Chapter 18 – Drawing the Sword

There were other places she could let go of, but there was one place she could not.

The Burial Forest — a place sealed away in history, accessible only to the people of Yin, known to no one else.

It had come into existence because of the Yin people, and had been hidden away because of them — a life-and-death precipice.

Had the Yin people leaked this location, or had someone found it on their own? Zhan Changfeng had no way of knowing. She could only set the question aside for now. News of the upheaval in the Yin Dynasty had already reached the Burial Forest, and before long someone would come to escort her. She would investigate the matter then.

In the meantime, those few golden leaves were rather intriguing — water could not damage them, fire could not burn them, and even when she channeled her inner energy against them, she could not harm them in the slightest.

Zhan Changfeng spent the day in her room studying them, and in the evening she came out for a walk.

By then, the guards had lit two bonfires in the open space of the front courtyard. After sorting through the game they had hunted outside, they set one portion into a soup and roasted the other.

These rough men had no knowledge of refined cooking, but to have managed this much was already quite impressive.

Zhan Changfeng had already eaten earlier, and given the severity of her cleanliness habits, she truly could not bring herself to mingle with the others. So she did not go over, but stood at a distance beneath the covered walkway, gazing at the scholar tree in the courtyard.

The scholar tree’s branches and leaves were unusually lush. Half of it glowed in the ruddy light of the bonfire, while the other half was shrouded in shadow. The sounds of the men drinking and eating made it feel all the more eerie and desolate.

Eighty-one yellow streamers were tied to the tree — nine times nine — each one painted with talismanic symbols in bright red cinnabar, indistinct in the night.

Zhan Changfeng knew these yellow streamers were the handiwork of the Long-bearded Daoist. However, since she had never studied occult arts under him, she knew relatively little about such matters.

She lowered her head to smooth out the crease in her sleeve. Then her view darkened — Zero-Four had stepped in front of her.

“What is it?”

Zero-Four’s body was tense. He said in a low voice, “It has come.”

Zhan Changfeng stepped out from behind him and saw a figure beneath the scholar tree, its silhouette very much like her own.

Mimicking her, was it.

Zhan Changfeng leapt onto the railing in one step, raised her hand, drew the sword Zero-Four kept ready at his breast, and thrust it toward that shadowy figure!

“Your Highness!”

The guards had also noticed the commotion over here. They looked up and were all startled.

What was that ghastly shadow beneath the tree?!

It was a life-sized scarecrow!

Blood-red thread stitched a jagged, grinning mouth, and two hollow, eerie eyes stared blankly out.

It was extremely agile. Zhan Changfeng’s first thrust missed, but she was unhurried. With her second strike she changed from thrusting to a sweeping slash, grazing across the scarecrow’s body.

Her sword was forged from a meteorite fallen from beyond the heavens — it could cut through iron like mud. That it had grazed across the scarecrow without cleaving it to pieces was one thing, but it had not even left a mark.

Zhan Changfeng curled the corner of her lips. Just a pile of straw, yet it could be this resilient. How truly interesting.

A hidden excitement surged up from the depths of her heart. She no longer held back, each sword strike more powerful than the last, the sound of air splitting apart ringing out everywhere.

In the forest.

Master Huang’s face had gone pale, and sweat poured down like rain. Damn it all — instead of meeting a kindred spirit, he had run into a raving swordsman.

Mark my words, showing such disrespect to ghosts and gods will bring retribution upon you. Master Huang’s eyes bulged as he desperately urged his spell along. “Get lost!”

The scarecrow’s strength suddenly surged. The fist it swung in passing as it swept by her struck the ground and left a crater.

The guards raised their weapons and stood at the ready. Seeing that things were going badly, they were about to close in.

Zhan Changfeng shouted once to drive them back. She swept her long sword out, hooked up a crock of sesame oil, and sent it flying high into the air. The sesame oil poured down in a cascade, and her long sword cleaved through the oil and the fire — flames roared ferociously.

She gripped the flaming sword with both hands, her force like a thousand catties, and brought it down to sever the head!

The fallen scarecrow’s neck caught a spark, and a smoldering fire spread slowly.

The severed head rolled to one side, face-up, its two eyes askew.

From the very beginning, Zhan Changfeng had noticed these were two real human eyes. She did not know what kind of occult art this was — could it really not violate the laws of humanity?

“Pfft!”

With the puppet broken, Master Huang, who was linked to it, also spat out a mouthful of blood. He gritted his teeth and said, “You little brat!”

Master Huang steeled his resolve. He reached up and ran his finger across his lips, dipped his index finger in blood, then produced a spirit-summoning talisman with his other hand and, using his finger as a brush, wrote out an incantation.

A yin wind rose. Plants and grass bowed and wept.

A cold chill shot up Master Huang’s spine, as if something was standing behind him, watching.

He knew he must not turn around. He spoke reverently: “This poor Daoist requests your assistance, to decide the life or death of one person. Upon success, I am willing to offer up half of my essence blood.”

“Keh keh keh — that’s not for you to decide.”

Within the black mist, a pair of crimson eyes burst with a sharp gleam. The figure shot like an arrow loosed from a bow, cleaving through the trees, passing through the walls, and in an instant pierced straight through the body of the sword-wielding person!

“Hahahaha, is this the extent of your strength? Are you even worth my effort!” The black mist swirled and danced wildly. The yellow streamers on the scholar tree began to tremble violently. “Oh? There are resentful ghosts sealed here too — keh keh keh, all of you, wake up! Hahahaha!”

The black mist engulfed the scholar tree. One by one, the yellow streamers tore free and scattered into the air. Dark clouds massed in the sky like thick ink being poured over the great mansion.

A fierce wind howled. Screams and wails, both near and distant, flooded the space.

Zhan Changfeng stood with her sword planted in the ground, her face deathly pale, her entire body swaying as if on the verge of collapse. She raised a hand to press over the bloody hole in her abdomen — but the hole was simply too large, as though half her torso had been bitten away along her waistline. No matter how she pressed, her intestines and spleen threatened to spill out along with the blood.

The last yellow streamer broke free. A hundred ghosts howled in unison. Having caught the scent of blood, the hundred ghosts lost all reason entirely and surged toward Zhan Changfeng!

The guards could not see the ghosts’ forms, but they could feel the overwhelming malice and the invisible force. Seeing the state Zhan Changfeng was in, they were all stricken with grief. In that instant they resolved to die fighting, forming a battle formation to protect her at the center.

They drove their inner energy forth, using the vital essence of the living to resist the death-force of the dead. The murderous battle-spirit of soldiers fought back savagely against the yin-malice of the resentful ghosts.

These resentful ghosts were all frenzied and mindless, like a pack of rabid dogs. The black mist watched from above with relish, and plants and rubble alike trembled with its laughter.

Suddenly it witnessed an interesting scene: one resentful ghost, seemingly without awareness, had begun devouring its own kind. With each ghost it consumed, its gaze grew clearer by a fraction, and its form grew more solid by a degree.

By the time it had devoured nine of them, it had taken the form of a young man — robed in blue with a jade crown, refined and handsome in bearing, like a graceful nobleman.

“What manner of thing are you?” the male ghost asked, staring directly at the black mist. Though he was a ghost, his bearing was full of righteousness.

The black mist collected itself, somewhat in disbelief. “The resentment within you is actually receding on its own — just who were you in life?!”

“That question is mine to ask you,” the male ghost said with a cold snort. “A wandering soul from the Nine Underworlds has come to bring calamity to the mortal world.”

The male ghost formed a hand seal, and a ray of golden light struck toward the black mist.

The black mist scattered, then gathered itself together again in an instant. When it spoke again its voice was noticeably weaker, yet it still could not conceal its mockery: “Keh keh keh — so it’s a prized disciple of the Supreme Demon-Slaying Sect — hahahaha, to have died so miserably in this mansion!”

“Vile creature!” The male ghost’s expression darkened. He began chanting an incantation.

The black mist laughed loudly: “You are nothing but a ghost now. Even if you were capable in life, how much of that power can you wield now?!”

A greedy gleam shone from those crimson eyes. The black mist surged forward like a tidal wave to engulf the male ghost — the soul of one who had a connection to immortality in life was a tremendous tonic.

Just as the black mist surrounded the male ghost, a ray of golden light flew out from the side room in the rear courtyard, piercing through the black mist and drawing out a soul-tearing shriek.

That ray of golden light landed in the male ghost’s hand, and its true form was revealed.

It was none other than the nine golden leaves Zhan Changfeng had found.

Now, in addition to the map of Shenzhou’s mountains and rivers, mysterious ancient characters had surfaced upon the golden leaves.

“Hmph. If the Golden Decree had not also been lost here, you would truly have run rampant without restraint.” The male ghost activated his spell formula. The ancient characters swirled in chaos and charged toward the black mist — each character like a mountain, smashing the black mist apart in all directions.

“Just you wait!” The crimson eyes revealed a flash of panic, and the entity fled in a rout.

【Side Story】

One day, our dear little fool spotted a cold-faced little girl wandering about aimlessly, and so trotted over on stubby little legs: “Your Highness, Your Highness, what are you looking for?”

The cold-faced little girl glanced sideways at the little fool and said in a hollow voice: “Have you seen my intestines?”

Pfft hahahaha — the protagonist died in Chapter 18, the whole book is finished, surprised? Thrilled?

(End of Chapter)