Chapter Forty-Seven: The Sect of Evil Spirits (Part Two)

“Alright, let’s continue then!”

I could hear three or four people talking, but I couldn’t see any of them at all. This struck me as very strange; after all, I possess the ability to see both the living and the dead, and even ghosts are visible to me. Yet now, I couldn’t see these four “people” speaking right in front of me. Could it be they aren’t human?

At that moment, Tu responded to me within my mind, “Master, those are four rat spirits. Look at the ground!”

Only then did I lift my gaze toward the ground not far away. By the faint light of the moon, I could just barely make out several wriggling shadows moving about.

“Over here, look at this!”

Suddenly, I saw a black whirlpool appear not far off, with waves of cold, ghostly energy surging forth. Of course, on such a night, no ordinary person would notice unless they were paying very close attention, but in one corner, countless swirling eddies of dark energy began to coalesce, bubbling up like marsh gas.

“Sanzi, this has to be the place. This must be the entrance the Deputy Leader mentioned.”

“Let’s dig and see!”

At once, I heard a rustling sound. Witnessing this, I was torn between amusement and shock—after all, it was my first time seeing such a spectacle.

In the past, I would have been frightened out of my wits by a sight like this, but now I was utterly unfazed; I could almost face these things with composure. The world has always harbored demons and ghosts—there’s nothing unusual about it. These things are meant to exist.

“There’s something strange about this place.”

As I stood there, watching the bubbling miasma of murderous energy, I felt a sudden tightness in my chest.

Another problem?

A chill ran through me. If even Xiyue was frowning, then this place must be more than just a little odd.

“Master, there seems to be a great ghost lurking in that corner.”

A great ghost?

I tried to picture what such a being might look like.

Just then, a violent, chilling wind suddenly swept down from above. Soon after, an ancient, mournful tune began to play in the distance—the kind played at funerals in olden times. I turned my head and saw two neat rows of people, and in the center, a palanquin adorned with a face mask like those in Peking opera. Mounted on the outside was a huge, ghastly face, exuding a sinister aura that made me unspeakably uneasy.

“Xiyue, what is this…”

“This should be the Deputy Leader those rat demons mentioned earlier. Let’s watch for now. I can sense the dark energy in that corner gathering rapidly—the form of that entity should soon reveal itself!”

“The Master is here!”

Those two lines of people stopped almost right beside us. My heart beat faster, but Xiyue whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ve used the Great Annihilation Technique from the Azure Dragon Secret Arts to hide our presence and voices. They won’t detect us.”

Reassured by her words, I nodded.

“Master, this is a true master of the occult—but he’s making an entrance like a great ghost!”

I remained silent, for I was already stunned. The person stepping out of the palanquin with the ghostly face was someone I knew. Although many years had passed, I could never forget the teacher who enlightened me as a child. Indeed, the man who emerged was none other than my elementary school Chinese teacher, who taught me for six full years.

“What’s wrong, Xiaodong? Do you know him?” Xiyue, standing beside me, seemed to sense my agitation and asked at once.

I nodded and explained my thoughts.

“Your elementary school teacher? When was the last time you saw Su Ying?” Xiyue asked suddenly. Since being with her, I’d told her much about my past, and Su Ying was a story I could never skip—a memory burned into my soul.

“High school! First year!” I replied quickly.

Xiyue’s frown deepened as her gaze locked onto the man who had stepped out, no longer paying me any mind.

Suddenly, a few miserable screams sounded nearby.

Two small, blood-soaked white rats were rushing toward the Deputy Leader under the moonlight.

The Deputy Leader snorted coldly and flicked his hand, sending a talisman flying.

“Useless things! The Sect of Evil Spirits has no place for such worthless creatures!”

As he spoke, he squeezed the talisman, shattering it instantly—and with that, the two little rat demons were also crushed.

A voice suddenly rose from the darkness in the corner.

“Who dares disturb my meditation?”

It was an old woman’s voice, hoarse and trembling, as if she hadn’t spoken for many years.

“Hm?”

At this moment, my elementary school Chinese teacher—the Deputy Leader of the Sect of Evil Spirits—frowned slightly and stepped forward. He said nothing, but, seemingly unperturbed, lifted his hand and drew a talisman in the air, sending it forth.

“Break!”

As the talisman flew out, he shouted, and immediately the shadowed corner shuddered violently, followed by a sound like shattering glass.

“It’s been many years since I’ve crossed paths with a master of the occult. To think that upon my awakening, I’d be attacked by one—how interesting!”

Despite my former teacher’s attack, the old woman’s voice sounded less hoarse than before. The darkness around us surged, rushing toward the corner where her voice came from, forming a massive whirlpool in an instant.

“Stop your tricks! Whatever you are, come out now!”

To be honest, this arrogant master of the occult standing before me—though he looked and was built exactly like my elementary school teacher—was utterly unlike the gentle man I remembered. Most notably, he seemed so formidable now; back then, my teacher was known throughout the school for being afraid of his wife, and he was always gentle, even with us students.

The Deputy Leader of the Sect of Evil Spirits suddenly took a step forward and grabbed at the shadows, conjuring a golden, ancient character in his palm—the symbol for “Break.” But this was no ordinary character; it was one of those ancient runes unknown in our world.

The moment that rune appeared, the air trembled violently.

The very space beneath his palm began to unravel, layer by layer, beneath the power of that ancient symbol.

“You actually possess such a mysterious rune, but you can’t even wield its true power. This script belongs to the ancient gods—you, a mere mortal, dare to control it? What a waste! Hand it over to me!”

Excitement filled the old woman’s voice.

Upon hearing her words, I shuddered.

An ancient rune—the script of the gods of old?