Chapter 55: At This Point, I Can

It wasn't surprising that Xuan cultivators thought this way—this pattern was far too common in the martial world: whenever a young master from a prestigious sect emerged, he'd inevitably seek fame, but how to gain it? Simply capture a few demons, exorcise a few ghosts, then hire a storyteller to spread the word—there, fame was secured.

But this man before them clearly possessed real ability; otherwise, he could never have unleashed such terrifying Five Thunder Orthodoxy, let alone accompanied by a transformed spirit beast and a century-old spirit ghost—this display clearly…

"Bang!"

Just as everyone hesitated, wondering if charging forward now might seem like snatching credit, a sharp, piercing sound erupted from the room where the window's metal had shattered—a zombie, ragged and reeking of ozone mixed with charred flesh, burst out violently. Though it looked like an unburned corpse, the Xuan cultivators' faces turned pale.

"What nonsense! Even that level of thunder magic failed to eliminate it?" cried a relatively young Xuan cultivator. The three others who arrived with him grimaced but immediately unslung their packs.

The startled cultivator snapped to his senses: no matter how strong this zombie was, he had no choice but to fight—or rather, precisely because it was strong, he must stand with his brethren. If it fled, they'd be picked off one by one.

Xuan cultivators who had reached Entry to the Dao were never lacking in composure. After a brief shock, the four jointly unfolded a makeshift altar shaped like a folding stool.

"The alarm has been sounded—we only need to hold out until Master Chen and Master Yijing arrive!"

The lead cultivator seemed to be rallying morale—or perhaps comforting himself—but once the words were spoken, the other three calmed down.

"Maybe it's a special breed like a corpse that transforms on Qingming, immune to thunder magic. Try other spells."

One cultivator, watching the sluggish zombie, muttered softly, then suddenly spread his arms and began dancing in place.

Another cultivator, dressed in cloth robes, clasped his hands together, bent slightly forward, then twisted his palms apart—revealing seven or eight paper cutouts shaped like human figures. He spun and pressed his finger into vermilion ink on the altar, then, with movements resembling both dance and martial forms, marked each paper figure with a red dot.

The seven or eight paper figures immediately stood upright, swelling rapidly like inflated balloons, and within a blink had grown to the size of the paper effigies burned at funerals.

"Attack!"

The cultivator pulled out a bronze bell, shook it with the command, and its clear chime rang out—immediately, the seven or eight paper figures charged the zombie with absurd, grotesque motions.

"Here we go~!"

The dancing cultivator suddenly roared. The one who had been slow to react now moved instantly—he formed a hand seal, twisted his body sharply, and thrust one finger into the chest of the lead cultivator who had rallied them.

In Feng Xue's eyes, now close enough to see clearly, a force utterly unlike moonlight descended like a funnel onto the altar, then flowed through the dancing cultivator, passed to the delayed one, underwent some kind of filtration, and emerged as a purer form, pouring into the lead cultivator's body.

Empowered by this vast source, the lead cultivator murmured indistinct incantations, his whole body trembling like a sieve, yet his words grew clear—

"Banner, drum, incense burner, connect the Three Treasures! One beat of the Dharma drum shakes heaven's awe! Two beats shake earth's foundations! I strike the gong, heaven and earth tremble! Burn incense, light candles, summon the Dharma Master! Summon the Dharma Master to wield his sword and slay demons before this altar! Divine soldiers, hasten, by the law's command!"

As the words ended, the cultivator's demeanor shifted abruptly. He said nothing, merely extended his hand. The dancing cultivator, now free, swiftly drew a peachwood sword and handed it over.

The spirit-summoning cultivator grasped the wooden sword, pressed two fingers along its length—and instantly, the short wooden blade was coated in silver radiance. Feng Xue recognized it at once: the Demon-Slaying Spell.

Yet compared to his own half-baked spirit infusion, this cultivator's execution was leagues superior—even to the naked eye, the wooden sword now looked like forged metal.

While this ritual unfolded swiftly, the seven or eight paper figures had already surrounded the zombie. Though the corpse seemed pinned, it suddenly thrust forth a pair of ghostly claws, ripping shadows directly from two of the paper figures.

The cloth-robed cultivator's face turned deathly pale as he cried out—

"Bound-Soul Corpse Puppet! It's a Bound-Soul Corpse Puppet!"

But the spirit-summoning cultivator cared nothing for the enemy's type—he thrust his sword forward and charged.

Feng Xue, one arm holding Liu Yunxi, called out to Seeing Mo Ying to descend, then stepped close to the altar and asked the dancing cultivator who had channeled the devotional energy: "What exactly is a Bound-Soul Corpse Puppet?"

The cultivator, now only needing to maintain the channeling and filtering of devotional energy alongside another, wasn't overly drained. Considering this man's demonstrated mastery of thunder magic, he offered a partial explanation:

"A Bound-Soul Corpse Puppet is a rare type of zombie, usually arising from a husband and wife buried together or the reuse of a yin dwelling—for instance, an ancient tomb from a previous dynasty, long neglected, unknowingly reused for burial by modern folk. If one becomes a zombie and the other's attachment lingers, their energies intertwine, binding the spirit to the corpse as one entity—possessing both the ghost's spectral aura and illusions, and the zombie's malevolent energy and brute strength, even enabling mutual perception and complementation. It's a troublesome type. But ordinary Bound-Soul Corpse Puppets should fear thunder magic. This one withstood it? Its cultivation likely isn't…"

The cultivator's words cut off abruptly as the spirit-summoning cultivator thrust his sword—cleaving the puppet's head clean off, vaporizing the attached spirit along with it. The cultivator who had been about to say "not shallow" froze mid-sentence.

The spirit-summoning cultivator himself was equally stunned—he'd expected a brutal battle, yet… that was it?

At this moment, the spirit-summoning xuan cultivators were equally baffled; they had expected a fierce battle, but... this was it?

The cultivator suddenly froze in alarm—

"Did I… summon the real Lu Zu?"

Don't assume summoning a true immortal is a good thing. Modern Xuan cultivators rarely achieve true fruition—best case, they become ghost immortals. Thus, karmic debt is paramount. Summoning the real Lu Zu only to slay such a lowly thing? The merit doesn't cover the summoning fee!

Realizing this, the cultivator forgot everything else—he rushed back to the altar, performed the three rites: inquiry, bowing, farewell—and finally expelled the devotional spirit from his body. Only then did he begin discussing with his companions who had channeled and filtered the energy.

Thinking of this, the xuan cultivator no longer cared about anything else—he hurried back to the altar, performed the three steps of inquiry, bowing, and farewell, and finally rid himself of the wish-force phantom spirit, then began discussing with his companions who had helped guide and filter the wish force.

No karmic debt?!

Watching the Xuan cultivators whisper nervously, Feng Xue's expression grew peculiar. At this point, he couldn't possibly say his thunder magic was just a facade anymore.

Regarding whether Bai She can repay the debt from each mouth seal that enhances her aptitude.

First, the protagonist later gives her counterfeit bills.

Second, even from Bai She's perspective, repayment is possible—it just takes time, because as her aptitude grows, each mouth seal's effect becomes diluted.

When you have only 1 point of talent, adding 10 is like rebirth. But when you have 10,000 points, adding 10 is merely frosting on the cake. Even though all 10,000 points originally came from the protagonist, subsequent increments yield diminishing returns, not doubling.

Conversely, a one-year-old spirit beast helping out to repay debt? The interest barely covers it. But when a ten-thousand-year-old spirit immortal serves tea, carries water, washes clothes, and folds quilts? That's lowering herself.

So from Bai She's perspective, as long as she lives and Feng Xue doesn't suddenly die, her increasing cultivation will make repayment easier over time—that's why she values cultivation so deeply.

Now, Bai She cultivates not merely to achieve true fruition, but primarily to repay her debt. If her cultivation stalls, unpaid interest slowly merges into principal. Hence, when Feng Xue interferes with her cultivation, she protests—but for other matters, she merely mutters under her breath.

Conversely, Feng Xue's misfortune pleases her—it means more interest to repay. But due to human law, she cannot deliberately summon disaster, nor can she fail to warn when she senses impending calamity.

Conversely, Feng Xue's misfortune was something she welcomed, for it meant more interest could be repaid; but because of the existence of human destiny, she could not deliberately summon disaster, nor could she fail to warn when she sensed a possible disaster.

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(End of Chapter)