As a priestess who reanimates corpses to shepherd them home, Daiyu is accustomed to death. But when death comes for her ailing father, she refuses to let go. Unable to afford treatment, Daiyu accepts a risky job guiding a prince's corpse back from a battlefield—only the prince awakens more alive than dead.
To re-anchor his soul in his body, they must capture energy from malicious ghosts while uncovering the mystery of his untimely death—a truth that threatens not only Daiyu’s father but the fate of the entire kingdom.
The high-pitched chime reached the village gate, death’s waves ringing toward the shores of the living.
Mothers swept their children from the windows into their beds, locking the shutters. Overworked farmers hurried home like rabbits dashing for the safety of their burrows. Even the night sentry abandoned their posts, leaving only a flickering torch to greet their inauspicious guests.
From the shadows of the main road, a tall figure emerged, carrying a staff of peach wood from which hung a single iron bell. He wore the crossed-collar, cotton robes of a priest, the teal fabric ghostly pale in the moonlight. A black, square cap sat atop his head.
Clinging to his side was a girl no older than ten, her plump face unusually stoic for a child so young.
What followed behind them was what frightened the hiding villagers most: a line of stiff corpses, arms outstretched for balance. The Fu talismans taped to their heads like long, yellow paper veils compelled them to lumber slowly, wordlessly, after the priest.
As the group approached the quiet village, the priest turned to the girl.
“Do you know why we must always ring the bell, Daiyu?”
“To guide the deceased home?” she replied, eager to impress.
“Correct. But there is another reason as well.”