Fu Juan: “…” She sighed lightly. Using the Seven Star Sword to block the Ghost King, she took advantage of Wang Xuanming’s swordplay distracting the Ghost King to reverse her sword and hand it to Jiang Yiguang, saying in a deep voice, “Step back!” She knew Jiang Yiguang carried protective magical artifacts. Unfortunately, Aunt Jiang, fearing Jiang Yiguang would cause trouble, had only provided protective talismans, none with strong offensive power. With her left hand, she gripped the wheelchair handle tightly; with her right hand, she reached forward slightly. Blood dripped steadily from her palm, and within the sanguine mist, a current of energy coalesced into a sword of pure sword intent, which slashed straight at the Ghost King ahead.
Fu Juan’s own magical power was limited. By doing this, she was completely burning her foundation and bones, using her blood to forge the sword! The energy surged. This sword was not shattered by the churning baleful aura but aimed directly at Xie Chaoyun’s forehead! The energy sword was sharp, but this wasn’t enough to break through the millennial ghost baleful aura the Ghost King had formed. Fu Juan hadn’t expected this single strike to succeed. Instead, she flipped her left hand and produced a “Northern Emperor Devil-Subduing Spirit Talisman,” sending it flying along the crack sliced open by her sword intent. This talisman emitted an extremely fierce, dominant baleful energy. The Ghost King’s movements stalled for a moment. Seizing the chance, Wang Xuanming violently pushed his spell, unleashing over a dozen arcs of sword light.
Watching the battle up close, Jiang Yiguang thought she’d be blown away by the shockwaves. When Fu Juan shouted “Step back,” she instinctively shrank back a few steps. Her hand holding the Seven Star Sword trembled. She turned her head slightly to gaze toward the cave exit—she was wearing the Mystical Grain, so she absolutely wouldn’t get lost on Southern Mountain. What if she seized this moment to flee? Once this thought took root, it spread uncontrollably like thorny vines in a spring breeze.
If she were to turn around now—
[Detected Host triggering plot. Choices are as follows:
A. Run away. (Chivalry Points -3)
B. Stay still. (Reward: Fu Juan’s approval)
C. Wait for an opportunity to act. (Physical Strength Points +3)]
Jiang Yiguang: “…” Would she get pelted with eggs if her Chivalry Points turned negative? What use was Fu Juan’s approval? And were the “three” Physical Strength Points a hint to her? With no time to hesitate, she decisively chose the third option. Her choice in the plot had not been this. At this moment, she clearly felt the heaviness in her legs—perhaps that slight strength she could muster was originally meant for “running away.”
But if she really fled, the impending disaster would be catastrophic.
She’d probably drag Fu Juan into the dangerous whirlpool as well.
Jiang Yiguang took a deep breath, feeling the power from the three Physical Strength Points.
She could no longer be described as fragile. Even if she couldn’t lift a bronze cauldron, maybe she could lift those nine dangling chains covered in runes? Her thoughts raced. After Fu Juan and Wang Xuanming lured the Ghost King further away, Jiang Yiguang bit her tongue and, overcoming her deep-seated fear, took her chance and dashed forward like an arrow loosed from its bow.
Wang Xuanming’s pupils constricted when he saw Jiang Yiguang’s actions. The word “dead weight” was on the tip of his tongue when he saw her lift the chains from the water and fling them violently toward them. The splashing water droplets, like flying raindrops, were instantly evaporated by the hot wind stirred up by the talismans. Wang Xuanming had no time to ponder Jiang Yiguang’s “abnormality.” He heard Fu Juan’s shout and reached out to grab the chain Jiang Yiguang had flung. Stepping on the celestial pace, he looped the Ghost King in the middle. He formed a hand seal, and all the talismans above ignited. The talismans’ spiritual energy, though much depleted over the years, erupted violently when catalyzed by Daoist arts. It was an incredibly fierce, dominant power! Like a great sun blazing, it burst forth with dazzling, brilliant light.
The chain, forged through countless temperings, rattled violently, as if about to shatter completely.
The ghostly baleful aura around Xie Chaoyun instantly weakened by more than half. The ghost domain, which had been expanding outward, also showed signs of contracting.
“She’s injured,” Wang Xuanming panted heavily. Igniting all the talismans at once through his clan’s secret technique had drained too much of his magical power. His hand holding the ritual sword trembled as if a gust of wind could send the blade falling from his grasp.
At that moment, Fu Juan’s face was ghastly pale. Her slender frame looked more like a Ferocious Ghost crawling out of hell than Xie Chaoyun did. Fresh blood soaked her palm. She raised her hand, pinching a talisman, and directly invoked wind and thunder! Thunder, the embodiment of righteousness, was the most commonly used demon-subduing method by Xuanmen disciples. The roving Thunder Light was like a dragon or serpent, and amidst the dragon roar, the unbridled forces of the Thunder Arts surged straight toward the injured Xie Chaoyun.
But Xie Chaoyun’s expression was cold and fierce. With a flick of her sleeve, she deflected the crashing thunder energy. Her ghostly eyes, devoid of emotion, stared fixedly at Fu Juan as her right claw swiped toward her heart. Yet when it was about to bypass the burning flames and thunder and touch Fu Juan, her movement abruptly halted. She furrowed her brow slightly, a strange ripple flashing in her eyes.
Meanwhile, Jiang Yiguang had already released the chains. She ran with all her might, like a lightning leopard. Before the forcibly suppressed “emotions” could become a hindrance, she raised the Seven Star Sword and slashed at Xie Chaoyun. Jiang Yiguang didn’t understand Daoist arts; the sword’s magical enhancement was minimal, relying mostly on her “brute force.” In truth, Jiang Yiguang didn’t expect much from this strike. Unexpectedly, when the sword landed, Xie Chaoyun staggered from the blow.
A flash of understanding cut through Jiang Yiguang’s muddled mind. The System’s Physical Strength Points might be different from what she imagined. Were they relative to modern society’s “physical strength”? Or to the spiritual energy revival era? The current situation allowed no time for further thought. The idea of “landing another blow” took hold. But Xie Chaoyun, dazed, had already recovered, giving Jiang Yiguang no chance to wound herself again. With a crisp clang, Jiang Yiguang was knocked back several steps. Had Fu Juan not been quick to catch her, she would have been sent flying into the water.
However, the situation wasn’t good. Jiang Yiguang crashed into Fu Juan’s embrace, making her dizzy and disoriented, unable to suppress a pained grunt.
Xie Chaoyun ceased her attack. In those scarlet eyes, the bloody baleful aura receded somewhat.
“Sorry,” Jiang Yiguang said, her heart racing. She scrambled to her feet from Fu Juan’s arms, the corner of her eye catching Fu Juan’s blood-soaked hand. A sharp stab of pain lanced through her temple, as if pricked by a needle.
“Curse technique.” Xie Chaoyun raised her hand; her sharp claws retracted, and a hint of clarity seemed to return to her features. She pressed her forehead and squeezed out two words. The emotions inside her churned like magma. Her mind was being tugged at, as if threatening to plunge her into darkness. Once she truly became a Ferocious Ghost, her instinct would be to devour flesh and blood and vitality until the entire land beneath her feet was reduced to an infernal hell—a catastrophe that could destroy the city.
Fu Juan didn’t know where this moment of clarity came from, but she found a sliver of hope in Xie Chaoyun’s change. It wasn’t about persuading her with words to turn back from her bitterness but targeting the “Devil-Refining Incantation” carved on the cave wall. She and Wang Xuanming needed to contain Xie Chaoyun, who could erupt again at any moment. Naturally, this task fell to Jiang Yiguang.
“Jiang Yiguang, go and destroy that Devil-Refining Incantation.”
Jiang Yiguang shook her still somewhat groggy head and looked at Fu Juan, confused. “I don’t know the structure of that talisman.”
Fu Juan was succinct: “Destroy it by brute force.”
Jiang Yiguang: “…” She couldn’t read any change of expression on Fu Juan’s icy face, but she felt she was being insulted. Rubbing her sore wrist, she turned and walked toward the passage leading to the exit—yet that forcibly suppressed urge to “flee” surfaced again, intensifying with every step she took outward.
It wasn’t hard to imagine what would happen to Fu Juan and the others if she just “walked away.”
“She—” Wang Xuanming frowned deeply. He had absolutely no trust in Jiang Yiguang. Even though today’s Jiang Yiguang had shown perseverance and courage utterly unlike her past, he still believed she could bail out at any moment. After all, in his impression, the willful Miss Jiang of the Jiang family had nothing to do with the word “reliable.”
Fu Juan didn’t respond. She suppressed the weariness in her brow and slightly raised her left hand, forming a hand seal.
Entrusting trust wasn’t easy. But often, when forced against a wall, one could only grasp at that faint sliver of hope. They had originally thought it was merely a mountain creature causing trouble, not expecting it to be a millennial Great Demon. Worse, the “Great Demon” was only bait to lure Xie Chaoyun. She was Empress Wenzhao in life, once receiving incense and worship, and possessed Merits and Dragon Qi as protection, making her vastly different from ordinary ghosts. Who on earth had placed down this evil curse to cause her to become a Ferocious Ghost? Could it be connected to the Ghost King uprising from years ago? The more Fu Juan pondered, the heavier her heart grew. She hated this feeling of being trapped in a scheme, the same helplessness she’d felt when watching her parents die.
Jiang Yiguang walked step by step toward the outside.
Her footsteps gradually drowned out the wind, echoing like a great drum pounding in her ears. Holding the Seven Star Sword in her trembling right hand, Jiang Yiguang dragged the tip along the cave wall, producing an ear-piercing screech. It was this very noise that made her shiver, her muddled mind clearing slightly. Shattered stone fragments fell to the ground. The talisman, coated in a layer of malignant, blood-red light, faintly resisted the ritual sword. Sensing that repulsive force, Jiang Yiguang gritted her teeth and stabbed the strange rune with all her might.
With a soft squelch.
The tip of the sword pierced through the rune and embedded itself in the cave wall.
With a clatter, something fell to the ground.
For Lu Yaotiao, this instant felt like half a lifetime.
After slapping the True Form Chart of the Five Peaks onto Xie Qingdu, she watched a wisp of distorted smoke coalesce behind Xie Qingdu, like a ferocious, snarling fox. But as soon as it was pricked by the golden light of the talisman, it transformed into a peach wood fox carving and thudded onto the floor. Lu Yaotiao looked at Xie Qingdu, then at the wooden pendant lying on the floor, as if scorched by fire and coated with a layer of gray ash. Her lips moved, but no words came out.
