The Evil Ghost Cultivator

Ring… ring… ring…

A series of extremely faint, almost imperceptible, crisp copper bell chimes pierced through the damp, decaying air of the rift valley, drifting from the distance.

The sound was not pleasant; instead, it carried a chilling cold and a sharp malice that bored straight into the soul.

“That brat stole our sect’s sacred artifact! Don’t let him get away!”

“You lot, hurry up! Make it quick, don’t let this interfere with the hunt.”

The sparse sound of footsteps rustled in the dense forest, causing Lu Qiancha’s heart to sink lower and lower with each step.

‘What kind of mess is this?!’

He had come to take on a low-level sect mission to earn some contribution points, only to be pursued by a demonic sword that insisted on acknowledging him as its master.

Not only that, but a powerful demonic sect had mistaken him for the sword thief and had been chasing him relentlessly for forty or fifty miles!

The life-threatening chimes behind him grew closer then more distant, like a maggot clinging to his bones, agitating his mind and spirit.

The pursuers’ footsteps sounded sparse, yet they carried an immense pressure, each step falling with a unique rhythm that subtly formed an encirclement.

Lu Qiancha knew very well that these were cultivators with superior movement techniques, spreading out to corner him, not some ordinary patrol soldiers.

He could feel several tangible, cold spiritual senses, like incorporeal tentacles, sweeping over the areas where he might be hiding time and again.

If not for his exceptional spiritual talent, which gave him perception far exceeding his peers, and his deliberate choice of complex terrain, using the ubiquitous damp moss and twisted rock crevices to mask his aura and distort the light, he would have likely been pinpointed long ago.

“Boy, those people are about to catch up. Do you want to live?”

A languid female voice spoke directly into Lu Qiancha’s mind, laced with a hint of mockery that made his already taut nerves flare with irritation.

The owner of this voice was none other than the demonic sword that had dragged him into this disaster!

He desperately wanted to roar at his sea of consciousness, ‘Aren’t these people here because of you?!’

But he no longer had the energy for such witty remarks.

His mind was stretched taut like a fully drawn bowstring, all his senses focused on the increasingly dense rustling of footsteps deep within the fog and that curse-like, life-reaping “ring… ring…”

He pressed himself against the cold, slippery stone wall, his breathing nearly suspended, the corner of his eye locked on the shadowy outlines of several black figures gradually approaching through the purplish-gray mist.

“Heh, no reply? You’d better think carefully. You’re the one in a hurry, not me.”

The demonic sword’s voice was still languid, yet it carried a cold certainty, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.

“You are now surrounded on all eight sides, utterly besieged. Besides me, no one can save you.”

“Then hurry up and do something!”

Lu Qiancha practically ground his teeth, forcing a low growl from the depths of his throat, his voice hoarse with fear and tension.

He had no other choice!

If the demonic sword did nothing, he would be flayed and have his soul extracted by the demonic cultivators.

If the demonic sword acted… at least there was a sliver of a chance to breathe!

“You’re the one who said it.”

The female voice instantly shed all its languor, leaving only pure, indifferent coldness.

Before the words had even faded—

Voom!

A terrifying hum that did not originate from his ears exploded within Lu Qiancha’s body!

It was as if his blood and marrow had been forcibly frozen and extracted in that instant, only to be injected with some kind of extremely violent energy!

He felt his body—every joint, every muscle, even the nerves in his fingertips—instantaneously slip from his conscious control!

He watched helplessly as his own right hand, completely beyond his command, rose!

In his palm, a rusty, dilapidated iron sword that looked as if it had just been dug out of a grave materialized from thin air.

In that moment, Lu Qiancha “saw” everything within a dozen yards in front of him with perfect clarity—seven disciples of the Yin Soul Sect, dressed in black and red martial attire, were closing in a fan formation.

Their faces wore the cruel smiles of cats toying with mice, and three of them had nearly transparent, ghastly white threads wrapped around their fingers.

But their expressions, in the instant the overwhelming pressure descended, froze, twisted, and became utterly horrified!

The demonic sword, controlling Lu Qiancha’s body, gave an infinitesimally small flick of the wrist, and the blade’s edge traced an incredibly profound arc through the air.

At that moment, Lu Qiancha seemed to vaguely “see” an illusory river composed of solidified despair, burning hatred, and demonic essence as thick as blood, flowing forth from the tip of the rusty iron sword.

“No!! Sacred Artifact, protect your master—”

The disciple’s soul nearly fled his body. His eyes wide with terror, he frantically channeled the broken copper bell, which emitted a dying wail.

A blinding, ghastly green light erupted from the fractured bell, and the solid, malevolent phantom of a vicious ghost struggled to emerge, opening its massive maw to devour the onrushing river of demonic essence!

However, it was useless!

Sizzle—!

Like a hot knife slicing through molten butter!

The ghostly phantom, which had condensed the power of countless resentful souls, twisted and shrieked as it disintegrated inch by inch the moment it was touched by the river of demonic essence!

The half of the copper bell that carried the sect’s tracking sorcery, as if meeting its natural predator, couldn’t even struggle.

With a barely audible, sorrowful “ding,” it shattered into the finest powder, not even a glimmer of spiritual light remaining!

Thud!

The river’s momentum continued unabated, washing over the disciple’s body gently yet unstoppably.

He didn’t explode or dissolve; rather, all his life force and soul were completely “washed away” by the river of demonic essence in an instant.

All that remained was an empty shell with vacant eyes and skin that had instantly shriveled to the color of dead wood.

It collapsed to the ground with a soft thud and subsequently turned to dust under the residual sword qi!

As if not yet satisfied, the demonic sword controlled Lu Qiancha’s body to execute an utterly graceless and casual flourish, silently shaking off the blood beads from the rusty iron sword.

The terrifying pressure, which had felt capable of crushing the heavens and the earth, receded like a tide.

The moment control of his body returned, an unprecedented, indescribable sense of immense emptiness and tearing pain seized Lu Qiancha!

But just then—

Boom!

A violent and pure torrent of spiritual energy erupted, crashing into his parched meridians with devastating force!

Lu Qiancha forcefully steadied his violently trembling body and slumped to the ground, hastily circulating the Heavenly Origin Art!

“How does it feel, ant?”

The demonic sword’s female voice regained its languor, but it was now mixed with undisguised greed and satisfaction, as if she had just enjoyed a fine appetizer.

“This feeling of growing stronger just by killing people, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? So easy, it’s worth more than a dozen years of hard work for a mediocre talent like you.”

Lu Qiancha paid her no mind, or rather, his entire focus was on the tempest raging within his body.

He could clearly see, through internal inspection, the barrier of his early-stage Spirit Transformation realm shattering layer by layer under the impact of this violent torrent.

Mid-stage Spirit Transformation!

Late-stage Spirit Transformation!

And finally—peak Spirit Transformation!

He had ascended to the heavens in a single step!

However, the ecstasy remained on Lu Qiancha’s face for less than a breath.

Closing his eyes to calm his mind, Lu Qiancha faintly uttered, “Heretical and wicked ways…”

“Heh~”

The demonic sword let out an exceedingly pleased and languid laugh, as if hearing the most beautiful praise.

“Curse me all you want, ant. After all… you’re about to die anyway.”

The demonic sword’s voice sounded again, this time dropping the languid tone and adopting the curious air of one observing a new toy.

“Your three spiritual souls are in chaos, your seven mortal souls are shaken… Tsk, tsk, tsk, that Yin Soul Bell is even more vicious than my soul-devouring demonic sword.”

Lu Qiancha opened his eyes, looked at the rusty sword before him, and asked, “After all this beating around the bush… what are you trying to say?”

“Oh, my, don’t be so grumpy. I finally found a suitable host; how could I possibly let you die just like that?”

The demonic sword’s voice held a devilish temptation:

“If you want to live, it’s both simple and difficult. All you need is a little essence blood from a royal demon bloodline. It’s the only key to repairing this broken body of yours!”

Hearing this promise that sounded like heavenly music, Lu Qiancha felt his heart being squeezed by an icy hand!

The demon race had always revered strength, and any who dared to call themselves a king was an overlord of a region, with a cultivation of at least the Integration Realm.

Let’s not even consider whether he could find a demon king in this desolate wilderness.

Even if he did… me, a peak Spirit Transformation cultivator, fighting an Integration Realm expert?

‘Is this a joke?!’

Besides, this whole area was now crawling with disciples from that Yin Soul Sect.

If he were caught by them, a swift death would be a mercy.

He would be skinned, his tendons pulled, and his soul refined into one of those soul-snatching demon bells, never to be reincarnated.

The demonic sword’s voice carried a hint of nonchalance. “Let me give you a hint. Right in the center of this forest, there’s a demon king. As for how you’re going to get your hands on its royal essence blood…”

She paused, her tone filled with the anticipation of watching a good show, “…that’s something I can’t help you with.”

“How do you know that?”

He couldn’t help but ask.