Chapter 26: The Ferocious Spirit in the Sealed Chamber

This metal trapdoor seemed to grow from the earth itself, its edges seamless and offering no place to pry it open.

“Clueless now, aren’t you? You thought you could do this alone,” Guli Jinsha folded her arms and sneered.

“Enough with the sarcasm. If you have a way, hurry up—if we dawdle any longer, dawn will break,” I replied impatiently.

She shot me a withering glare, but she knew as well as I that we couldn’t afford to delay. She pulled out a piece of black jade.

The moment its energy rippled through the air, I felt an almost uncontrollable urge to snatch it from her—this was, without a doubt, a true treasure.

Guli Jinsha formed a seal with her fingers and pointed at the black jade. It floated up, suspending itself above the metal trapdoor.

Instantly, the runes of a formation around the door lit up, then began to shimmer and twist.

Moments later, with a sharp click, the metal door popped open, revealing a narrow gap.

My gaze burned into the black jade. Now I understood—she could have silently bypassed this formation all along.

She tucked the jade away, caught my greedy stare, and said coldly, “This is a formation-breaking talisman my master passed down to me. If you ever dare covet it, you’ll die before you even know how it happened—hmph!”

“May I ask who your master is?” I ventured.

“Mo Wuyi,” she replied proudly, lifting her chin with immense satisfaction.

“Er... never heard of him...” I muttered. Honestly, I didn’t recognize any so-called masters in the world of the supernatural.

Guli Jinsha clearly thought I was mocking her; in her circles, everyone knew the name Mo Wuyi.

I said nothing more. Instead, I gripped the edge of the trapdoor, a few Spirit-Breaking Needles in hand, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Below the door was a stone chamber, softly illuminated by flickering runes—just like the glowing symbols on the walls of Zhang Ruyue’s tomb.

“Go down and check it out,” I whispered to Guli Jinsha.

“No,” she replied icily. There was no way she’d play the guinea pig and risk her life.

I didn’t push her. Instead, I pulled out three special sticks of incense from my coat. No need for a lighter—just a quick twist at the tip and all three began to burn, their faint fragrance spreading through the air.

“Spirit-Luring Incense?” she asked.

“Yeah. Do you have any idea how much these cost?” I shot her a pained look.

“Only about a hundred thousand or so, right?” Guli Jinsha said dismissively.

“‘Only’... Aren’t you the famed disciple of Mo Wuyi? Not pulling your weight here, are you?” I gritted my teeth.

She snorted. “If this incense really does lure out any spirits, you won’t have to lift a finger—I’ll handle them all myself.”

“Your words—I’ll hold you to them. I’ll just stand aside and watch the show.” I smirked, holding the incense in one hand. With a snap of my fingers, the incense burned faster, and wisps of smoke drifted down into the stone chamber.

As the incense dwindled to a third of its length, a cold wind rose from below, beads of condensation forming instantly on the ground.

I let go, and the three sticks of incense dropped downward.

But before they landed, an invisible hand snatched them mid-air, and the smoke was greedily consumed in one direction.

My heart skipped a beat, eyes narrowing. I knew there was a ghost below—at least one of the souls from that haunted house had been imprisoned here.

Yet, something about this spirit was unusual. Even with my spirit-seeing eyes, I could only glimpse a faint afterimage.

A fearsome specter could appear before ordinary people, but also completely evade the sight of most spirit mediums.

Could this be the “Commander”?

No, I quickly dismissed the idea. It was just intuition—the spirit was on a higher level than the lecherous ghost I’d destroyed before, but not quite powerful enough to be called a vengeful ghost.

Perhaps a fierce spirit...

At that moment, I felt a chill and instinctively rolled to the side, just as a blast of icy wind swept past me. A pile of goods behind me crashed to the ground with a thunderous roar.

“Damn it, Old Gu, are you going back on your word?” I shouted.

“Do you think I’m like you? We women of the Yue clan always keep our promises,” Guli Jinsha replied, brandishing a short azure blade as she charged forward.

With a low cry, the blade sang out a clear, phoenix-like note. Its edge shimmered with three inches of blue flame, like a stream of sapphire fire.

Swish, swish, swish—

Her swordplay was shockingly fierce; she fought with raw power.

The fierce spirit was lightning-fast and vanished the instant the blade’s light neared it, clearly wary of the short blade in her hand.

I cowered in the back, heart pounding. Thankfully, she hadn’t drawn her blade when I’d restrained her earlier—otherwise, I would have been finished.

Sweat beaded on Guli Jinsha’s forehead. This was definitely a fierce spirit; even the Azure Phoenix Blade couldn’t contain it. Ordinary evil ghosts were lucky to manage half their power under that blade’s pressure.

“Damn you, Qin Feng...” She cursed me inwardly, seeing me leisurely spectating. But she’d said herself she would handle it.

I was beginning to see the truth—without her blade and her arsenal of talismans, Guli Jinsha wouldn’t stand a chance against this spirit.

The privilege of wealth.

I muttered inwardly, then said, “Keep it busy; I’m going down to take a look.”

Without hesitation, I leaped into the stone chamber below.

In the flickering rune-light, I saw a row of crystal coffins.

Nervous, I swallowed hard and crept forward.

Inside each crystal coffin lay the body of a young woman—most were in their prime.

I reached the central coffin and nearly leaped out of my skin.

This one held a middle-aged woman. Unlike the others, who were dressed in pristine silk, her clothes were stiff with clotted, dark brown blood. Most unnerving of all, her eyes were open.

Suddenly, I recalled what Zhang Ruyue had told me, and the bloodstains on the old house walls. I was certain—I knew who this woman was.

She was Zhang Ruyue’s mother.

What Zhang Ruyue could never have imagined was that, while she herself had suffered at the hands of that vengeful ghost, her mother—murdered by her own father—knew no peace either.

Not only had her mother’s body never been laid to rest, it had been used to breed a spirit-wraith, amplifying the resentment she’d died with.

Twelve years had passed. Zhang Ruyue’s mother had become a fierce ghost. As long as her body remained here, her soul would never stray far—unless someone commanded it.

I studied the runes flickering on the chamber walls. They were strange, constructed unlike any I’d seen before. Their rhythm of light and darkness resembled the breathing of a living creature.

The vengeful ghost that controlled Zhang Ruyue had used a drop of blue blood, which I now kept sealed away.

What, then, controlled this fierce spirit?

My eyes scanned the room, finally settling on a tiny black spot between the brows of Zhang Ruyue’s mother’s corpse.

“Soul Nail?” The name of the artifact flashed in my mind. I placed my hand on the coffin lid, intent on moving it.

But the lid was as heavy as a mountain. Even straining with all my might, I could only shift it a sliver.

Just then, a shriek split the air—a shadowy mass slammed into me like lightning. I grunted, thrown hard against the stone wall before crashing to the ground, my mouth filling with the taste of blood, my bones threatening to shatter.

Clutching my chest, I watched as a ghostly figure loomed huge in my vision, death’s chill enveloping me.

Suddenly, an explosion of azure light burst forth. I heard a muffled cry. Looking up, I saw Guli Jinsha standing before me, panting, blood dripping from her sword arm.

A wave of warmth surged in my chest. I gritted my teeth, climbed to my feet, and stood at her side.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

She said nothing.

“Is it serious?”

Still nothing.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Guli Jinsha replied, lifting her head with pride—a gesture that, for a moment, seemed almost endearing.

The fierce spirit, blown back by her attack, now reappeared atop the central crystal coffin, its ghostly form twisting and writhing.

“Don’t you have a Strength Talisman or something?” I asked.

“I do, but only one.” She handed me a sheet of talisman paper glowing faintly gold—obviously top-tier, made of materials ten times pricier than the norm, with vermilion ink worth tens of thousands per ounce.

I took it, murmuring, “Draw that spirit away—I think its weakness is bound to the corpse.”

“You’re sure? I can’t last long,” she said, exhausted and injured, only her will keeping her upright.

“I’m sure. The moment I tried to move the coffin, it attacked me. What do you think?”

“Fine.” Without hesitation, Guli Jinsha shouted, charging at the spirit. It shrieked and rushed to meet her.

With the spirit distracted, I activated the Strength Talisman. Instantly, immense power surged through me—I felt I could move mountains.

Roaring, my arms bulged with strength as I shoved the crystal coffin lid.

A harsh, grinding sound echoed as the lid slid open.

“Hurry!” Guli Jinsha cried, near her limit.

I slammed my palm onto the corpse’s forehead. A needle-fine black spike shot out with a stream of foul blood, and the body began to rot and liquefy in an instant.

At the same time, the fierce spirit froze in place, no longer attacking. Its form twisted, on the verge of dissipating.

Guli Jinsha and I both let out long sighs of relief, exchanging a glance—a fleeting sense of unspoken understanding passing between us.

But our smiles quickly froze.

The runes on the walls, which had flickered erratically, now blazed with blinding light. A wave of wrath surged toward us, overwhelming and inescapable.

And then, the lids of more than twenty crystal coffins flew open at once, and over twenty female corpses sprang upright, straight as arrows.