Chapter 66: At This Point, I Can

It’s no wonder xuan cultivators think this way—it’s far too common in the martial world: whenever a young master from a prestigious sect emerges, he’s bound to seek fame, but how does one gain fame? Simply catch a few demons, exorcise a few ghosts, then hire a storyteller to spread the word—and there you have it.

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

“Bang!”

Just as everyone hesitated, wondering if rushing forward might seem like snatching credit, a sharp, piercing sound erupted from the room where the window had shattered into metal fragments—a zombie burst out, its body ragged and reeking of ozone mixed with charred flesh. Though it looked like an unburned corpse, the xuan cultivators’ faces turned pale.

“What nonsense! Even that level of thunder art failed to destroy it?” cried a relatively young xuan cultivator. His three companions, though grim-faced, 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 the Dao Entry realm never lacked mental fortitude. After a brief shock, the four jointly unfolded a makeshift altar shaped like a folding stool.

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

The lead cultivator spoke as if rallying morale, or perhaps comforting himself—but once the words were out, the other three calmed down.

“Maybe it’s a rare variant like a corpse that transforms on Jingzhe Day, immune to thunder art. Try other spells.”

One cultivator muttered this, staring at the sluggish zombie, then suddenly spread his arms and began dancing in place.

Another cultivator, dressed in plain cloth, 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 instantly stood upright, swelling rapidly like inflated balloons, and within moments grew to the size of the paper effigies burned at funerals.

“Attack!”

The cultivator pulled out a bronze bell, shook it at 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.

From Feng Xue’s vantage point, standing close by, he clearly saw a force utterly unlike moonlight funneling down onto the altar, then passing through the dancing cultivator, transferred to the delayed one, filtered into something purer, and finally flowing into the lead cultivator.

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

“Banner, drum, incense burner, connect the Three Treasures! One strike of the dharma drum shakes heaven’s awe, two strikes shake earth’s tremors! I beat the gong, heaven and earth stir! Burn incense, light candles, summon the master! Summon the master to wield his sword and slay demons before this altar! Divine soldiers, haste, by the law’s command!”

As the words ended, the cultivator’s demeanor shifted—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 shimmered with silver radiance. Feng Xue recognized it at once: the Demon-Slaying Charm.

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 down, it suddenly thrust forth a pair of ghostly claws, yanking out a shadowy mass from two of the paper figures.

The cloth-clad 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 held Liu Yunxi in one arm, called for Mo Ying to descend, then stepped near 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 assist another in sustaining and filtering the devotional energy, was not overly drained. Considering Feng Xue’s demonstrated thunder art prowess, he answered:

A Bound-Soul Corpse Puppet is a rare type of zombie, typically arising from married couples buried together or from reused yin dwellings. For instance, an ancient tomb from a bygone dynasty, long abandoned, inadvertently becomes a burial site for modern individuals. One becomes a zombie, while the other’s emotional attachment lingers—and they influence each other until their spirits merge with their corpses into a single entity, possessing both the eerie aura and illusions of a ghost and the malevolent energy and brute strength of a zombie, even gaining mutual perception. It is a troublesome kind. But ordinary Bound-Soul Corpse Puppets should fear thunder arts—this one withstood it? Its cultivation likely isn’t…

Before he could finish, the spirit-summoning cultivator thrust his sword—and severed the puppet’s head clean off, vaporizing the attached spirit along with it. The cultivator who had been about to say “not shallow” fell silent.

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

At this moment, the spirit-summoning Daoist was equally bewildered; he had expected a fierce battle, but... this was it?

The cultivator suddenly froze—

“Did I… summon the real Lu Zu?”

Don’t think summoning a true immortal is a good thing. Modern xuan cultivators rarely achieve true fruition—best they manage is becoming ghost immortals. Thus, karmic debt is paramount. Summoning the real Lu Zu only to slay this pitiful 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 Daoist no longer cared for anything else—he hurried back to the altar, performed the three rites of inquiry, bowing, and farewell, finally expelling the wish-force phantom from his body, then began discussing with his companions who had guided and filtered the wish force for him.

No karmic debt?!

Watching the cultivators whisper nervously, Feng Xue’s expression turned slightly odd. At this point, he couldn’t possibly say his thunder art was just for show anymore.

Regarding Bai She’s Meicikoufeng enhancing her aptitude, and whether she can repay it.

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

Second, even from Bai She’s perspective, repayment is possible—it just takes time, because as her aptitude grows over time, 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 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, isn’t it?

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—this is why she values cultivation so much.

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

Conversely, she’s pleased when Feng Xue suffers misfortune—it means more interest to repay. But due to human dao’s constraints, she cannot deliberately summon disasters, 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; yet because of the existence of human destiny, she could not deliberately summon disaster, nor could she fail to warn when she sensed the possibility of disaster.



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(End of Chapter)