Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Brave Heart (XII)

“Demon God Xingtian!”

“God of War Xingtian!”

In an instant, both the second and third tiers of the altar erupted with exclamations, yet the titles they used were utterly different.

“Hmph! Demon God? You four old relics still can’t let go of the past, can you?” Eight distinctly different voices sounded from within Xingtian’s demonic visage, each one dripping with mockery and disdain.

“You wandering lost souls haven’t forgotten Xingtian either. Sooner or later, you’ll suffer disaster because of him,” sneered Mo Lishou, regarding them as if they were already dead.

“In those days, our lord Xingtian almost shattered the Heavenly Court single-handedly. Even after his defeat, his demonic form nearly stormed Mount Sumeru. You four old relics first served the Heavenly Court, and after its decline, you became guardians of Mount Sumeru. Twice you encountered our lord in succession—no wonder your resentment runs so deep.” The eight voices, each jarring and strange, were full of biting sarcasm.

“So you’re the Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain! Hmph! Xingtian’s remnants, you should have been eradicated to the last back then!” Mo Liqing’s temper was clearly foul; his words were harsh and showed no mercy.

The eight voices fell silent. “So you are indeed the Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain. Born of the world’s yin energy just like us—why must you help these four old relics suppress me?” The voice from within the coffin no longer sounded sinister or oppressive, but rather rang out clear and youthful, like a boy’s.

“Hahaha, you still want to unite with these wandering souls and wraiths against us? Dream on! Back then, Xingtian commanded countless peerless monsters, yet when he struck at the Heavenly Court and climbed Mount Sumeru, he went alone. Do you really expect these cowards to help you? What a ridiculous thought.” Mo Lihong looked at him as if he were a fool, thoroughly contemptuous.

“Silence! Back then, for special reasons, we were all willing to live and die with our lord!” The demonic visage of Xingtian shrouded in black mist showed signs of unraveling; the Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain were clearly deeply agitated, struggling even to maintain the demonic form.

“Enough! Our real task is to join forces and suppress this monster. Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain, let’s put aside our grudges for today and deal with them later,” Mo Lihai interrupted in time, trying to resolve the crisis swiftly and avoid unforeseen complications.

“I am born of the essence of heaven’s yin and earth’s quintessence. If you aid me today, I can help unseal Xingtian once I am reborn. As I grow stronger, I’ll become a great ally for the God of War. We could roam the Three Realms together, far freer than toiling in the underworld,” the being within the coffin, clearly unwilling to give up, continued trying to persuade the Eight Ghosts.

“Heh, this brat’s words are flowery as a song. Who in this world could break a seal set by both the Heavenly Emperor and the Buddha? You should just keep serving your time in the underworld and wait for Xingtian’s demonic nature to fade and his virtue to return. Only then can you reunite with your lord,” Mo Lihong laughed coldly, showing utter disdain for the so-called being born of earth’s yin quintessence.

The Eight Ghosts fell silent again. When the being in the coffin spoke of unsealing Xingtian, they had indeed wavered. But as Mo Lihong said, who in all the world could break a seal cast by both the Heavenly Emperor and Buddha? They had tried many times before, always in vain; hope had long since faded.

“Others may not, but I am a demonic embryo gestated over countless eons by the world’s yin and earth’s essence. At my core, I share the same source as Xingtian. In other words, though I cannot break the seal myself, I can awaken the God of War within it, letting him break free on his own,” the being within the coffin—more precisely, the demonic embryo—was now desperate to be born, throwing all caution aside.

“So you’re a demonic embryo born of heaven’s yin and earth’s quintessence! Hmph! Don’t even think of being reborn! Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain, what are you waiting for? Do not forget why Xingtian was sealed in the first place!” Mo Lishou, sensing danger, gritted his teeth and alluded to secrets unknown to the world.

The Eight Ghosts let out a long, ghostly sigh, their voices low and filled with bitterness. “As you wish.”

The demonic embryo fell silent, deeply disappointed. He could not understand why the Eight Ghosts, having clearly been tempted, would turn away because of old grievances. His heart was full of unwillingness, desperate to know what truly happened back then, and what secrets lay hidden beneath Xingtian’s seal.

Under the combined suppression of the Eight Ghosts and the Four Heavenly Kings, the black mist leaking from the coffin was gradually forced back. “Hah! The Coffin of Death may have protected and nurtured you, but it’s also trapped you inside. In the end, you are no Xingtian; you’ll never be able to stir up chaos in the Three Realms,” Mo Lishou said, feigning sympathy now that the outcome was assured.

“Four Heavenly Kings, Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain, I’ll remember what you’ve done to me today. Once I escape, I will reward you handsomely!” The demonic embryo’s words were chillingly cold, utterly devoid of feeling.

“Hahaha! You think you’ll escape? We’re suppressing you at every moment. An opportunity like this, to form a domain of the underworld in the mortal world, appears only once in countless eons. Do you think you’ll ever have another chance?” Mo Lihong sneered.

“We four brothers are looking forward to your reward! Hahaha!”

“That’s right, we’ll be waiting—we’ll be waiting!” The Four Heavenly Kings spared no effort in mocking the soon-to-be-subdued demonic embryo, their gloating obvious. The Eight Ghosts of Changyang Mountain only sighed and dispersed the demonic visage of Xingtian.

Elsewhere, after Luo Hanya’s spiritual energy was spent, the wraiths, unexpectedly, did not devour the three. Instead, they reverted to spirit form, thousands of them glowing with a faint blue light. They gently lifted Luo Hanya and her two companions, swiftly carrying them away in a single direction.

The three gazed in astonishment at the flying phalanx formed by the thousands of wraiths, feeling as if they’d seen a ghost—well, in truth, they had.

Minutes later, the three were brought to a towering mountain, oddly white in color, smooth as jade and radiating a crystalline brilliance. At its summit stood a white altar. No plants grew on the mountain; all was white as far as the eye could see. Occasionally, a ghostly blue light drifted by—if not ghost fire, then a wraith. The entire mountain exuded a bizarre and terrifying aura.

The three were set down upon the altar. At its center hovered a wisp of black mist.

“Black Crow, I sense your presence once again. This is the first chance in countless eons like this. If you help me now, I will grant you a share of the energy of death,” the demonic embryo’s urgent voice sounded through the black mist.

The altar flickered with a strange white light. The moment the light flashed, Wang Yibo and Li Song dissolved into dust and vanished, leaving only Luo Hanya sitting dazed and motionless atop the altar, no longer resembling anything living.