Chapter 497: The Master

The Niche saw Wu Xian and Shi Ji escape.

His face instantly changed; the candle’s flame erupted, and a ring of light spread outward—this must have been some kind of scanning ability.

But after releasing this ability, he received no response.

No response was also a response.

The Niche sighed.

His hands dropped, abandoning any thought of escape.

“Hah, it seems bad luck is mine—but you old bastards will die sooner or later. When that time comes…”

Before the Niche could finish speaking, Yu Rang appeared behind him and stabbed him over a dozen times, each strike hitting a vital point.

Then Yu Rang leaped backward; as he rose into the air, a ring of flame appeared in his palm. By the time he landed, a fireball the size of a yoga ball shot from the ring, striking the Niche squarely.

BOOM! The flames exploded into a blazing fireball, its intense heat and temperature incinerating the Niche’s body completely; Wu Xian and Shi Ji quickly covered their faces.

When the burning ended.

Wu Xian stared at the ground where the Niche’s body had been—only a charred, deep pit remained.

“This… this is too…”

Wu Xian was not astonished by the power of this attack.

It was only natural that Yu Rang could unleash such power—he was one of the highest-level Familiars Wu Xian had ever encountered.

But…

That fireball was his damn True Fire Talisman! Wu Xian’s first True Fire Talisman had produced only a flame as thin as a finger—how could Yu Rang’s be this massive?

Each advancement in Dao cultivation increases a talisman’s base power by ten percent—how many times would one need to advance to amplify an ordinary True Fire Talisman to this absurd level?

Coupled with the Niche’s remark about “old bastards,” Wu Xian suddenly realized Yu Rang’s age might be far greater than he’d imagined.

Every time a Familiar enters a Blessing Land, they gain lifespan—meaning Familiars rarely die of natural causes. If a Familiar survives every Blessing Land…

Then that Familiar’s lifespan is virtually infinite! Wu Xian swallowed hard: “May I ask, how old are you?”

Yu Rang did not answer directly: “Familiars live one day at a time—what time do we have to dwell on the past?”

Wu Xian dropped the question.

Shi Ji walked over with a dumb grin: “You killed the Niche, but we helped too—we should get a good reward, right?”

Yu Rang countered: “Who told you the Niche is dead?”

Wu Xian and Shi Ji both paled.

“Niche are hard to kill—far harder than cockroaches in the sewers. Unlike Familiars, they don’t gain power through worship; their strength comes from their ‘Niche Gear.’”

“That hooded cloak and candle?”

Yu Rang nodded: “Every Niche has a basic set of Niche Gear. Their power stems from it. When a Niche dies, the Gear self-destructs, and the Niche rebirths elsewhere. Only after the Gear has fully regenerated can the Niche be truly killed.”

Wu Xian wasn’t surprised—he’d once seen a Niche shot in the head by a sniper rifle before Yu Rang finally killed him.

“Ordinary Niche have only one set of Gear. But if a Niche successfully cultivates something of ‘Evil Spirit’ rank, they gain a new set of Gear, new abilities, and a second life!”

“But any Gear beyond the basic set, once destroyed, cannot be reborn.”

“This Niche knew me—he’s an old one. He must have more than one set of Gear. Even so, dying twice here is enough to keep him quiet for a long time. That’s a major achievement.”

…

The Niche matter was settled.

Wu Xian turned to Zhao Licheng. His curiosity about this man surpassed even that of the Niche; he might as well use the lingering effect of the Spirit Summoning Technique to uncover his secrets.

“Tell me—who are you, and where are you from?”

Zhao Licheng sat against the wall, tilting his head up: “I am Zhang Jiusheng, Thirty-Ninth Generation Master of Xue Xin Temple on Tianqi Mountain!”

Finished speaking.

His expression darkened.

“In this world, there probably isn’t a Tianqi Mountain…”

“In our world, calamities run rampant, demons swarm, and senseless ghosts attack everyone indiscriminately.”

“My meager skills couldn’t even protect myself, let alone descend the mountain to save others. Yet Xue Xin Temple and the town of Yingzhou below still held on.”

“Because our temple possesses a divine talisman left behind by our founding Master before his ascension. As long as the talisman remains, anyone nearby who sincerely prays can draw upon its power to escape peril.”

“But one day, several strange people came to Xue Xin Temple.”

“They were being hunted by an Evil Spirit and begged to shelter in our temple for seven days. I kindly took them in and warned them repeatedly not to touch the talisman.”

“But on the final day, as they were leaving, they snatched the talisman while I wasn’t looking, used it to kill the circling Evil Spirit, and vanished from the temple…”

Here,

Zhang Jiusheng’s hair stood on end with rage.

“The Evil Spirit died, they were saved—but what of my Xue Xin Temple? What of the hundreds of thousands beneath Tianqi Mountain?”

“All dead. All dead!”

“Then I met that elder. He told me about Familiars. I knew he wasn’t good—but my old self would have died before joining him. Yet everything he said was true.”

“My home is gone. What use are those principles now?”

“So when the elder said he could bring the last of us survivors to your world, I agreed without hesitation!”

“If you Familiars can destroy our world just to survive, then how could we, the homeless, ever pass up the chance to destroy yours?”

After arriving in the real world,

Zhang Jiusheng used his sect’s inherited Dao arts—Soul-Buying Spell, Skin-Shifting Technique, Paper-Folding Art—to orchestrate one eerie incident after another. These orthodox Dao methods seemed strange, yet carried no demonic power, making them devastatingly effective against Familiars.

Unfortunately, Zhang Jiusheng had no time to grow stronger. His first battle against Familiars pitted him against Wu Xian, Shi Ji, and Yu Rang.

After hearing Zhang Jiusheng’s story,

all three sighed faintly and fell into long silence.

Wu Xian’s Blessing Lands always ended well—he could say he had no guilt. But Familiar actions were uncontrollable; they could just as easily bring disaster to a Blessing Land.

Perhaps those Familiars had hidden reasons for using the talisman—perhaps to save more lives, or merely for greater gain.

But to Zhang Jiusheng, Familiars were unambiguous mortal enemies!

If Wu Xian had endured the same fate, he would likely have acted even more ruthlessly than Zhang Jiusheng.

Yet Wu Xian was a native of the real world.

He did not wish to sacrifice himself to let Zhang Jiusheng succeed in revenge.

So Wu Xian had only one choice.

“I’m sorry. But please rest in peace.”

The Macedonian spear pierced Zhang Jiusheng’s forehead.

(End of Chapter)