Chapter 362: In the Realm of Ghosts, All Demons Are Slain

Seeing Yan Shu carried his sword case, facing hundreds of ferocious ghostly entities, yet remained calm. He tapped the sword case, and from within the narrow wooden box came a chorus of sword qi howls, as if a flood had suddenly poured down over the mountain pass; an unceasing gale swept through the empty gorge.

The approaching ghostly entities let out piercing shrieks, condensing their own spiritual energy into a single thread and lashing toward Seeing Yan Shu.

The mysterious Fifth Ghost Envoy manipulated the ghostly realm with a single strike…

A darkness that devoured everything rose from her hands, carrying the shrieks of these ferocious ghosts; wherever it spread, the sun and moon vanished, plunging every direction above and below into utter blackness.

The scholar gripped his bamboo slips, each character upon them blazing with radiant light, descending toward the darkness.

Where the righteous qi reached, all evil things retreated; the ghosts' shrieks weakened slightly, yet each glowing character that fell into the ghostly realm vanished without a sound, leaving no trace or reaction.

Seeing Yan Shu's expression remained composed as he took a step forward; countless sword qi erupted from his sword case behind him, swirling in a circle before converging into a river of sword qi that spiraled down around him.

The countless shrieks rushing toward him were instantly severed upon entering this river of sword qi.

Countless sword qi trembled.

The sword howls coalesced into a single thread and counterattacked the ghostly entities.

The sentient ferocious ghosts all wore expressions of terror; the deep darkness born of the human ghostly realm was pierced by the sword howls, and wherever they passed, yin energy trembled, bursting into vast clouds of white qi blossoms.

Wherever they touched, the faintly infected ghosts instantly grew insubstantial, then collapsed…

Reduced to ash and smoke!

The Fifth Ghost Envoy let out a piercing wail; the sword howl grazed her ghostly body, annihilating dozens of ferocious ghosts, yet her form split into countless white-robed women, drifting and flickering through the air.

Suddenly, all the women threw themselves into the darkness, as if dissolving within it, transforming into fine white threads that spread out; from within the darkness came faint rustling sounds.

Moments later, countless gray-white demonic clouds surfaced within the ghostly realm.

Merely glancing at the clouds, everyone felt an inexplicable agitation, as if being roasted by fire; all who saw them became restless and disturbed.

Only upon closer inspection did they realize the gray-white within the darkness was formed by countless tiny ghosts resembling nematodes. The scholar's expression turned grave; he frowned and said, "That thing is no benevolent entity—be careful, fellow cultivators!"

The reincarnated one dressed as a hunter pulled a demonic beast from his qiankun bag and hurled it far into the gray-white demonic cloud.

The moment the beast entered the cloud, countless tiny ghosts crawled over its body, feasting on its flesh and blood.

But stranger still, on the beast's soul, tiny nematode-like ghosts also sprouted, first devouring its soul from within.

A demonic beast worthy of great status was devoured completely in an instant.

Everyone's expressions grew slightly grim; this demonic cloud was the Ghost Envoy's final technique, surely no benign force—but its strangeness stirred deep suspicion, deterring anyone from advancing.

The Daoist carrying hundreds of spirit soldiers hesitated: "Could this be… the 'He Jian'?"

Instantly, all who knew of this thing paled…

When a human dies, it becomes a ghost; when a ghost dies, it becomes a He Jian. This entity is extraordinarily vicious, far surpassing ferocious ghosts. If spiritual sense touches it, the He Jian grows within the soul; once it reaches a certain stage, the soul collapses, turning into those white threads—the He Jian worms.

Like parasitic spirits targeting the soul, existing between reality and illusion. Removing them from the flesh is already difficult; when they take root in the soul, death is inevitable.

Stirred by this, the demonic cloud exploded outward, transforming into yin energy that surged toward them.

Even the most resolute reincarnated ones retreated. The Daoist who summoned soldiers from beans drove his spirit soldiers forward; hundreds of mighty, armored heavenly soldiers forged from talismanic scripts were instantly corrupted by yin energy, their bodies rotting before everyone's eyes, turning to ash while sprouting He Jian worms.

The Daoist's face turned deathly pale; suddenly he gouged out his own eyes, bit his tongue, spat out a blood sword, and severed a portion of his own spiritual sense.

The two eyeballs, detached from his sockets, turned independently like living things, fixing their gaze on him. From their pupils crawled several white-threaded He Jian worms, their semi-transparent soul bodies wriggling on the eyeballs, filling everyone with dread.

Such a monstrous thing—even reincarnated ones—felt a chill in their hearts.

Instantly, the group's formation grew disordered…

The Ox-Head Ghost Envoy flashed forward, appearing in a blind spot between their glances; he swung his ghostly execution blade, and one human reincarnated one, unable to dodge, had half his arm and shoulder severed.

The reincarnated one was ruthless; he gritted his teeth, ignited his essence blood, and accelerated his escape.

The Ox-Head Ghost Envoy flashed again, appearing in another blind spot; due to fear of the He Jian worms, none dared release their spiritual sense, leaving them unable to aid one another against such sudden advances.

This reincarnated one was not so lucky—he was beheaded outright, his neck spurting blood three zhang high.

"This ghost's teleportation only works where we cannot see it!" Seeing Yan Shu immediately saw through the Ox-Head Ghost Envoy's trick and warned them. But at that moment, another reincarnated one screamed in agony, his body covered in white-threaded He Jian worms, his flesh and blood transforming into demonic ghosts that devoured him!

"Don't release your spiritual sense!" someone shouted.

Behind Luo Sen, spiritual energy rippled slightly. In an instant, blade light flashed—two swords crossed like lightning, their blades interlaced like the fangs of a dragon, intercepting the ghostly execution blade that had struck from behind.

He had no spiritual sense to begin with!

Only when the execution blade struck did the Ox-Head Ghost Envoy appear behind him.

For the first time, the Ox-Head spoke: "You are not human. Why aid the human race…?"

Luo Sen did not answer. The Ox-Head suddenly withdrew its blade and used its horn to block Luo Sen's twin swords. It spun the blade and slashed horizontally; Luo Sen could not retreat in time, only managing to twist his body aside—his left leg was struck and severed.

Master Master Fa Xin stood abruptly, but the wound did not spurt blood; instead, dark iron-colored bone shards were exposed.

The Ox-Head roared, lifting its blade upward. Luo Sen used one long blade to brace his severed leg, while his right hand held his blade in defense. But his lower body was unstable; the slender Japanese blade was already hard-pressed against the ghostly great blade, and now he could barely deflect the mountain-crushing force. The blade qi split the Japanese blade's defense, its residual waves cleaving through his wide-brimmed hat and slicing open the mask on his face.

The bronze mask fell, revealing beneath it a rust-colored skull.

Its eye sockets held no light, just like any common decayed bone.

"Bone Demon!"

The human side immediately went on guard; the demon hunters who arrived later were stunned: "Luo Sen the Ghost Blade is a Bone Demon! No wonder he could slay demons with sword art… because he himself is a demon!"

The Ox-Head Ghost Envoy laughed loudly: "Hear that? This is the human race you protect—man is man, demon is demon!"

"You betrayed your own kind—you'll meet no good end!"

The Bone Blade Master Luo Sen gripped the remaining half of his mask, expression calm, indifferent to the suspicion and vigilance behind him. He inserted his Miao blade into the bone stump of his severed leg; black qi rippled, and white bone fused with the blade, becoming his new left leg.

"I was deceived by demons—I caused the deaths of so many! Loyal ministers, virtuous generals, great monks, countless innocent civilians—I have already committed an unforgivable sin. How could I possibly continue to live?"

Three hundred years ago, in a border garrison's entertainment quarter, a noble-looking general cradled a woman's face and whispered.

Red candles flickered, blurring the woman's face.

"Battalion Commander… the demons are breaching the pass—this journey is certain death! Why not preserve your useful body?"

"The last three thousand elite troops of Great Ming, the remaining cultivators of the Four Great Sects, have agreed to hold Iron Pass to the death. It is not a futile act—at least, it buys you time… Rou Niang, I've already redeemed your freedom. I planned to pay respects to our ancestors before taking you as my wife. But now, there's no time!"

"Leave this place immediately—retreat southward…"

"Battalion Commander, I'll wait for you to return!"

The man fastened his helmet and walked out the door; at the threshold, he turned back suddenly: "Don't wait! Find a good man and marry him!"

"If not I, who will descend into hell?"

"Battalion Commander! … General!"

The woman rushed out, leaning against the gate tower, eyes brimming with tears as she watched the man's figure vanish forever… Three days later, the demons breached the pass; the northern lands became a sea of blood. Thousands of wolf demons shattered the city gates and surged inside; the woman stood atop the pavilion, picked up a jar of fine wine, and poured it over her chambers.

Then flames erupted skyward; amid smoke and fire, a woman sat before a mirror, combing her long black hair like a cascading waterfall.

In the mirror, a single tear traced her cheek…

Fifty years later, beneath the ruined gates of Iron Pass, a skeleton stirred. It broke free from tangled roots, stood up, picked up a short blade beside it, and slowly walked toward the interior of the pass.

The skeleton knew nothing, remembered nothing. As it crossed the pass, a wild dog, eyes blood-red, darted past the ruins, dragging a humerus bone. The skull unconsciously halted, its broken blade lifting slightly…

Fragmented memories, like scrolls, flowed through its mind. Luo Sen remained unmoved; he raised his Japanese blade and said calmly: "Demons shall be cut down."

The Ox-Head roared in fury, bringing down his ghostly execution blade, its aura heavy as a mountain.

"You are a demon too!"

"One final strike—cut me down!" Luo Sen said, each word deliberate.

His blade light blazed like a ribbon; the long blade, pale as moonlight, struck the Ox-Head as they passed, but the demon's resilient body only allowed the blade to sink a few inches deep.

The Ox-Head trapped the blade with its body and swung its execution blade downward, severing the Japanese blade at its middle.

Simultaneously, a band of demonic qi coiled like a ribbon, wrapping around Luo Sen's left hand. He swung his broken blade and severed his own left hand. The Ox-Head gripped the bone stump and sneered: "One leg gone, one hand gone—what will you fight me with now?"

Luo Sen attached the broken blade to his left hand, raised his right, and a long, rust-covered spear appeared in his grasp. His left hand held the broken blade, his left leg the Miao blade; his body stood tall, facing the two-zhang-tall Ox-Head, and he swept the spear horizontally.

The spear's form was unusual: a short sword attached to a long shaft, making it especially adept at sweeping and chopping.

The clash of blade and spear echoed far across the battlefield.

The human cultivators hesitated, unsure whether to aid Luo Sen.

Within the ghostly realm, one of the Fifth Ghost Envoy's illusions bore a look of anguish. Countless He Jian worms clustered upon her, solidifying her form; the dim, confused illusion suddenly broke free, flying out of the ghostly darkness.

In an instant, she arrived beside the Ox-Head. The Ox-Head, unprepared, mistook her for an ally—perhaps even this treacherous demon—only to have her claws pierce its chest.

"Don't harm… my Battalion Commander!"

The woman lifted her head, speaking softly.

In the red pavilion, Brother Qian Chen suddenly clenched his fist and murmured low: "I think… I now know the origins of these two ghosts."