The Price of a Promise

Su Mo couldn’t be certain if the presence of the Golden Core was the reason she kept encountering so many Foundation Establishment-stage female ghosts.

Yet, with no other recourse, she could only rely on Mo Lian’s formidable strength.

The only alternative would be to invoke the Ghost General’s promise, thereby securing his aid, and perhaps even that of the Underworld itself.

“Miss Su, you should hide behind me,” Mo Lian instructed, her aura surging dramatically as she prepared to unleash her full power.

She raised a hand, and above them, the sky began to rumble incessantly. Lightning coalesced, flashing brilliantly in the darkened expanse.

The true terror of a Golden Core cultivator lay in their ability to commune with heaven and earth, drawing upon the very essence of the land to unleash devastating attacks.

Under such immense pressure from the heavens, cultivators of the Foundation Establishment stage were utterly incapable of resistance.

As someone who also wielded lightning, Su Mo, having cultivated the ‘Dust-Questioning Heart Thunder’ technique, possessed an even deeper perception of the storm gathering above.

The lightning Mo Lian summoned was Yin Thunder, a stark contrast to its Yang counterpart.

Yang Thunder typically embodied righteous energy, resembling the majestic wrath of the heavens, intent on purging all impurities from the world.

Yin Thunder, however, was far more insidious and encompassing. Once it struck, it would cling to its target like a persistent balm, continuously debilitating the enemy.

Some cultivators even managed to infuse Yin Thunder with additional properties, imbuing it with extreme cold or corrosive poison.

To Su Mo’s senses, Mo Lian’s Yin Thunder, beyond its inherent lightning-like dominance, carried an oppressive stillness—a dark, mind-devouring mist that threatened to envelop everything.

“Buzz!” A radiant halo materialized behind Mo Lian’s head. In that instant, her every gesture seemed to command the heavens and earth, sending invisible ripples cascading through the air.

The horde of eight-armed female ghosts had already perceived the aerial threat, its origin none other than the figure clad in black and white robes before them.

The female ghosts surged forward in unison.

“Hiss~” As Su Mo gazed upwards, it felt as though a rain of female ghosts was descending from the heavens, blotting out the entire sky.

The female ghosts’ greenish-black colossal hands pressed down; even before they reached her, a palpable wind pressure assaulted her face.

“Perish,” Mo Lian commanded, her voice regaining its original, clear and cold timbre. It resonated through the surroundings, echoes folding upon themselves, like the decree of a divine being.

“Boom! Boom!!” A torrent of lightning descended, instantly illuminating the vast night sky.

Within the blinding flash of lightning, Su Mo struggled to keep her eyes open, witnessing the celestial white mist scatter to reveal the demonic form hidden behind it.

Amidst such a colossal disturbance, Su Mo vaguely perceived two blood-red moons appearing in the sky—they were eyes.

In that fleeting moment of eye contact, she felt as though she had plunged into an icy abyss, a single breath stretching out to feel like several years.

“Clatter, clatter, clatter…” All around, the rain of female ghosts ceased. Their charred bodies, unmistakably lifeless, plummeted to the ground.

As their bodies fell, forming coincidentally arranged circles, Su Mo found herself gazing up at the sky, enveloped by an unsettling, eerie atmosphere.

Had offerings been laid before her, it would have perfectly resembled a scene of cultist sacrifice.

Fortunately, while Su Mo believed in the existence of deities, she held little reverence for them.

Otherwise, she might have inadvertently become a fanatical worshipper, a disciple of the demon.

“Whoosh—!” With a sweep of her hand, Mo Lian shattered the circle of female ghost corpses. Her expression was grim, a deep frown marring her features.

She realized the demon had played a trick on them. A mind-altering formation had been coincidentally placed beneath their feet.

Turning back with renewed vigilance, she observed the dazed Su Mo and questioned her in a cold voice:

“Miss Su, are you still yourself?”

It was a peculiar question, yet remarkably simple and effective.

The instant Su Mo’s eyes cleared, Mo Lian discerned the truth from the expression on her face.

Su Mo was unharmed.

A touch of surprise flickered across her features; she hadn’t anticipated that this woman possessed such an unyielding will to resist the demon.

“Milady, how could I not be myself?” Su Mo asked, confused. Upon closer thought, however, a shiver ran down her spine.

She had indeed felt peculiar moments ago, particularly during that direct gaze with the demon’s eyes.

A strange tugging sensation had enveloped her, and even now, her body felt light and ethereal, as if on the verge of floating away.

“You are still yourself, but the demon acted just now, employing a mind-altering technique. Had you not withstood it, I would have had no choice but to kill you.”

“There was no other way?” Su Mo asked, astonished.

Mo Lian shook her head resignedly. She had never heard of anyone recovering their sanity after succumbing to demonic influence.

Calming the fluctuations of her spiritual energy, Mo Lian glanced at the path behind Su Mo and inquired:

“Miss Su, where were you intending to go just now?”

“The Zhang Estate?” Su Mo blinked, certain she must have misheard.

Hadn’t Mo Lian been in a hurry to reach the city gates?

With a nod, Mo Lian took the lead, stepping onto the narrow path that led towards the Zhang Estate.

Her back to Su Mo, she let out a self-deprecating chuckle:

“I underestimated the demon’s tactics. That formation just now proves he’s far from simple… To believe that merely leaving the city would resolve this calamity was utterly naive of me.”

“Milady, wait a moment,” Su Mo called out, halting her.

When Mo Lian turned, a puzzled expression on her face, she saw Su Mo clutching a dilapidated, handled bell. Su Mo then darted to each female ghost corpse, shaking the bell a few times with an excited fervor.

‘Hmm?’ Mo Lian mused. ‘To think Su Mo possessed such an artifact, capable of devouring spirits.’

As the War Bell began its consumption, its cracks vanished at a visibly rapid pace, as if being painted over by a vibrant, greenish-blue hue that spread across its surface.

The bell’s chime, produced by its excited shaking, grew increasingly clear, its power steadily amplifying.

By the end, the sound was so potent that it momentarily disoriented Mo Lian, making her imagine a horde of galloping ghost steeds trampling over her.

“Milady, I’m ready,” Su Mo announced, rushing back with a wide smile.

She could already sense the Skinny Horse’s excited commotion within the War Bell.

With such a significant boost in power, she estimated that Skinny Horse could now contend with two opponents of her own strength.

Mo Lian nodded stiffly, a flicker of suspicion crossing her mind: ‘Was Su Mo secretly a wealthy young lady?’

Such growth-type artifacts were exceedingly rare.

“Milady?” Su Mo’s voice broke through her contemplation.

“Yes, let’s go.”

The Zhang Estate was, in fact, only a few streets away from their current location.

As they walked, it became starkly apparent that the ethereal figures of pedestrians were far fewer than before, a chilling observation that prompted hushed whispers.

Upon reaching the entrance of the Zhang Estate, Su Mo was assailed by a potent stench of blood, causing her heart to lurch.

A large pool of blood stained the doorway, with scattered fragments of flesh strewn across it.

A torn sleeve lay immersed in the crimson pool, its fabric soaked. Su Mo found it eerily familiar.

“Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle…” Faint, sporadic sounds emanated from around the corner, where a man’s dark silhouette stood.

Before Su Mo could even react, Mo Lian executed a swift leap, her figure vanishing in a blur as she pursued the shadowy form.

As she vanished, her voice echoed back:

“Miss Su! Follow me…”

The voice receded into the distance, yet Su Mo remained rooted to her spot.

Her pupils dilated as she stared blankly at the estate’s entrance, the echoes of its former vibrancy seemingly reverberating in her ears.

Drawn by an irresistible urge, she stepped forward, entering the grim confines of the Zhang Estate.

Scattered corpses lay everywhere, some slumped in the corners of the long corridors, others grotesquely draped over railings.

Silently, she turned over one of the bodies. It was a maid, a stark, knife-inflicted gash marring her throat.

‘Could it be… a human perpetrator?’ Su Mo clenched her fists.

Recalling the figure Mo Lian had pursued, she suspected it was indeed that individual.

‘With Mo Lian’s Golden Core cultivation, she should surely be able to apprehend that person,’ Su Mo thought, rising to her feet and casting a brief glance at the blood-stained hem of her skirt.

Taking a deep breath and steeling her resolve, Su Mo made her way towards what had once been her private chambers.

“Squeak, squeak…” A rat scurried past her feet, a grisly piece of bloody flesh dangling from its jaws.

Following its path in the opposite direction, she saw a martial artist pinned to the wall, his eyes wide and vacant, stripped of all life.

‘…’ Su Mo recognized him. He was one of the Zhang family guards who had followed them, secretly tasked with their protection.

The last time she saw him, she had entrusted him and the others with the safety of Zhang Jingmeng…

With heavy steps, Su Mo pushed open the boudoir door, her gaze fixed numbly on the small, curled-up corpse on the bed.

The once delicate, jade-like face now lay lifeless on the bed, devoid of its former vitality.

Her eyes remained wide, brimming with a hopeful anticipation, as if still awaiting someone’s arrival.

She vividly recalled the conversation she’d had with Jingmeng that day:

“If you jump like that, you’ll get hurt!”

“Hehe, Immortal Sister will definitely catch me, no matter when!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just feel that Immortal Sister is the *best* person in the world!”

At the time, Su Mo had taken it as a jest and replied:

“Then, from now on, Big Sister will always protect you?”

“Yay!”

Silently, Su Mo cradled the small corpse, a melancholic smile on her face as she shook her head. An overwhelming, inexpressible guilt reverberated in her heart.

Touching Jingmeng’s pale, small hand, she reminisced about the past, and a sudden possibility struck her:

‘Can I save her soul? The War Bell! Skinny Horse can definitely do it!’

Immediately, she pulled out the War Bell and summoned the ghost horse, asking urgently:

“Skinny Horse, you’re so strong now, can you preserve her soul?”

‘…’ The ghost horse stomped its foreleg, gazing at her silently, then shook its head.

It did not understand where Su Mo’s confidence came from.

After all, it was merely an ordinary ghost horse from the Underworld.

Still, it could try.