Ghosts—remnantsofsapientbeingsthathavedied.Somearebenevolent,somemalevolent.TheirstrengthrangesfromStage1to9,correspondingtotheninemajorcultivationrealms,fromQiRefiningtoGreatAssion.TherearealsoWanderingSouls—weaker,harmlessentitieswithoutcultivation.
Theweakhavenhttosurvive.
Idon’tlikeunnecessarykilling.Ratherthansyingalldemonsandghostsunderheaven,Iprefercoexistence.Aslongastheydon’tharmothers,I’llsparethem.
“Hey!Coward!”Ishouted,thensprierit.
ThismissietedaStage-2EvilSpirit.Itsoundedeasyenoughatfirst…untilIgotthere.
Iexpectedearlyormid-stage,maybete-stageatworst—butpeak?
Beforemyqirandry,hehadmestrikinglikeaingboxer,relentlesslyhammeringghostswithVajraFistuntilonlyfiveorsixharmlesswanderingsoulsremained.
Tenhoursofrestter,Iwasfullyrestored.IthrewaofVajraFistintotheair—thenfinally,dustyandweary,mademywaybacktothetrainingchamber.
Justintime.Myblowstruckbeforeitcouldreajuringitbadly.Theghosthowled,thenfled.
Itsfacewashorrifying—crackedopenwoundsrevealingbosmouthtorntotheearswithjaggedteethexposed,twincrimsonghost-firesburninginitshollowsockets.Itlookedexactlylikeademonthathadjustcrawledoutofhell,radiatinganicymalevolechilledmyspine.
Shecheckedthemissionlist.
Twohourster,Icolpsedheghostden,exhaustedandpanting.EveryhostileStage-1ghostawoStage-2ghostsinsidehadbeenannihited.
.Aswordformedbymeritenergywassharperthanawoodehoughstilbittooweak.Evenamid-stageQiRefiningcultivatorcouldbreakit,soIoincreasemyprofidbuildmoremerit.
Icouldn’ttakeitanymore.Fearsurgedthroughme—ifIdidn’tmovenow,I’dcolpsefromdread.
Sesfromolddramasfshedinmymind—righteouscultivatorswieldingpeachwoodswordsandtalismanstoexorciseevil.Now,thecetodoitforrealwashere—andIwasn’tabouttowasteit.
Tootetopin.Onlybychallengingstrrow.
Andthere’sonlyooear—doinggooddeeds.
“VajraTeique—se!”
ButitfloatedwhileIran.Anditwasahigherrealmthanme—Icouldn’tcatchup.Ieragittoitsir,dehghostlyenergy.
Themissionhadnowshiftedfrom“SytheEvilSpirit”tetheGhost.”
Suddenly,aswarmofghostsemerged—itwaslikeagangbinghisthugs.Luckily,theywereallStage-1,andIcouldhahemwithease.
Itriedtotakeitbysurprise,suppressingmyauraasIapproached.Maybeitdidn’tknowIcouldseeit,ormaybeitthoughtIwastoughtodealwith—itjustsme.
SoIasked,“Isthereataskthatgrantsalotofmerit?”
“WhythehellisitStage2peak!?”Ishoutedindisbelief,staringattheghostfiftymetersahead.
“Asamatteroffact,there’soneperfectforyou—syinganevilspirit.Likezombies,they’realsospawnedfromreseanddarkenergy.”
Byelydrained.Iforcedmyselftomovetoanearbyrockbathedinsunlight.Withoutthatlighttowardofftheyinenergy,Iwouldn’thaverecovered.
But“he”isdifferent.He—myotherself—seesthingsinanht: