Chapter Sixty-Six: Exorcising the Demon

Liang Yan’s expression was grave. He retrieved the Nine Dragons Staff from his storage pouch, ready for battle. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to intervene earlier, but the Crimson-faced Ghost moved so swiftly, draining the souls of the Corpse Ghost Sect disciples in an instant, greatly enhancing his power. Now, only by joining forces could they hope to contend with him.

Beside him, Li Xiran drew her long blade, gripping it tightly, her face tense as she watched the Crimson-faced Ghost. Only the Golden Monkey King remained unconcerned, occasionally baring its teeth at the enemy.

The Crimson-faced Ghost let out a sinister laugh, then slapped his storage pouch. From it flew a red ghost banner and a black wooden stake. The banner hovered in midair, emitting wails and howls, as a strange power descended. Liang Yan and the others, standing beneath the banner, felt their own vital energy being forcibly drained away, bit by bit.

“Fall back!” Liang Yan called out, quickly retreating, intending to escape the banner’s range. But just as he moved, the Crimson-faced Ghost gripped the black stake and plunged it into the ground.

Boom! Black mist erupted from the ground around them, rising rapidly. In the span of a breath, a wall of black fog ten zhang high encircled Liang Yan and his companions, trapping them inside.

The fog wall brimmed with sinister energy; Liang Yan dared not force his way through. He raised the Nine Dragons Staff and struck the wall, but it was as if the blow fell into nothingness—his strength dissipated as if striking tofu, with no resistance at all.

The staff sank deep into the black fog, coils of gloomy energy wrapping around it, their corrosive power fierce. In an instant, the staff’s spiritual aura faded significantly.

Startled, Liang Yan hastily withdrew the staff and used his “Chaotic Power” technique to dispel the baleful energy, calming his heart somewhat. He exchanged a glance with Li Xiran; both instinctively looked up at the ghost banner overhead.

“If we can’t escape for now, we might as well deal with the greatest threat above—the ghost banner!” Li Xiran said, gripping her blade with both hands and leaping high to slash at the banner. Her blade traced a white arc through the air. Liang Yan silently recited an incantation, forming a sword with his fingers, and pointed at the banner—a streak of blue lightning shot toward it.

His Lightning Technique, after so much cultivation, had reached proficiency; he could now summon and release it at will, without prolonged concentration.

The blue lightning and white blade struck the banner simultaneously, but surprisingly, not a sound was heard. The red ghost banner merely trembled slightly, absorbing both attacks without sustaining any damage.

“How is this possible?” Liang Yan thought in shock.

His Lightning Technique was now proficient. Though the lightning wasn’t the highest-grade, it was at least a true thunder method of the world. Ghostly powers fear thunder; it’s their natural nemesis. Yet, his lightning had left the banner unscathed—it was utterly inexplicable…

While Liang Yan and Li Xiran attacked the banner, the Crimson-faced Ghost and Monkey King engaged each other. He watched their actions with disdain.

In the Crimson-faced Ghost’s eyes, only the Monkey King, who had breached the second threshold of Qi Refining like himself, was a worthy opponent; Liang Yan and Li Xiran were beneath his notice. Once the Monkey King was defeated, the three would be prisoners.

Ghostly energy swirled around him as he attacked the Monkey King with his bare hands, showing no fear of its golden staff. He often struck the staff directly, ignoring its sharp aura.

The Monkey King, meanwhile, had to fend off the Crimson-faced Ghost’s ferocious attacks and the stealthy, pervasive ghostly energy that seeped everywhere. Forced onto the defensive, he was gradually pushed back—the difference in strength was clear.

Both were at the eighth stage of Qi Refining, but the Monkey King had only recently advanced and his aura was unstable, weakening his powers.

The Crimson-faced Ghost, on the other hand, had been at this realm for years, mastering insidious ghostly arts, and had just absorbed the souls of six Corpse Ghost Sect cultivators, elevating his strength to the peak of the eighth stage. The gap between them was vast.

Liang Yan saw the Monkey King faltering and wanted to help, but suddenly felt a cold wind behind him. Turning, he was startled. Gray mist churned on the fog wall, and three gray little ghosts crawled out—thin-bodied, with oversized heads.

Their appearance was comical, but their movements were lightning-fast. As soon as they touched down, they lunged at Liang Yan.

With no choice, Liang Yan focused on the little ghosts. No sooner had he engaged them than he heard the ring of blades from nearby. Glancing over, he saw that Li Xiran, too, was beset by three little ghosts.

These little ghosts weren’t particularly powerful, but their movements were swift and coordinated. If an attack missed, they’d immediately retreat, clearly aiming to drain the pair’s spiritual energy.

Under the red ghost banner, the less spiritual energy remained, the faster vital energy was stripped away. This was like boiling frogs slowly—waiting for them to be worn down.

The more Liang Yan fought, the more anxious he became. He called out to Li Xiran, “Heroine, what about your Dragon-Tiger Divine Art? What are you waiting for? Use it to bring down the ghost banner, or we’re all doomed!”

Li Xiran blushed, uncharacteristically embarrassed. “Um…my cultivation isn’t sufficient. I can only use that power once every ten days, and I already used it last time against you…”

Liang Yan almost rolled his eyes in exasperation. “That foolish girl used her ultimate move against me right away, showing no mercy. Now, facing a real enemy, she’s out of options!”

But irritation aside, their priority was escape. He glanced at the Monkey King and Crimson-faced Ghost, then whispered to Li Xiran, “This won’t work. The Crimson-faced Ghost trapped us to defeat us one by one. If the Monkey King falls, we’re dead for sure.”

Li Xiran forced back a little ghost and moved closer, asking softly, “Do you have a plan?”

“Rather than wait for death, we should fight for our lives!” Liang Yan said grimly. “I’ll hold off all the little ghosts. You help the Monkey King ambush the Crimson-faced Ghost.”

“Alone?” Li Xiran hesitated. “It’s easy enough for one of us to handle three ghosts, but facing six at once, I doubt you can last long!”

“That’s my concern, not yours. Just remember, you’ll only get one chance to ambush him. Use everything you’ve got—don’t hold back!”

Li Xiran nodded firmly. “Rest assured, Brother Liang!”

Their plan made, they moved together, switching from one-on-one with three ghosts each to fighting six together.

Back to back, Liang Yan suddenly swept his sleeve, releasing a small red wooden box. With two fingers to his chest, he murmured an incantation.

Bang!

Thousands of red needles shot from the box, forming a cloud of fire in midair. On closer look, it was only the afterimage of the flying needles.

The real needles struck the little ghosts, who shrieked and retreated a few steps. Liang Yan shouted, “Now!”

Li Xiran understood, kicking off and darting through the opening left by the retreating ghosts, charging straight toward the Crimson-faced Ghost.

The little ghosts weren’t corporeal; though struck by the Red Pine Needles, they weren’t injured, merely startled by the contained fire energy. Black mist rolled over their bodies, suppressing the flames, and they lunged again at Liang Yan. The three that had attacked Li Xiran screeched, chasing after her.

Liang Yan’s figure flickered, blocking all six ghosts by himself. He planted the Nine Dragons Staff in the ground, then assumed a strange stance: horse stance, arched back, left hand resting on his right arm, right fist thrust forward—this was the “One Fist Appearance” from his Chaotic Power technique.

His cultivation was far greater than at the Cuilin Mountain auction, when he was just a greenhorn at Qi Refining stage one. Now, as he unleashed “One Fist Appearance,” golden light surged within him, Buddhist power cleansing the area.

The six little ghosts recoiled in fear, clustering together and pouring their combined power into the frontmost ghost, whose claws wreathed in black energy, slowly punched toward Liang Yan.

Boom!

Gold and black collided with a thunderous crash. Liang Yan stumbled back several steps, blood trickling from his lips. The six little ghosts also suffered, collapsing to the ground, listless.

While Liang Yan battled the six ghosts, Li Xiran rushed toward the Crimson-faced Ghost.

With his cultivation, the Crimson-faced Ghost naturally noticed her. He was suppressing the Monkey King, close to victory, when Li Xiran charged. He sneered, “A mere ant thinks to harm me?”

He raised one hand to his chest, preparing a spell, when Li Xiran threw out a jade figurine.

The figurine depicted a man in white robes, gentle and humble in appearance, but with piercing eyes. He held a whisk in one hand and a sword at his back, resembling a Daoist ancestor.

The jade floated in midair, radiating gentle light. Liang Yan felt nothing in particular, but the Crimson-faced Ghost, upon seeing it, seemed struck by thunder—he spat blood and staggered back three steps, his knees nearly buckling.

“What is this?!” The Crimson-faced Ghost forced down his panic, demanding an answer.

Li Xiran ignored him, tumbling through the air to strike from above, her blade whistling, forming a frosty arc as she slashed at him.

Though wounded by the jade, the Crimson-faced Ghost still surpassed Li Xiran in power. Regaining composure, his eyes glinted with malice as he countered, ghostly energy surging in his palm as he struck at her.

Liang Yan, having just finished with the six ghosts, saw this and shouted, “No! Get out of the way!”

But Li Xiran seemed not to hear, neither dodging nor retreating, still swinging her blade.

As the Crimson-faced Ghost’s palm neared, Li Xiran merely twisted slightly, avoiding a fatal blow.

Bang! The Crimson-faced Ghost’s palm landed solidly on her slender waist. Li Xiran spat blood, but her eyes showed no hesitation—she gritted her teeth and drove her blade into his chest.

Bang! Bang!

Two crashes echoed—one was the Monkey King arriving, smashing the Crimson-faced Ghost’s skull with his staff; the other was Li Xiran, sent flying like a paper kite, crashing against the rocks, shattering them.