller, she was just another unruly spirit.
Zhong Kui unrolled a blank scroll with his other hand. He slammed Ammit onto the paper.
"Stay," he commanded.
He painted heavy iron chains over her legs and a muzzle over her jaws. The ink dried instantly. Ammit was flattened, transformed from a living god-eater into a harmless, if angry, illustration.
Zhong Kui rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his robe. "A fine addition to the collection. Now, where is the exit?"