Deep in the mountain forest, a solitary manor stood.
The manor was without light or fire, eerily silent, shrouded in faint mist, exuding an inexplicable, uncanny atmosphere.
The man and woman ahead exchanged a glance, then looked back at the two pursuers closing in. Without hesitation, they leapt lightly, vanishing into the manor in the blink of an eye.
Lu Zheng and Yan Hongxia halted at the manor’s entrance.
“This place feels off!”
“Such heavy netherworld qi!”
Lu Zheng quipped, “Could it be a ghost king’s summer retreat in the mortal world?”
“Can’t rule it out,” Yan Hongxia replied, her eyes glinting with divine light. She leapt over the wall into the courtyard.
Lu Zheng shook his head and followed.
…
“Hm?”
As Lu Zheng landed inside, he sensed something amiss.
“Miss Yan?”
The manor was deathly quiet, enveloped in faint mist, silent except for the lingering netherworld qi. Not a single ghost was in sight.
The man and woman who had entered earlier were gone…
Yan Hongxia was gone too…
Lu Zheng turned, only to see thick mist behind him, neither thin nor dense. The wall, which should have been three feet away, had vanished, leaving only mist and a stone path stretching in all directions.
“Interesting…” Lu Zheng’s eyes flickered as he murmured to himself.
Ordinarily, a powerful ghost king would dwell deep in the netherworld. Even if one ventured to the mortal realm, setting up a manor here was unlikely.
The netherworld qi he sensed outside was several degrees weaker than that of the netherworld itself.
Thus, Yan Hongxia had judged the ghost’s strength to be average and charged in without hesitation, with Lu Zheng following decisively.
He hadn’t expected this ghost to deliver such a surprise.
Lu Zheng blinked, circulating his true qi, focusing it in his eyes. His pupils shimmered, cloud-like patterns flashing as he scanned his surroundings.
Silent, mist-laden, not a sound.
Lu Zheng took a deep breath, unstoppered the gourd at his waist, and tapped it lightly.
“Whoosh!”
A peachwood sword appeared in his hand.
Holding the sword, he activated an exorcism spell and swung it behind him.
“Slash!”
A flash of green light scattered the netherworld qi, clearing a large area.
Yet, Lu Zheng saw nothing else, and the dispersed qi reformed within three breaths.
To challenge the heavens alone was not the way of the wise.
So, Lu Zheng stopped probing. He shielded himself with cloud qi, holding the peachwood sword in one hand and forming a true cloud spell with the other, cautiously proceeding along the stone path.
“Hm?”
Lu Zheng glanced around. The mist was thick, no one in sight, yet he felt an intermittent sense of being watched.
“Invisibility? Illusion?”
As he prepared to investigate, several ghostly shadows flickered through the mist.
“Swish! Swish! Swish!”
But before he could act, they vanished.
“A formation…”
Not an illusion, not a barrier, it had to be a formation.
Lu Zheng pondered, about to circulate his true qi, when he noticed a faint grey mist tainting it, making its flow sluggish. The mist was growing thicker.
A netherworld spell!
Lu Zheng stood still, fully circulating his true qi to prevent the grey mist from worsening, but clearing it…
“Swish! Swish! Swish!”
More ghostly shadows flashed by, and the grey mist in his body grew heavier.
“Damn, that’s harsh!”
Lu Zheng grimaced, considering his options.
The enemy hadn’t attacked with overwhelming force, either out of disdain, inability, or because it wasn’t worth it.
Given the formation, the earlier sense of being watched, and the ghosts intensifying the spell, the first possibility was unlikely. It was probably the second or third.
So, Lu Zheng felt confident again.
…
He wasn’t versed in formations, nor was his strength enough to overpower it and break the array.
So…
When the sense of being watched briefly faded, Lu Zheng cloaked himself with an illusion spell, evading the ghosts’ sight in the mist. He stomped his foot, gathering cloud qi to shape the earth beneath into a life-sized clay figure.
Puppet technique! Spirit-binding spell! True qi infusion!
The clay figure transformed, taking on Lu Zheng’s appearance. Unless someone’s cultivation far exceeded his, they wouldn’t spot the ruse.
“Done!”
Lu Zheng patted the puppet’s shoulder, then sank into the ground.
Free from the formation’s trap and the ghosts’ ambushes, he controlled the puppet to move forward while stealthily following underground, working to expel the grey mist.
…
The puppet Lu Zheng advanced, ghostly figures appearing and vanishing around it, its cloud qi gradually suppressed.
For authenticity, the puppet cast true cloud spells around, to no effect.
Soon, its cloud qi was fully suppressed by the grey mist, barely movable, its form staggering under the netherworld qi’s erosion.
“Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!”
Several ghosts appeared, tossing chains that bound the puppet’s neck and limbs.
“What are you creatures!” the puppet Lu Zheng roared, struggling, only to be approached by a ghost who slapped its dantian.
Ghostly qi surged, sealing the puppet’s dantian qi sea and meridians.
“You!”
The puppet struggled, but two ghosts appeared behind, one grabbing its shoulder, the other its elbow, locking it in place.
“Heh heh!”
“With such meager skill, you dare barge into the king’s manor?”
“A bit of cultivation and you think you can storm Xuanning Manor? Tired of living, wanting an early death?”
“Since you’re in the manor, just accept your death quietly.”
“Our king is kind; he’ll make your death quick and painless.”
“Let’s go, take him to the king’s back courtyard. He might be getting impatient.”
“There are three others. Two are already caught, and the last one’s close.”
“Four at once, nearly too much to handle.”
“Heh heh, hope the king’s generous enough to leave us some yang qi. These are human cultivators, not weak. Even a bit of their yang qi is a great tonic for us.”
“Where do you ghosts come from?” the puppet Lu Zheng demanded. “The mortal world isn’t a place for you to linger, and you dare set up a manor to harm people?”
“Heh, you know nothing!”
“When our king succeeds, we’ll be great figures. This mortal world? We’ll come and go as we please!”
“You four just let the king drain you dry!”
The two ghosts pushed the puppet through the mist, weaving left and right, soon entering a secluded courtyard and pressing it into the front hall.
