*Clang*!
That was a crisp crack in the darkness!
Xueqi's face was cold as frost as she stepped in front of Zhang Fan, drawing her sword with fierce resolve.
Ya—drawn from its scabbard!
A blue light erupted without warning—a pure and resplendent pillar of radiance, illuminating this dark world.
In an instant, the ghostly luminescence of every wraith was utterly eclipsed by that blue radiance—yet even so, the spectral beings showed not the slightest fear, surging in from all directions without hesitation.
6 Xueqi let out a soft rebuke, a flicker of pain crossing her pale face—only to be replaced at once by an expression of even greater resolve.
Driven by its master's urging, the Yaoshen Sword blazed with brilliant blue light, its radiance stretching ten thousand zhang, sweeping in a broad arc through the dark spirits charging from ahead.
The instant the blue light made contact with those spectral wraiths, a sharp sizzling sound like crackling oil burst forth — the dozens of wraiths at the fore were annihilated on the spot, their souls scattered to oblivion.
The voice reverberated through the vast and lightless expanse, sending chills down one's spine.
Yet for all the overwhelming might of the Yashen Sword, it could not frighten away the remaining wraiths — even as Lu Xueqi struck, several dark spirits lunged from behind and threw themselves upon the unconscious Zhang Fan where he lay on the ground.
Xueqi caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye, spun around and swept back in, and with a single horizontal pass of the Yashenjian across Zhang Fan's body, she scattered those few shadowy wraiths.
But the evil spirits surrounding her were simply too numerous to cut down—for every one she slew, more surged to take its place. Lu Xueqi had already been wounded before the battle even began, and within just a few exchanges she was drenched in sweat, her breath coming in heavy gasps. All around her, ghostly faces swirled and shrieked, gnashing their teeth and clawing the air. The pale blue radiance of her technique grew steadily dimmer. Lu Xueqi gritted her teeth and fought on, but her legs gave way beneath her all the same, and she crumpled to the ground beside Zhang Fan.
Amidst the howling, the Spreading Yin Spirit let out a triumphant ghostly wail, and a pale white radiance blazed forth, yin energy dense as woven silk. 6Xueqi turned her head and glanced at Zhang Fan.
Though the youth lay unconscious at that moment, his face bore an expression of anguish — had he been thinking of something that grieved him?
Xueqi murmured under her breath, "To think that I would die alongside you today!"
She sat up straight. At this moment, not a trace of color remained in her face, yet she refused to give up. The fingers of her right hand curved and extended into the Orchid Mudra, and following her gesture, the Yashen Sword paused briefly in midair before plunging downward in a flash, driving point-first into the ground before Lu Xueqi. Blue light surged up once more, and upon the earth appeared a circle of light centered on the Yashen Sword, encircling both Xueqi and Zhang Fan within its bounds.
The dark spirits crowding all around, eyes fixed on those tempting bodies of flesh and blood right before them, could no longer hold themselves back—wave after wave surged forward in a rush. But moments later, the ring of light on the ground suddenly swelled upward, and a blue radiance blazed to life, auspicious mist roiling in its wake. The blue light seemed to move with a will of its own, sweeping in a great arc over the heads of the two figures, and in an instant it held every last dark spirit at bay outside.
But to a discerning eye, it was plain to see that the halo's radiance was far too faint, its auspicious energy weak and spent — nothing more than Lu Xueqi's last desperate struggle.
Seeing the prey about to reach their mouths blocked yet again, the horde of Yin spirits erupted in fury. The ghostly wailing grew louder and louder as countless Yin spirits flung themselves against the fragile ring of light. With each collision, Lu Xueqi's body shuddered, her complexion growing a shade paler, and the radiance of the Jade Spirit Sword dimming by a degree. The ring of light, originally two men tall, had been compressed to barely the height of one person in the span of mere moments.
Xueqi's face had gone white as a sheet. She watched the spectral faces materializing beyond the ring of light twist into hideous, terrifying leers; she watched them stretch open their vast, ethereal maws — and her entire being felt as though it had been plunged into an ice cellar.
Just then, she suddenly heard Zhang Fan—lying unconscious at her side—let out a faint, incoherent mumble.
6 Xueqi turned her head abruptly. No words could describe what she felt in that moment. For so long she had fought these yin spirits alone — and now, at the sudden sound of a companion's voice, a joy she had never known before surged up in her heart.
But before she could make out Zhang Fan's appearance, something abrupt occurred—the ground beneath where the two of them had tumbled down, solid earth a moment ago, suddenly split open without a sound right where Zhang Fan stood, and he plunged straight through.
Xueqi froze. The cave before her was a wall of absolute darkness—she couldn't tell how deep it ran. Only at its furthest reaches, something stirred: a pair of enormous, terrifying blood-red eyes, blinking. Blinking.
The next moment, without the slightest hesitation, the halo radiating from the Ya Spirit Sword faded and vanished. Amid the howling shrieks of the dark spirits, Lu Xueqi reached out and drew Ya from its sheath — and without another word, hurled herself down into that deep, lightless abyss.
A moment later, all the Yin spirits hovering in the air followed and surged in as well, their ear-piercing shrieks reverberating throughout the cave.
A dull thudding reverberated through the cave. Moments later, amid the howling tumult of surging yin spirits, a sharp, ear-splitting shriek suddenly tore through the air.
"Owww——"
The cry rang out in agony — it bore a distinct resemblance to the frenzied roar of a wounded wild boar. A moment later, a massive silhouette burst from the cave mouth first, and hard on its heels came countless dark spirits swarming outward, swirling and flitting in all directions.
Xueqi, amid the flickering ghostly light, supported Zhang Fan with her left arm as they leaped up from the ground. A thread of crimson blood trailed from the corner of her mouth, and the entire left side of her body was soaked red — she had clearly taken wounds of her own.
At this moment, Zhang Fan could only remain standing by leaning against Xue Qi, yet his eyes had opened, and the fire stick blazed to life once more — faint as it was, it still radiated a mysterious azure glow.
The young man and woman, together in this dark world, steadied each other and leaned upon one another.
Xueqi watched the Yin spirits swirling furiously overhead, yet still not daring to swoop down. An inexplicable joy welled up in her heart — though they had yet to escape the danger, having someone standing beside her was truly wonderful.
Then, the gazes of the two fell upon the massive shadow looming ahead. Silhouetted against the pale light emanating from the spectral wraith, and after being assailed by an overwhelmingly putrid stench, they finally laid eyes upon the true form of the demon beast.
It was a colossal demonic beast, standing two men tall—pig-headed and dog-bodied, with long, razor-sharp tusks. Its entire body was a reddish-black, the coarse brown fur bristling upright like steel needles. A pair of enormous eyes burned blood-red in the darkness, bearing more than a passing resemblance to the Crimson Demon Eyes of that aged fiend from the demonic cult.
At this moment, the demon beast lay sprawled in the distance, heaving ragged breaths. Beneath its black, filth-matted fur, the flesh of its left forepaw had been torn open — a wound clearly dealt by Liu Xueqi. It fixed a unblinking stare upon the two humans who had wounded it, eyes blazing with bone-deep hatred, consumed by the urge to devour them alive.
The Yin spirits danced through the air; some even drifted past this demonic beast, yet none attacked it — evidently, the two parties had always kept to an unspoken pact of mutual non-interference.
Xueqi felt nothing but aching weariness seeping through every part of her body. She nearly wanted to crumple right where she stood and let sleep take her, free from any further thought. Yet after several desperate struggles with herself, she held on through sheer will and said in a low voice to Zhang Fan, "There are too many demon beasts and dark spirits here. Who knows what else might come out before long — let's pull back first."
Zhang Fan had no objections and nodded in agreement. The two of them began to back away, but to their dismay, every step they retreated, the Yin Spirit hovering in the air advanced a matching step. The pig-headed demon beast, too, seemed unwilling to give up, and incredibly, it followed along as well. And so they moved in fits and starts—the Yin Spirit wary of Zhang Fan's fire stick, while the pig-headed demon beast seemed to harbor some fear of the two of them yet refused to simply let the matter go.
Both had already been wounded going in, and after enduring one brutal skirmish after another deep within this dark, damp abyss, they were utterly spent. Had the Yin spirits and that demon beast not been driving them so relentlessly, the two would surely have lost consciousness the moment they allowed themselves to relax.
But at this moment, standing on the razor's edge between life and death, neither knew where the courage and strength within them came from—yet somehow, they had managed to hold on until now.
This Death Spirit Abyss, unknown to any among the righteous cultivators, turned out to be a shockingly vast chasm. The two of them had been making their way back for half the distance, yet they were still walking on open ground with not the slightest trace of a sheer cliff face anywhere in sight. How they had possibly landed so impossibly far from the edge when they had fallen in, neither of them could fathom.
But neither of them had any time to dwell on such questions. All around them, demon beasts and wraith-spirits watched with predatory eyes, and life and death truly hung by a single breath. Just when Zhang Fan found himself at a complete loss, he suddenly felt a sharp pain at his back — he had collided with something hard.
The two of them had not dared to let their guard down against the demon beast for even a moment, and so they had been walking backward the entire time. When they suddenly collided with something, Zhang Fan startled and turned around at once—only to find, to his surprise, that it was a massive tree, its trunk so thick that it would have taken at least three people stretching their arms to encircle it.
Only then did Zhang Fan relax, turning to Lu Xueqi, who was still staring behind them: "It's nothing—just a tree…"
Before he could finish speaking, Zhang Fan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his throat — something rope-like had coiled around his neck, and a tremendous force wrenched his entire body upward.
Xueqi was greatly startled. She spun around in alarm and cried out involuntarily, "A tree demon!"
There, in that open clearing, the solitary great tree that had grown in lonely isolation now had every one of its once-still branches stir to life like the arms of a man, and the thick bough coiled around Zhang Fan was one among them. In the darkness, the tree demon's frantically swaying form loomed like a devil risen from the Nine Abysses.
Zhang Fan felt the vine tightening around his neck with every passing moment, his breath growing ragged and shallow. Xue Qi had just moved to help him when a thunderous roar shook the air from afar. Seizing the opportunity, the pig-headed demon beast lunged upward in a single bound, its massive claws flickering with an eerie green glow as they came crashing down upon his head — most likely carrying a lethal poison.
Xueqi had no choice but to turn back and fend it off, yet with her movements blocked, her repeated attempts to push through and rescue Zhang Fan all came to nothing — and instead, she found herself beset by peril after peril.
Zhang Fan was caught in the tree demon's grip, his throat burning with searing pain. The creature let out a grating, rasping sound—likely a noise of delight. The branch coiled around his neck dragged him backward, hauling him toward the trunk, while several more limbs snaked out to bind his body. Only his two hands were still free to thrash about; beyond that, he could struggle no further.
Zhang Fan's heart burned with desperate urgency. He turned to Lu Xueqi for help, only to find she was struggling to hold her own. He glanced back—and nearly lost his soul on the spot. On the trunk of the tree demon, a vast maw was slowly splitting open, reeking of a sharp, nauseating stench that poured forth in waves. The writhing branches were hauling him straight toward that gaping opening. This, he feared, was the tree demon's mouth.
Zhang Fan shuddered from head to toe. Never in a million years had he imagined that he would one day serve as fertilizer for a tree. Such a manner of death was truly beyond all acceptance.
But now that the arrow was already nocked, he was indeed inching forward toward that gaping maw, the rank and fetid stench growing heavier with every passing moment. In the blink of an eye, cold sweat had begun streaming down Zhang Fan's forehead.
Just as the gaping maw loomed before him, Zhang Fan found strength from nowhere and fought with everything he had, planting his feet against the trunk and refusing to be drawn forward. But the tree demon's power was extraordinary beyond measure; after only a few more wrenches of the branches, Zhang Fan's strength gave out entirely, and he was delivered right to the edge of that great mouth.
A thick, putrid stench of blood washed over him — no telling how many lives this tree demon had devoured. On the razor's edge between life and death, Zhang Fan thrashed with every last shred of strength, wrenched his arm upward, and drove the only weapon within reach — a fire poker — into the side of the tree demon's gaping maw.
Upon the fire-poking staff—most of all upon the round orb at its tip—a faint azure glow began to shimmer.
The crude fire-stoking staff, swung by Zhang Fan against the tree demon, struck with the force of a divine blade — it plunged straight into the tree demon's impossibly hard trunk as easily as slicing through melon and vegetable. In that instant, all of the tree demon's wildly thrashing branches suddenly froze, utterly still.
Zhang Fan himself was momentarily stunned as well, and at the same time, a sudden wave of fear rose unbidden in his heart.
A familiar, icy sensation swept through his entire body, and then it brought with it a wholly new breath—threads of warm current flowed from the fire stick into Zhang Fan's body, just as it had been not long ago, when Zhang Fan had clashed with the vampire Jiang the Third inside the Ancient Cave of Ten Thousand Bats.
Zhang Fan hung suspended in midair, utterly stunned!
He stared blankly at everything unfolding before him. The tree demon—once supremely arrogant, savage and fierce—had merely been pierced by what appeared to be an ugly fire-stoking stick, yet its enormous body, so utterly disproportionate to that crude implement, began to wither with startling speed. Every branch, every twig, even the trunk itself seemed to have all moisture stripped away, shriveling and curling inward. Leaves cascaded down like a storm of falling rain. With one final thunderous roar—the last cry of its life—the great tree collapsed with a resounding crash, and then dissolved into ash and nothingness.
Zhang Fan landed on the ground and stood there in a daze. He knew without even circulating his energy that the waves of warmth drawn in by the fire poker had done his body a world of good. His previously injured Meridians, nourished by the influx of that warm current, began to flow and circulate freely once more.
He looked down at the fire stick in his hand. In the slow, gentle rotation of its dark cyan radiance, the staff emanated the contented glow of one who has eaten his fill. Along the shaft in particular, the blood-red threads that had once been barely visible now blazed to life as though they had drunk deep of fresh blood—bright, crimson, and faintly sinister.
The somewhat fearsome-looking fire poker slipped from Zhang Fan's grasp, fell to the ground, bounced twice, and came to rest without moving.
The moment it left Zhang Fan's palm, the miraculous black rod seemed to lose its host, as though stripped of the source that sustained it—every last trace of radiance vanished at once, and it became nothing more than a plain, unremarkable black stick.
Zhang Fan drew a deep breath, his heart thrown into turmoil, a single voice echoing through his mind over and over: *What is this — what is this?*
Just then, a cry of pain suddenly rang out from Lu Xueqi in the distance. Zhang Fan snapped awake at once and spun around—only to see Lu Xueqi surrounded and assailed by countless yin spirits and that pig-headed demon beast. She had been struck hard and sent flying backwards, her robes soaked crimson across a wide swath, clearly grievously wounded.
Zhang Fan's whole body gave a start; no longer concerned with any of that chaotic nonsense, he seized the fire poker in his hand and flew straight toward Lu Xueqi.
Midair, the fire-stoking staff in his hand seemed to wear a faint smile as it blazed back to life, a thread of dark cerulean radiance reigniting along its length and casting its glow across his face.
Wherever Zhang Fan passed, countless Yin spirits scattered and fled in all directions. In the blink of an eye, Zhang Fan caught up to Xueqi, yet the pig-headed demon beast ahead showed not the slightest fear of the fire-stoking stick—it let out a thunderous roar and lunged straight at him.
Zhang Fan, overcome with anxiety for Xueqi's injuries, refused to fall back any further. With a fierce roar of his own, he drew upon the Daoist arts passed down to him by his shifu's wife Su Ru before he had left the mountain — and the fire poker leapt from his hand like an arrow loosed from a bowstring, hurtling straight toward the pig-headed demon beast.
The pig-headed demon beast saw the black rod hurtling toward it and swept out one massive forepaw, meaning to bat the bothersome thing aside before charging in to swallow those two irritating yet appetizing humans whole and enjoy a hearty meal.
But the moment his palm swept outward, he felt a sudden chill against his hand—and an instant later, an inexplicable coldness bloomed at his chest. The boar-headed demon beast froze. He looked down, and found a hole had opened through his palm. At his chest, where his heart lay, another hole had appeared. His entire body had been run clean through by what had seemed like nothing more than an ordinary fire poker.
"Ow!"
The pig-headed demon beast let out a heart-rending howl, its massive body swaying once before crashing to the ground like a toppling mountain, sending dust billowing in all directions. It struggled a few times where it lay, black blood trickling from the corners of its mouth—then at last, it was still.
At that moment, Zhang Fan caught Xue Qi, only to find her entire body ice-cold—she had exhausted her last reserves of strength and fallen unconscious. Meanwhile, the fire-stoking staff, having just claimed yet another life, flickered with a deep azure radiance and came gleaming back through the air, dropping neatly into Zhang Fan's waiting hand.
At this moment, Zhang Fan felt his spirit full and his energy restored—the injuries within his body had healed by more than half. He then checked on Lu Xueqi's breathing, only to find it rapid and labored. Looking down, he saw that the skin around the wound on her left shoulder had turned completely black. She had clearly been poisoned by a deadly toxin.
Zhang Fan's heart burned with anxiety, yet mindful that countless Yin spirits still lurked nearby—even though the two demon beasts had already been slain—he could only force himself to turn and look. What he saw left him stunned: at some unknown moment, all those Yin spirits had gradually retreated, dissolving into the darkness. Zhang Fan gaped in astonishment, but this was a stroke of luck he could only have prayed for. There was no point dwelling on the why. He wheeled around without another thought and rushed to tend to Lu Xueqi.
What Zhang Fan did not know was that all of this was owed to the "Blood-Devouring Pearl" upon his fire-stoking staff. Eight hundred years ago, the Black-Hearted Elder had carried the "Blood Refining Hall" lineage of the Demonic Sect to new heights, his name shaking the world, and it was within the underground labyrinth of this Ancient Cave of Ten Thousand Bats that he had laid the very cornerstone of the Blood Refining Hall's legacy.
The black-hearted old man had always been a vicious and ruthless figure. When he refined the Blood-Devouring Pearl in those years, countless living beings were killed or maimed in the process. Among them, who could say how many vengeful spirits of the slain had gathered in the depths of this Death Spirit Abyss, unable to pass on into the next life.
In those days, they had all suffered harm at the hands of the Blood-Devouring Bead. Yet now, the Blood-Devouring Bead and the Nameless Vicious Staff had merged into one, its form changed beyond recognition, the baleful and ferocious aura withdrawn deep within.
But the moment Zhang Fan cast his technique, the sinister aura of the Blood-Devouring Bead surged forth in full force—every last yin spirit fled in terror, each scrambling to escape before the others, as though convinced that the dread fiend known as the Black-Hearted Old Man had somehow returned from the dead.
Zhang Fan gently set Xue Qi down on the ground. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze falling upon the wound that had already turned black, and let out a long sigh.
As if the eternal darkness had once more returned to stillness — a silence like death.
Zhang Fan felt slightly lightheaded, but when he saw that the dark aura had vanished from Lu Xueqi's face—her wounds now properly bandaged—he finally let out a sigh of relief.
He kept watch beside the unconscious woman, sitting in silence.
The fire-stoking staff radiated a faint azure glow, enveloping them.
Silence reigned all around!
Silence!
Not even the chirping of insects could be heard. Beneath this Abyss of Dead Spirits, it seemed as though not a single living creature existed—save for the yin spirit demon beasts.
But at that very moment, Zhang Fan suddenly heard a burst of footsteps ring out.
Those footsteps in the darkness were soft and unhurried, yet to Zhang Fan's ears they crashed like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. He shot to his feet, wheeling toward the source of the sound, his hand tightening around the fire poker.
In the distance, within the darkness, a faint light drew near. Then, illuminated by that glow, a woman appeared — draped in a dress of pale aqua-green, her brows delicate and her eyes refined, her skin like jade, surpassing frost and snow in its purity. Against the surrounding dark, she seemed to radiate an otherworldly, bewitching allure — a haunting beauty that stirred the very soul.
Zhang Fan's mouth fell open, struck utterly speechless — this woman was none other than the green-clad girl he had encountered at Shanhai Garden in Heyang City when he had descended the mountain.
Note 1: From *Chronicles of Gods and Demons — Bestiary of Monster Beasts*, the Red-Eyed Pig Demon: it bears the head of a pig upon the body of a dog, enormous in stature, its hide bristling with coarse black fur and rigid spines, its crimson eyes capable of sight in absolute darkness. It feeds on carrion and favors dark, damp lairs.
Note 2: *Records of Gods and Demons — Chapter on Spirits and Monsters*, Tree Demon: A tree of a thousand years' age, said to have absorbed the Spiritual Energy of the earth, and further rumored to have drawn upon the malevolent power of vengeful spirits in foul and yin-corrupted places, thereby attaining sentience. Appears in the form of a great tree; ravenously devours living creatures. Some accounts also claim it is capable of moving of its own accord.