Chapter 305: Ritual Money, Old Capital (32)
In folk legends, the image of the eighteen layers of hell often appeared.
The Hell of Tongue Extraction, the Mirror of Retribution Hell… but few people knew that thousands of years ago, in the old Fengdu, there had also been a hell.
This was the Nine-Layer Hell. It paid no attention to the reason or type of sin—only to the severity of the evil committed.
The more grievous the sin, the deeper the soul would sink—until it was forever unable to reincarnate.
Even those who had committed monstrous crimes in life rarely endured the torment of hell. Some broke down completely and went mad, while many more fell and transformed into even more malevolent spirits.
The deepest layer of hell was a place of unimaginable horror. Even the ghosts that resided within old Fengdu turned pale at the mention of it.
The fierce ghosts imprisoned there all carried the weight of thousands of human lives. Some had caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands, whether directly or indirectly. Their evil deeds were beyond record or description.
Their overwhelming sins, and the hatred of countless other spirits who died because of them, had turned into a thick, eerie black mist that filled the lowest depths of hell.
This place was pitch dark, so utterly devoid of light it could drive any soul insane. Even the fierce spirits themselves quickly lost their minds, becoming confused and hollow, stripped of any trace of their former consciousness.
But this was precisely the purpose of the old Fengdu.
—What was the best way to hide a tree?
Hide it in a forest.
The old Fengdu wanted to use the dense ghostly aura of the many spirits to cloak its own existence. However, it didn’t want the “forest” to possess any awareness that might uncover its secrets.
After that ancient battle with Ye Li a thousand years ago, the old Fengdu had truly become afraid. It couldn’t swallow its anger, but neither did it dare to confront the Lord of Fengdu and the Great Dao head-on. After hiding and scraping by for over a thousand years, it had developed an overly cautious, even petty, way of handling things.
The reason the old Fengdu managed to survive at all was because, after the death of the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, it had borrowed a sliver of ghost deity power. That power gave the city a sense of sentience, and from there, it began to instinctively seek survival.
In other words, to the old Fengdu, the most important thing now was that original sliver of ghost deity power—the very source of its sentient existence—and the true form it had shaped into a physical body.
Because of that initial divine power, the old Fengdu had first awakened its intelligence and, based on that, started to grow.
Even the judgment of the Ghost Dao stemmed from that original cause and effect tied to the old Fengdu.
If it were destroyed, it would be like the collapse of a foundation—the entire edifice would come crashing down.
The old Fengdu knew how critical that power was, so it hid it within the deepest layer of hell, covering it with layers of spell formations and burying it beneath waves of ghostly aura, determined to keep the secret hidden from all.
However, what the old Fengdu could imagine, so too could the ghost official who had witnessed its existence over thousands of years.
He even knew that the old Fengdu had hidden the core of its being in the lowest hell.
To ensure absolute security, the old Fengdu had placed countless obstacles in every descending layer of hell. That way, even if there was a minuscule chance—one in ten million—that someone managed to enter the hell of old Fengdu, they would be stopped by those layers upon layers of barriers and never reach the bottom.
But the old Fengdu never anticipated that the ghost official would pass down the image of the general—and that the ebony statue would sense the presence of evil and take form because of it.
And the general had no interest in playing by the rules of the old Fengdu.
He was, by nature, a being that shattered rules and rebuilt death itself. To him, there was only breaking free and creating new life—never clinging to the past.
With a single strike of his sword, the general pierced through all nine layers of hell. All the barriers the old Fengdu had painstakingly left behind became meaningless. The general brought Yan Shixun and the others straight into the deepest hell. The old Fengdu tried to stop them but couldn’t even get close to the general before it was cut down by the hundred thousand ghost soldiers who followed him. Every fierce ghost was reduced to ashes.
Ye Li, who was waiting in the deepest layer of hell, was not someone who would sit around and wait for death.
He directly overturned the entire underworld, letting ghostly energy spread, dispelling the darkness. Even the earth collapsed and was reconstructed.
At that moment, all the preparations the old Fengdu had made to conceal that trace of ghost deity power were completely destroyed by the tacit cooperation between Ye Li and the general.
It was as if the skin had been peeled back, exposing a blood-red heart beating within bare white bones.
So fragile, as if it no longer had any protection.
As the King of Hell nervously watched the general unseal his own power, his heart leapt into his throat. He instinctively gripped the folding fan in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
The official in charge and the others present only saw the superficial improvements. They didn’t realize that the undercurrents below were the real crisis.
The underworld was unable to set foot in the southwest, and until the old Fengdu was completely destroyed, Fengdu would not include this region under its jurisdiction.
For thousands of years, the peace and stability of the southwest had depended on the existence of the ebony statue.
Although the general had never taken physical form or spoken, he had silently protected the southwestern lands. Any true danger that touched upon his power and entered his awareness had been completely eliminated, preventing those evil spirits from disturbing the peaceful lives of the living.
Exorcists on earth often turned pale at the mention of the southwest. It was a well-known ghost domain and danger zone. Everyone knew that ghosts here accumulated without reincarnation, wandering among humans. It wasn’t rare to turn a corner and encounter a confused, lost spirit.
Places buried deep underground, like subways, were areas where even ordinary people could see ghosts appearing. Social media was constantly filled with people sharing their ghost encounters in the southwest.
What those exorcists on earth didn’t know was that without the existence of the ebony statue, the situation in the southwest would have been a thousand times worse.
But the King of Hell had understood everything the moment he saw the ebony statue.
He had personally witnessed Fengdu rise from the earth. He had seen the general stand on a battlefield soaked in blood stretching for miles, roaring in fury as he swore an oath to demand justice from the ghost deities.
Even in the era when the gods had not yet fallen, the King of Hell had been the one who knew the general’s past and actions best.
Therefore, the King of Hell understood more clearly than anyone else that once the general unsealed his power, it would mean that the entire southwest lost its protection. Like a pearl stripped of its shell, it would be left for the greedy to take at will.
This also meant that from this moment on, there was no turning back.
Ye Li had to defeat the old Fengdu’s consciousness in the shortest time possible, erase the old Fengdu, and redraw the southwest into Fengdu’s jurisdiction. Only then could the land and all life upon it be protected again, with all evil spirits sealed outside.
Otherwise, even a delay of fifteen minutes could lead to irreversible disaster.
Though the King of Hell constantly complained about Ye Li and often provoked him with a smile, at the same time, he had more faith in Ye Li’s strength than anyone else.
Yet even so, when the moment truly arrived, the King of Hell couldn’t help but feel tense.
He didn’t explain the situation to the official in charge and the others nearby. He didn’t want to cause panic at such a critical time.
But the change in his expression—no longer relaxed and in control as usual—caught Yan Shixun’s attention.
Yan Shixun had been watching Ye Li.
The Lord of Fengdu stood tall and steady amidst a battlefield of galloping warhorses. Even someone like Yan Shixun, who had always been indifferent to appearances and personal feelings, found his gaze entirely drawn to him.
Ye Li filled his entire field of vision, and in his eyes, a flash of amazement appeared.
At this moment, Yan Shixun finally felt the weight of Ye Li’s identity.
This man wasn’t just the one who stood by his side every day, someone he could see whenever he turned around.
He was the Lord of Fengdu—master of death and judgment. All the dead souls were under his command. Even the Great Dao feared him and asked him to bear its burden.
—The only ghost deity in all existence who had passed through ancient death and destruction yet still remained.
When Ye Li gave the command and a hundred thousand ghost soldiers charged toward the old Fengdu’s consciousness with overwhelming momentum, Yan Shixun felt as if the iron hooves of warhorses trampling the earth had also landed on his heart.
Every sound of hooves and clashing swords echoed his own heartbeat.
Yan Shixun looked deeply at Ye Li. His eyes, which had always held the vastness of heaven and earth, now finally focused on one single person.
Ye… Li…
Yan Shixun softly called Ye Li’s name in his heart. His teeth gently ground together as his voice trembled quietly.
At the corners of his lips, a faint smile appeared.
Death and blood, power and authority intertwined.
Under Ye Li’s command, hell was instantly transformed into a battlefield of slaughter.
Such a sight crashed deeply into Yan Shixun’s eyes—and even more so into his heart.
He suddenly felt that with Ye Li’s presence in his life, perhaps… it wasn’t so bad after all?
And it was at this moment that Yan Shixun, from the corner of his eye, caught a glimpse of the King of Hell’s tense expression. He couldn’t help but furrow his brows slightly.
In Yan Shixun’s memory, the King of Hell had always been smiling. It was as though he had experienced countless deaths and rebirths, and nothing in this world could disturb his thoughts or weigh on his heart.
He had always handled things with ease and confidence.
But now, the King of Hell was visibly nervous.
As Yan Shixun’s gaze lowered, he saw the folding fan almost snapped in half in the King’s hand.
His brow arched slightly, the smile at the corners of his lips gradually fading. The look he gave the King of Hell turned serious.
His eyes carried a powerful aura and undeniable presence. Because he did it deliberately, the King of Hell quickly noticed Yan Shixun’s inquiring gaze.
The moment their eyes met, the King of Hell realized that Yan Shixun must have already guessed what he was thinking. So he gave a bitter smile and slowly shook his head at Yan Shixun, not intending to hide anything—though it was far from easy.
He silently mouthed the words: “There isn’t much time left for Ye Li. If within one hour he can’t completely wipe out the remnants of the old Fengdu, disaster will strike the southwest, and there will be countless casualties.”
Yan Shixun’s heart immediately sank.
After a brief moment of shock, he quickly composed himself. Determination and clarity shone in his eyes.
Just then, as a cavalryman shrouded in black mist galloped past him, Yan Shixun reacted swiftly, snatching the longsword from the soldier’s waist and gripping it in his hand.
“Borrowing your sword for now—thanks.”
With that, Yan Shixun charged forward, stepping hard on the head of a fierce ghost that had just emerged from the ground. With a forceful push, he crushed its skull and leapt up, dodging the ghost corpses strewn across the battlefield, soaring through the air like a shadow.
He moved so fast that even the air was left with an afterimage.
The official in charge, watching the battlefield, rubbed his eyes in confusion. “What… just flew past?”
Even the King of Hell, who had just been silently conversing with Yan Shixun, hadn’t expected him to act so decisively. No hesitation—he said it and immediately did it.
After his initial surprise, the King of Hell finally relaxed a little. A smile returned to his eyes.
If Yan Shixun truly possessed the “Evil Spirit Bone Transformation,” then this clash between the old and new Fengdu no longer held any suspense.
From the moment Yan Shixun chose Ye Li, victory had already belonged to Ye Li.
“He is… a miracle between heaven and earth—the hope entrusted to him by the Great Dao.”
The King of Hell lowered his long lashes and sighed softly with a faint smile.
Meanwhile, the general galloping across the battlefield never imagined someone could so effortlessly take his weapon. For a warrior, it was not only unthinkable—it was a blatant act of suppression and denial, a glaring message: “You are not as skilled.”
What shocked the general even more was when he looked up and saw that the person who had taken his weapon… was a living soul.
This battle-hardened general sat frozen on his warhorse, staring blankly at Yan Shixun’s retreating figure, unable to snap out of it for a long time.
It wasn’t until other soldiers rode past and noticed his dazed state, then followed his gaze, that realization dawned on them.
One kindhearted soldier explained to the dumbfounded general: “That’s… the commander’s wife—the future master of Fengdu.”
—That’s someone so powerful he can completely suppress the Lord of Fengdu. Even the Lord acts meekly in front of him. So what if he took your sword? Sounds pretty normal.
Understand?
General: …I get it.
With complicated feelings, the general stared at Yan Shixun, who had already plunged into the sea of ghosts, and memorized his appearance carefully to avoid repeating the mistake.
He even kindly passed the news on to other soldiers who hadn’t caught on yet.
After all, not every soldier had the sharp instincts they’d possessed in life.
While many soldiers who had followed Ye Li in clearing out evil had already seen Yan Shixun and even witnessed interactions between the two, even hearing Ye Li entrust his divine name and power to Yan Shixun—understanding their relationship and how deeply the Lord of Fengdu was captivated by the “Evil Spirit Bone Transformation”—there were still many others who hadn’t witnessed any of this.
General: If we accidentally anger the Madam of Fengdu, it might be even scarier than opposing the Lord himself.
Before long, whispers about the Madam of Fengdu spread among the ranks. From the darkness and the mist, subtle and hidden gazes turned toward Yan Shixun.
One hundred thousand ghost soldiers silently etched the future master of Fengdu into their very souls, their eyes weaving an invisible net.
But Yan Shixun had no time to care about the soldiers brushing past him.
He rushed straight into the horde of evil spirits, his sword rising and falling, scattering them like broken souls and lost spirits.
On the chaotic battlefield, he forcibly carved a path that led straight to where Ye Li stood.
The dark ground was suddenly swept clean, forming a clear, unobstructed road. Naturally, Ye Li noticed the change.
When he saw Yan Shixun charging toward him with sword in hand, he also spotted the “Ye” character engraved on the sword’s hilt. He knew right away that Yan Shixun had borrowed the weapon from one of the soldiers.
Even though he understood this, Ye Li couldn’t help the smile that appeared in his eyes upon seeing his name on something held by Yan Shixun. The icy gloom brought on by the old Fengdu’s existence finally began to thaw.
“Shixun?”
Ye Li called softly, showing no sign of wariness or alarm despite Yan Shixun approaching him with a weapon.
Instead, he worried about Yan Shixun’s safety, warning that with swords and knives swinging wildly on the battlefield, he might get hurt by a stray blow.
Yan Shixun didn’t care about himself. He only asked earnestly, “If the southwest can’t be brought under Fengdu’s domain in time, the people there will be harmed by evil spirits, won’t they?”
Ye Li nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry, Shixun. I won’t let that happen.”
His gaze swept across the distant generals, then returned, and he said coolly, “That guy wants to beat me? He can wait for the next Great Dao cycle.”
Ye Li: Don’t think I don’t know what that guy’s trying to do—making me look bad just to raise his own image in Shixun’s eyes? Hah, not a chance!
But Yan Shixun wasn’t thinking about that general at all. His whole heart was focused on the battlefield and the safety of the southwest.
For someone capable of fighting, the worst torment was standing at the edge of battle, anxiously waiting for results without being able to change them.
Yan Shixun didn’t hesitate for a second. He pushed Ye Li from his mind, gripped the sword, and charged into the horde of ghosts gathering on the ground like bloodsucking leeches.
All he left behind was Ye Li, standing frozen in place, with his outstretched hand hanging awkwardly in the air, unable to grab hold of Yan Shixun.
The stern sharpness in Ye Li’s brows and eyes showed a rare trace of grievance.
The soldiers who had been watching Yan Shixun—and thus noticed Ye Li—fell silent: ………
But Ye Li was not Yan Shixun. He lifted his crow-feather-like eyelashes slightly and swept his cold gaze around him.
The ghost soldiers silently turned their heads away, as if nothing had happened.
They still looked like the awe-inspiring Yin Soldiers of Fengdu.
But when they glanced at each other, they all exchanged knowing looks and gave subtle nods, clearly understanding that this living soul wasn’t some future Lord of Fengdu—
—He already was.
The fierce ghosts had been crushed under the iron hooves of warhorses, their bones scattered in all directions, so shattered that not even a complete corpse could be pieced together.
Although the lowest level of hell was an unspeakably terrifying existence to nearly all beings—be they gods, ghosts, or humans—it was nothing in the eyes of the one hundred thousand elite underworld soldiers of Fengdu, who were well-trained and battle-hardened through a millennium of experience.
Under the charge of the warhorses, the fierce ghosts quickly fell apart, their formation shattered like loose sand. The blades and swords in the underworld soldiers’ hands slashed them into fragments of bone and blood, their broken bodies collapsing onto the ground.
Yet more and more of these fierce ghosts continuously emerged from beneath the earth, replenishing the fallen and returning to the battlefield.
The old Fengdu’s strategy was painfully obvious—it aimed to exhaust Fengdu’s forces through relentless waves of combat, dragging out time as much as possible.
Since Yan Shixun and the others cared about the lives in the southwest, the old Fengdu treated all life in that region as hostages, issuing a silent threat.
It seemed to say, If you truly care about the southwest, then surrender without resistance.
Yan Shixun had mostly seen through the old Fengdu’s intentions, but he didn’t even want to give it the chance to negotiate or stall. He only scoffed, rolling his eyes toward the darkened sky, and wielded his long sword without mercy, cutting down ghost after ghost.
He advanced against the tide, pushing through all resistance, heading straight toward the densest cluster of ghosts. His gaze calmly swept across the ground and the sky, as if searching for something.
Yan Shixun was looking for the old Fengdu’s sentience.
Everyone who knew the inside story assumed by habit that the old Fengdu had hidden its shred of ghostly divine power within the lowest layer of hell, where it formed the sky above.
After all, that was the best way to control the entire space.
But as Yan Shixun calmly observed the unfolding battle, a quiet suspicion rose in his heart—
——Why hasn’t the old Fengdu panicked yet?
Just like a person would surely grow anxious when an enemy approached their most precious treasure, that kind of emotion would inevitably show through in some way.
Yan Shixun considered himself extremely sensitive to hostile intentions and emotional shifts on the battlefield of exorcism and ghost-hunting. If the enemy displayed even a trace of negative emotion, he would surely pick up on it.
Yet now, he intuitively felt that the battlefield hadn’t reached the pitch of absolute tension.
Fengdu considered the old Fengdu a defeated foe. Meanwhile, the old Fengdu didn’t think its core had truly been threatened by Fengdu.
Neither side had been pushed to its emotional limits.
As for Fengdu’s side, Yan Shixun could understand their confidence. Given Fengdu’s current strength, that confidence was well-founded.
But where did the old Fengdu’s calmness come from?
What’s more, Yan Shixun noticed that although the tide of ghosts surged endlessly and the exhausting war of attrition couldn’t be avoided—indeed, even Fengdu took the delay seriously—the very choice of such a tactic seemed too leisurely for a matter of life and death.
It was as if the old Fengdu wasn’t truly worried about its destruction.
It hadn’t yet been cornered.
There was only one possibility that could explain the situation:
—Fengdu’s assault on the lowest level of hell was indeed intense, but in the old Fengdu’s view, it had missed the mark at the crucial moment, failing to strike at its true core.
In other words, that shred of ghostly divine power wasn’t in the sky.
But in—
Yan Shixun lowered his head and looked at the ground beneath his feet, now soaked in blood and scattered with flesh.
—The earth.
Many people, when trying to conceal the truth, liked to use a completely misleading direction to confuse onlookers, leading all who sought the truth astray so they’d pursue something entirely false. The farther one was from the truth, the safer it felt.
Perhaps the old Fengdu thought the same way.
Yan Shixun lowered his eyes to the earth below, his steps slowing slightly.
He tried to place himself in the old Fengdu’s position, thinking from its perspective in hopes of getting closer to the truth.
Terrified by Ye Li, the old Fengdu had fallen from lofty heights into the abyss, losing all its former composure and becoming cautious.
After struggling to survive for a thousand years, the old Fengdu had grown overly careful. To avoid detection by the Great Dao, it had even become paranoid, never feeling secure in its safety.
So when it came to that one crucial shred of power, the old Fengdu would have guarded it with the utmost care. Even if it had been buried in the lowest depths of hell, it still wouldn’t have been enough—it would have created a decoy, preparing for the worst.
If all its defenses were breached and the Great Dao truly found the lowest level of hell, it would be presented with a false target. While the Dao focused all its might on this “old Fengdu,” the real core of its power could be quietly and safely moved elsewhere.
That way, the old Fengdu could escape once more and continue its miserable survival.
So if everyone believed the target lay in the sky, it meant the old Fengdu’s true foundation was buried deep in the ground.
Yan Shixun’s gaze toward the earth darkened and deepened.
At that moment, Li Chengyun’s voice rang out from the distance.
“Xiao Xun, I’ve been in hell for many years—but I wasn’t just sitting around in the dark.”
Li Chengyun raised his voice, his magnetic tone cutting clearly through the screams and clashing metal of the battlefield, reaching Yan Shixun’s ears: “I saw that the deepest power comes from beneath the earth.”
“It isn’t the sky that is dark—it’s the ground. The final resting place of life is the abyss, steeped in dense ghostly energy.”
Li Chengyun was not someone who let his environment dictate his emotions. No matter the circumstances, his faith and goals remained unshaken.
He knew where the Great Dao of life led.
Even in complete darkness, where others would have collapsed, Li Chengyun maintained clarity of mind. He cultivated through endless recitations of sacred texts, refining both power and virtue with each repetition.
He could perceive the flow of heaven and earth. So within this hell created by the old Fengdu, he could naturally sense the “heaven and earth” of this hell as well.
In the darkness, Li Chengyun had clearly felt that the fierce ghosts feared the earth beneath their feet. The source of all power sustaining this hell lay beneath the ground.
He had remembered that detail but hadn’t known exactly what lay below the surface.
Until he saw Yan Shixun pause in the midst of battle, his gaze fixed on the earth below.
Like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky, Li Chengyun instantly connected the two pieces of information. Realizing what Yan Shixun was questioning, he also found the answer.
“What you’re looking for lies beneath the earth. As long as the ground and the abyss below it are destroyed, the power will vanish on its own.”
As Yan Shixun turned to him in surprise, Li Chengyun smiled and nodded slightly: “Since I chose to walk into danger alone, I naturally prepared accordingly. Xiao Xun—never underestimate your master.”
Yan Shixun blinked slowly, then smiled as well.
“I’ve never doubted your strength, Master. I know exactly what kind of person you are. Besides, I trust in my own power and judgment too.”
Smiling, Yan Shixun lowered his eyes again to the ground. But now, his gaze turned cold.
That shred of ghostly divine power wasn’t a tangible thing. But if the old Fengdu wanted to use it as the basis for birthing sentience, and to support its crumbling city, it had to convert that power into something material.
That way, it could both sustain the ruined, drifting remnants of the old Fengdu—keeping alive a city that should have disappeared a thousand years ago—and hide its power in plain sight.
—The entire expanse of earth in the lowest layer of hell was the physical manifestation of that power.
So long as the earth was shattered…
Yan Shixun’s eyes turned completely cold. The long sword in his hand, which had originally been aimed at the evil spirit, slowly shifted—now pointing directly at the ground.
In that instant, Yan Shixun could feel even the air around him freeze.
It was as if the Old Fengdu had realized Yan Shixun’s true intent—alarmed and desperate to stop him, yet hesitant, afraid that Yan Shixun was merely guessing and lacked concrete proof. So even in its urgency, it dared not act rashly. It could only remain still, staring intently at Yan Shixun, waiting—waiting for the outcome.
It was like the agony of a man awaiting execution, never knowing when the executioner’s blade would fall — a torment far worse than death itself.
The corners of Yan Shixun’s lips curled up slightly, but in his heart, he silently called out Ye Li’s name.
At the same time, he began to recite an incantation under his breath.
Ye Li seemed to sense something. He immediately looked up and met Yan Shixun’s gaze.
The battlefield roared with clashing soldiers and chaotic shadows of the living and the dead, but nothing could obstruct the meeting of their eyes.
In the heart of the battlefield, through the boundary of life and death between humans and ghosts, their gazes locked in a deep connection.
Yan Shixun slowly blinked and smiled at Ye Li, confirming his guess.
He said, “I’m asking to borrow your divine power, Lord of Fengdu—are you willing to entrust your strength to me, so we may fight against the Ghost Dao and destroy the old Fengdu?”
Ye Li’s sharp features softened with a smile, and a sweetness he hadn’t even realized slipped into his usually low and calm voice. “I’m willing.”
He looked at Yan Shixun intently, as if trying to etch the beloved exorcist into his memory, unwilling to let go of the man who had asked him such a question — a man he wanted to keep in sight forever.
Then, Ye Li lowered his gaze to the ground beneath his feet.
At the same time, he began to recite an ancient, mystical incantation in a low voice, his slender fingers swiftly forming hand seals in front of him.
The Fengdu Emperor’s Seal formed in Ye Li’s hands.
The one who had long refused to shoulder the Great Dao, the one who had remained indifferent to his identity as a ghost deity — Ye Li — finally, in this moment, became the sole god within the old Fengdu’s hell.
The ghost deity rose from death, and with cold resolve, stood in opposition to the Ghost Dao.
Fengdu’s power spread at lightning speed, rapidly enveloping the battlefield.
The Taoists, who had lost all means of exorcism due to the dominance of the Ghost Dao and the failure of their talismans, suddenly realized with shock — the powers they thought lost were now slowly reawakening within their meridians.
Though this new strength felt different from before — not born from the Great Dao or vitality, but more like a rebirth after seeing through death — it was still a joyous discovery for the Taoists.
This meant they no longer had to stand helplessly on the battlefield’s edge. If they could borrow divine power, they could use their talismans again. They could protect those around them, and kill the fierce ghosts.
The Taoist’s eyes lit up. His spirit surged as he began to chant the once-familiar talismans he had memorized long ago.
The talismans took effect.
At the same time, Yan Shixun also felt a tremendous power surge into his meridians — vast, overwhelming, like the boundless ocean, immeasurable in its depth.
With every breath, his power trembled and soared rapidly, soon rising to match the heights of heaven and earth.
Yan Shixun smiled faintly, lifted an eyebrow at Ye Li in the distance, then calmed his heart and mind. He directed the force to circulate through his meridians, fiercely gathering in his sword.
He lowered his gaze, eyes cold as he stared at the earth. From his lips, each word was pronounced clearly and forcefully, echoing with penetrating power that radiated across all of hell.
“The Lord of Fengdu teaches me to slay ghosts, and with his divine blessing, I shall—”
As the first syllable hit the air, the old Fengdu finally realized—this was not merely Yan Shixun’s speculation.
—No. Even if he had no proof, he would still strike without hesitation.
He would never let the old Fengdu go.
The old Fengdu roared in fury and fear. The earth and sky trembled violently as countless fierce ghosts poured out like a tide, as if receiving a death command. They bared fangs and claws, charging at the soldiers of Fengdu and the rescue team, trying to tear apart every intruder who had stepped into the deepest level of hell.
Yan Shixun, having uncovered the truth and acted immediately, became the greatest thorn in the old Fengdu’s side. The old Fengdu wanted nothing more than to rip him apart and devour his flesh and blood.
Countless fierce ghosts swarmed around Yan Shixun, determined to stop him before his talisman could fully take shape.
But the old Fengdu only had experience dealing with ordinary exorcists — they clearly knew nothing of Yan Shixun.
Most exorcists focused primarily on talismans, with less emphasis on physical strength.
But Yan Shixun had never been a conventional exorcist. In this field, he had always stood apart.
Constantly dwelling on the edge of danger, brushing shoulders with death, he had long grown used to battling hordes of ghosts.
He could easily break up a massacre by evil spirits or snatch someone back from the brink of death.
What allowed him to stride so confidently between life and death, guarding the boundary between the living and the dead, was not only his talismans, but more importantly—
His own power.
Yan Shixun had honed his martial arts to near perfection. Even in places devoid of talismans and divine power, his physical skill alone allowed him to move with utter composure.
The old Fengdu tried to use fierce ghosts to kill him — but instead stepped right into his specialty.
His tall, slender frame moved with speed and grace like a soaring eagle. With a single sweep of his hand, he wiped out a swath of ghosts.
Among them, one particularly rotted, skeletal ghost caught his eye. Yan Shixun deliberately let it charge toward him, watching with a pleased smile.
Then he grabbed its skull with one hand.
The unfortunate ghost didn’t even have time to react before Yan Shixun swung it like a club, spinning it with such ferocity that it sent the surrounding ghosts flying ten meters away.
On what had once been a battlefield cloaked in darkness, a sudden, pristine circle of clarity appeared.
Not even a speck of dust remained.
And that unlucky ghost, after being used as a makeshift broom, had its neck twisted with a loud *crack!* and was casually tossed into the pile of ghostly corpses.
Even the fierce ghosts hesitated before Yan Shixun, whose brutality now rivaled their own. Fear crept into their hearts, and none dared move closer.
Seizing the moment, Yan Shixun raised his long sword high, channeled immense force into it, then slammed it down with thunderous power, driving it deep into the earth until even the hilt vanished.
The shockwave of power rippled outward, spreading layer by layer.
All the fierce ghosts standing on the ground immediately stumbled. Many were thrown down, and the moment they touched the ground infused with this force, they let out shrill screams and disintegrated into ash.
Yet, this power had no effect on the soldiers of Fengdu or the officials present.
The Fengdu troops rode their warhorses forward, trampling down a path through the dense mass of ghosts, clearing a way straight to Yan Shixun.
The warhorses reared and halted just a short distance from him. The soldiers formed a wall with their bodies, glaring coldly at the surrounding ghosts, allowing not a single one to approach or disturb Yan Shixun.
Yan Shixun focused all his attention on the sword embedded in the earth. He chanted talismans non-stop as divine power poured endlessly from his meridians into the sword.
“Split the mountain stone, bear the Fengdu Seal, wear the canopy crown, tread upon the Kui Gang star…”
The chant grew faster and more urgent, as if it were a death sentence aimed at the evil spirits.
The surging energy gathered into an overwhelming force, shaking the heavens. Yan Shixun’s voice rose to match it. He suddenly opened his eyes wide, glaring fiercely at the earth. His gaze was sharp and untouchable as he roared:
“First slay the evil spirit, then sever the night’s glow.”
“What god dares not submit? What ghost dares block the way? In the name of the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor—fall and perish!”
His powerful voice rang out like a sword, not only splitting through the deepest layers of hell but even striking toward the heart of the Old Fengdu itself.
The long sword Yan Shixun had thrust into the ground became like a nail driven into the vital weakness of the Old Fengdu. Using it as his point of attack, he directed all his strength straight into it.
The earth trembled as if struck by a great quake. Centered on the embedded sword, thick cracks spread rapidly into the distance.
Ghostly energy spilled out from the abyss below, and vengeful spirits began to crawl up.
But Yan Shixun—he was smiling.
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