Chapter 114: The Five Ghosts

Seeing the clouds of fire-sparrows descending, the fiends of the Ice and Snow Palace remained unconcerned, instinctively summoning wind and snow in response.

Subduing fire with water was their specialty; they found it laughable that this fool would attempt to suppress the experts of the Ice and Snow Palace with fire-based arts. Moreover, they were atop a snowy mountain in the dead of winter—they held every advantage of timing, terrain, and numbers. Where the gale passed, the mountain rocks were instantly encased in layers of ice crystals.

However, contrary to the expectations of the disciples, the fire-sparrows did not fear the blizzard. They pressed onward against the wind, spitting flames that landed directly upon the fiends.

"What kind of fire is this!" someone shrieked in panic.

The fiends were horrified. Born in the Far North and cultivating yin-cold energy, they usually found it easy to deal with fire-cultivators of the same rank. They had been too careless today and had fallen into a trap. While they were adept at extinguishing magical flames with wind and snow, once a fire that defied their blizzard touched their bodies and began to burn their yin foundations, the resulting collision of yin and yang, water and fire, caused agony as if they were being sliced by a thousand knives.

The contrast with the Blood God Sect disciples was stark. They screamed and frantically cast spells, white mysterious light surging from their bodies in an attempt to suppress the flames.

"It is the Solar Bing Fire!"

Among the fiends, one who knew his trade—a man with delicate, feminine features and the most formidable cultivation among them—quickly suppressed the yang flames with a few gestures. Seeing the sparrows still spitting fire, he pulled a silk handkerchief from his robes and flung it into the air. It transformed into a mass of white mist mixed with ice crystals, shimmering with a cold, flickering light.

"Senior Brother, save me!" a fiend cried out upon seeing the treasure released.

The man guided the cold mist to envelop the group, extinguishing the flames. He then transformed the mist into a net and cast it upward, capturing and destroying the remaining fire-sparrows. Not stopping there, he cast the net toward Cheng Xinzhan.

Feeling the incoming chill, Cheng Xinzhan dodged and asked, "What is this thing?"

He was merely asking out of curiosity, but the man controlling the mist actually answered, boasting, "This is the 'Arctic Cold-Light Miasma,' refined from the thousand-year glaciers of the Far North. Do you dare to catch it?"

Cheng Xinzhan dared not take it head-on. As the cold net spread toward him, he spat out a breath of Bing Fire. This time, the fire took the form of a golden rooster, far more solid than the previous sparrows, and lunged at the net. The man’s expression shifted; he had not expected this person to be so bold as to attack a known treasure. He flicked his fingers, causing the net to contract around the golden rooster.

The golden rooster struggled, its sharp beak and claws tearing at the cold net, but after only ten breaths, it was extinguished.

"Truly powerful," Cheng Xinzhan remarked, spitting out a dragon of fire to entangle the net once more.

The man’s eyes widened. Was this person’s yang energy bottomless? Unwilling to play any longer, he withdrew the cold mist and transformed it back into a silk handkerchief. It was visibly scorched with several blackened holes, causing him great distress.

"Retreat!" the man shouted, turning to flee. The others, left in a daze, quickly followed.

"Pursue!"

***

Inside the Blood Cloud Palace, the Blood God Child and Beiyin sat cross-legged, engaged in a spirited conversation, feeling as though they had met too late.

They lamented the division of the Demonic Sects—the South was united but weak, while the North was strong but fragmented. Both men despised this state of affairs and harbored ambitions to restore the prestige of the demonic path and unify the Divine Province. They reached an agreement: the Beiyin Hall and the Blood God Sect would form an alliance to support one another. The Beiyin Hall would help the Blood God Sect become the leader of the Western Sea demonic path, while the Blood God Sect would help the Beiyin Hall suppress the other two halls, elevating Beiyin to a position of ultimate power within the Ice and Snow Palace.

The two foxes, one old and one young, agreed to everything with flowery words, though the extent of their actual support remained to be seen.

"Reporting to the Sect Leader, Shang Sansi of the Five Ghost Gate requests an audience."

As they spoke, a report came from outside. The two exchanged glances. This name was legendary among the northern demonic sects; he was the eldest disciple and foster son of the Five Ghost Heavenly King, Shang Heyang. Currently, the Five Ghost Heavenly King, much like the Red-Haired and Green-Robed Ancestors of the South, was in seclusion attempting to reach the Fifth Realm. For this disciple to come in person was significant.

Beiyin smiled, "Senior, your influence is vast; even the Five Ghost Gate has come to rally for you."

The Blood God Child ordered them to be brought in, then said to Beiyin, "It is fortunate that you came first to help me secure my footing, or there would be no later arrivals!"

Beiyin smiled without a word. That was exactly his intention.

A moment later, a burly, bald, and fierce-looking man strode into the Blood Cloud Palace like a dragon. "Junior is late! I hope you will not take offense, Senior!" he bellowed.

The Blood God Child laughed, "I am delighted you could come, Sansi. How could I take offense?"

"Good, I was afraid of delaying your great cause!"

The man laughed, then seemed to notice the handsome young man beside the Blood God Child. "Beiyin! Why are you here too?!"

Beiyin, who had been amiable toward the Blood God Child, was icy toward the burly man. He gave a cold, expressionless look and ignored him. Shang Sansi did not mind; Beiyin had always been that way.

He turned to the Blood God Child, "Senior, I have brought four hundred disciples to help you crush the arrogance of the righteous path."

The Blood God Child smiled, "I appreciate your effort, Sansi. How many has the Ice and Snow Palace contributed?"

The Blood God Child smiled without answering and gestured for Shang Sansi to sit. "Where are your disciples?"

Shang Sansi chuckled, "I saw the chaos in the north, so I sent them to join the fray. I didn't want the fellow daoists of the Blood God Sect to wait too long."

The Blood God Child’s smile faded slightly at this.

Shang Sansi, however, was thick-skinned. Once seated, he asked, "Senior, Beiyin, in these days of battle, have you encountered any yang-cultivators? We demonic cultivators focus on yin; those possessing yang energy are rare."

The Blood God Child asked with a playful smile, "And why do you ask, Sansi?"

Shang Sansi grinned, "Before my master went into seclusion, he passed down the secret method for refining the 'White Bone Heart-Lock Hammer.' The vessel is ready; I only need the blood of five freshly slain yang-cultivators and the living souls of forty-nine yin-cultivators to awaken the weapon. Finding the yin souls was easy, but the six yang heads are difficult. I have only found two lone righteous cultivators so far, and I am keeping them alive, fearing the heads might spoil. I heard many major righteous sects have come to your mountain, so I thought I would ask."

He flipped his hand, revealing the embryonic form of the hammer. It was a ghastly, pale weapon made of an arm bone, topped with a skull whose eye sockets burned with ghostly fire. Inside, forty-nine tiny human souls drifted and wailed. It was clearly a demonic treasure of the highest order.

"Daoist Shang, the souls in your hammer—they weren't taken from my Ice and Snow Palace disciples, were they?" Beiyin asked, smiling, though his eyes were cold.

Shang Sansi shook his head vigorously, "Beiyin, do not wrong me! We are neighbors; we have no grudges. How could I do such a thing?"

Seeing his feigned indignation, Beiyin nodded slowly, "That is as it should be."

Noticing Beiyin’s lingering suspicion, the Blood God Child intervened, "Has anyone noticed any prominent yang-cultivators among the righteous forces?"

A subordinate thought for a moment and replied, "There is a Third Realm cultivator from Wudang Mountain whose Golden Core manifestation resembles the sun; he must be a yang-cultivator."

Shang Sansi shook his head; even the Five Ghost Heavenly King would hesitate to refine a weapon with the head of a Wudang Golden Core expert.

"What about a First or Second Realm cultivator?" he asked.

The subordinate frowned. He was a commander, focused on preventing Third Realm experts from breaking the mountain formation, and hadn't paid much attention to the lower-level cultivators. Suddenly, his brow relaxed, "There is one. I heard it from the Beiyin Hall disciples. On the eastern slope of the northern line, there is a young man—Cheng Yifu, a disciple of Sanqing Mountain. He uses Solar Bing Fire and is not afraid of the 'Arctic Cold-Light Miasma.' The Beiyin Hall disciples were quite bothered by him. He must be a yang-cultivator."

With the Hall Master of Beiyin present, the subordinate was being polite; the Beiyin disciples were not just "bothered"—they were furious.

Shang Sansi laughed, "That’s him! Solar Bing Fire! Such a person must not reach the Third Realm, or he will be a great threat to our demonic path. Let me go remove him, and take his head as a sacrifice for my hammer!"

Beiyin frowned, "You want to go yourself?"

Shang Sansi was puzzled, "What of it? I’ll be back in no time. Capturing a First Realm brat should be child's play."

Beiyin snorted, "If you go after a First Realm cultivator, won't the righteous side have Third or Fourth Realm experts nearby? If you trigger a larger conflict and the righteous side gets truly angry, will you be the one to protect Senior Blood God?"

The Blood God Child nodded in agreement, "Sansi, do not be impatient. Just tell your subordinates to handle it."

Shang Sansi’s eyes darted around, and he decided not to persist.

***

On the seventh day of the siege, Cheng Xinzhan and his group were moving north when they encountered a group of demonic cultivators. As they prepared to fight, the fiends suddenly shouted, "Cheng Yifu is here!"

"Xinzhan, you’ve become famous. Even the demonic sect knows and fears you," Huang Miaoluo said with a smile.

Cheng Xinzhan gave a wry smile. They did not wait for the enemy to charge but launched an attack themselves. This group included both Ice and Snow Palace and Five Ghost Gate members. They had already experienced the chill of the Ice and Snow Palace, but the Five Ghost Gate was new—they were brutal, using enslaved souls and bone puppets.

However, since yang fire was the nemesis of both, Cheng Xinzhan took the lead.

"That's him! That's him!" The Ice and Snow Palace disciples were cautious, but the Five Ghost Gate fiends were excited to see the golden fire.

After killing two of them, more groups arrived, all from the Five Ghost Gate, all focusing on Cheng Xinzhan. Xiao Miaoyu realized something was wrong. As more fiends arrived, he cast his talisman book, creating a wall of flying characters to hold them back while the group retreated.

Over the next two days, whenever Cheng Xinzhan appeared, he was swarmed by the Five Ghost Gate. They couldn't figure out why.

"Xinzhan, what did you do to the Five Ghost Gate to make them hate you so much?" Xiao Miaoyu asked.

Cheng Xinzhan had no idea, "I don't know. To us, the Blood God Sect, the Ice and Snow Palace, and the Five Ghost Gate are all the same."

They fought and retreated, hoping to lure the enemies away and ease the pressure on other fellow daoists. Soon, reinforcements arrived from afar. As they prepared to flee, they suddenly noticed a black shadow in the enemy ranks. In the blink of an eye, the figure was upon them.

They clearly saw a burly, pot-bellied man with a fierce, bald head. His aura was overwhelming—like a mountain crashing down.

A Third Realm fiend!

The group broke into a cold sweat. The man headed straight for Cheng Xinzhan. As he closed to within twenty paces, Cheng Xinzhan felt his breath hitch. He had dealt with Third Realm experts in the mountains, but they had always restrained their aura. Faced with one radiating pure malice, he realized for the first time that cultivation realm was everything.

"Suppress!" he chanted.

A phantom of the Meiji Mountain appeared, pressing down on the burly man. It was his most solid visualization, formed from Earth energy and weighing a thousand jun. But the man simply charged through, not even raising a hand, and the mountain phantom shattered.

Fifteen paces.

Cheng Xinzhan’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. His left eye turned the color of dawn, releasing brilliant light. A crimson flying sword, thin as a needle, melted into the light and pierced toward the man. This was his hidden trump card.

The man’s expression shifted for the first time, but he was too close to dodge. He could only bow his head and lean aside.

*Swoosh!*

The "Taodu" sword left a long, bloody gash from his shoulder to his back. After being reforged, its first strike had killed a Second Realm cultivator; its second had wounded a Third Realm expert.

However, the man’s hand was already on Cheng Xinzhan’s shoulder. With a single squeeze, Cheng Xinzhan felt his shoulder shatter.

"Heh, good lad, truly impressive. But you’ll have to come with me. I’ll borrow your life to awaken my treasure!"

*Swoosh!*

The "Taodu" returned from the distance, shooting straight toward the man’s skull. But the burly man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head; he tilted his head and dodged. To avoid harming its master, the sword shrank rapidly and vanished into Cheng Xinzhan’s eye.

"Don't bother. Let's go!"

The man hoisted Cheng Xinzhan up and vanished into the distance.

Xiao Miaoyu collapsed to the ground as if struck by lightning, trembling as he rang his bell. The Third Realm had entered the fray. And once again, he had failed to protect his fellow disciple.