As the sun dipped below the western horizon and dusk settled in, the caravan was forced to halt and set up camp.

Old Bai calmly gave orders, and in no time, the remaining twenty-some soldiers had felled a swath of trees and erected a makeshift encampment.

They lit fires and prepared food.

Fed the horses.

Then, Old Bai untied a small pouch from his waist and began sprinkling the white powder within in a circle around the perimeter.

Another half an hour passed.

The sun had fully vanished.

Night veiled the world in darkness.

In the depths of the forest, a black silhouette watched them silently.

As night fell, the thing no longer bothered to conceal its presence.

“Tell the men not to stray too far from the camp,” said Old Bai, gripping the hilt of his waist-hung blade, holding a steaming bowl of food as he warned the young soldiers who had followed him through thick and thin.

One of the young soldiers, chewing on hot food, asked through a mouthful, “Boss, just now Wang Tiewa went off to do his business, he was far off since we were cooking. He should be fine, right?”

Seeing Old Bai’s grave expression, the soldier quickly set down his bowl, wiped his hands on his tunic, and stood up, hand on his blade. “I’ll go find him.”

“No need,” Old Bai stopped him firmly.

When they were together, their collective yang energy kept the ghosts at bay.

But if they split up, they'd be picked off one by one.

If luck was on their side, Wang Tiewa might still make it back alive.

If not, then sending someone out would only add another corpse to the tally.

They waited for another half-hour.

Still no sign of Wang Tiewa.

A bad premonition crept into Old Bai’s heart.

Truthfully, he had known from the moment he saw that black shadow, they’d already been marked.

Just seven days ago...

These things were different from bandits. They never gave up once they locked onto a target.

If it were mountain bandits, even dozens, or hundreds, wouldn’t pose much of a threat.

But with these things… Old Bai had no confidence.

He hurried back to the carriage and retrieved the Revered Soul Banner.

Even if they couldn’t use it properly, it was still an immortal master’s artifact, just holding it brought a sense of security.

If it could deter the ghosts, even better.

Tu Shanjun finally saw the light of day again.

He sized up the one holding the banner.

A lean, tough old man, about fifty, with dark skin, his face a map of wrinkles and scars.

He radiated killing intent.

Clearly a man who’d taken lives.

“So that’s what happened,” Tu Shanjun understood.

From the moment they left the city, he had sensed a lurking aura of yin and death trailing them. Now, the aura around them had grown exponentially stronger.

They were being hunted.

A long, low, mournful howl echoed through the night.

The drowsy soldiers, stomachs full of warm food, instantly snapped awake.

They leapt to their feet, gripping their waist blades tightly, scanning the darkness with tense expressions.

This wasn’t their first encounter with such things, while not exactly routine, it wasn’t unfamiliar either.

Still, fear lingered in their hearts.

Thud.

Heavy footsteps hit the ground.

A figure stepped out from the darkness, silhouetted against the rising flames.

The man wore an embroidered uniform, a long blade at his waist. His face was gaunt, his eyes a ghostly white.

“Tiewa!” a young soldier beside Old Bai cried out, rushing forward to meet him.

But Old Bai grabbed him back with a firm hand.

He shook his head at the young man.

Suppressing the fear in his own heart, he raised his voice and said, “Mighty spirit, if you are here in person, know that we are the Embroidered Guards of Great Liang. Might you spare my little brother and grant us passage?”

The gaunt-faced, white-eyed ‘Tiewa’ moved stiffly, stepping forward twice more.

Only when he reached the line of white powder did he halt.

He raised a hand and pointed at the carriage.

The Old Bai followed his gesture.

Trouble.

His heart sank again.

They knew exactly what was in that carriage.

It held the corpse of the cultivator from Offering Pavilion.

The ghosts had come for the immortal's body.

Demons and wraiths feasted on flesh.

If they got their hands on a cultivator’s corpse, they would become far more powerful.

By then, none of the twenty-some men here would make it to Liang City alive.

Seeing Old Bai hesitate, the thing raised its foot again, trying to cross the white line.

Zing!

Blades were drawn.

The moment Old Bai unsheathed his sword, all twenty-some soldiers followed suit, forming tight battle formations.

‘Tiewa’ seemed to fear the white line.

His raised foot hovered, then slowly dropped back. He pointed again toward the carriage.

The meaning was clear.

To hand over the cultivator’s corpse would be a grievous offense.

If they returned empty-handed, not only the soldiers but their families would suffer collective punishment.

Unless they all died here.

If they died in battle, however, their names would be honored, their families protected and elevated.

“My lord, what if we give them that rumored demonic immortal master’s corpse instead? Maybe we could trade it for our safety?” a young man near Old Bai whispered.

Their original mission had been to guard the immortal masters and wait for the battle to end before returning.

But when they reached Eight Directions County…

The demonic immortal master turned out to be terrifyingly powerful.

It had taken the lives of two immortal masters to bring him down.

They couldn’t hand over the righteous immortal masters’ corpses but maybe they could trade the demonic one for peace.

Before Old Bai could respond, Tu Shanjun within the Revered Soul Banner was already fuming.

Whoever dared touch Li Qingfeng’s body, he’d make sure they met a gruesome end.

The Old Bai shook his head. “There’s no bargaining with these things.”

They wouldn’t settle.

Offering the corpse would only make them seem weak.

Like a pack of ravenous beasts, once they tasted blood, they would never stop.

Seeing Old Bai still silent, ‘Tiewa’ grew impatient, lowering his foot.

Hiss!

Like branding iron searing into raw flesh.

The sound of sizzling echoed.

A burnt stench filled the air.

A shrill wail tore through the night.

A shadowy figure burst from Tiewa’s body.

But the white flames clinging to it were relentless.

In mere moments, the specter was reduced to ash.

Tiewa’s body, too, was scorched into a mummified husk and fell within the white-lined perimeter.

The soldiers exhaled in relief.

The lime powder, infused with gold dust and spiritual power of cultivators, had worked.

Two soldiers rushed forward to drag the charred body of Tiewa back inside the perimeter.

But the forest shadows had not thinned at all.

A flash of red light.

A hunchbacked ghost dropped to the ground, bearing a crimson palanquin.

Figures flickered like war refugees, surrounding the camp.

From within the palanquin, a pale, skeletal hand extended…

And pointed at the carriage.

“My apologies,” Old Bai barked, “But you foul beasts must leave now or face utter annihilation!”

ROAR!

A furious wind howled.

From behind the red veil of the palanquin, waves of gray mist surged out.

The Old Bai’s defiance had clearly enraged them.

A storm rose, and the white line of powder on the ground was blown away.

“Bring the black dog’s blood!”

Thud.

Thunk.

Four barrels of black dog’s blood were brought out.

“Dip your blades, cover yourselves!”

The soldiers smeared their blades with the blood, coating their faces and armor as well.

“Formation!”

The Old Bai roared.

Twenty-four soldiers broke into five squads, forming five tight combat formations.

As the white line was nearly erased by the wind, the ghosts lurking in the shadows could wait no longer.

They surged forth.

The long night blazed like fire, with demons running rampant. Boiling oil, blazing flames, unnatural fiends shrieked through the chaos.

“Kill!”

The black dog’s blood, bolstered with spiritual energy and gold dust, formed a protective armor.

Blades slashed. Axes fell.

The battle formations ground the ghosts to pieces.

The Old Bai charged forward, waist blade flashing.

Thwack!

A slash took off a hunchbacked ghost’s head.

He gripped the one-foot-long Revered Soul Banner and thrust it into a white-faced ghost rushing in.

The moment it pierced the ghost, it was sucked into the banner without even a scream.

Tu Shanjun nodded slightly.

Not bad, the ghostly essence nourished him, healing his injuries further.

Suddenly, the thing inside the red palanquin burst out.

But it didn’t attack Old Bai, it fled.

Like a strip of white silk, it vanished into the woods in a blink.

The Old Bai looked down at the Revered Soul Banner in amazement. “Such power, so this is the might of an immortal master’s treasure.”

Tu Shanjun chuckled silently. He’s not even seen me at full power.

Still, this old man had a good eye.

Pity he wasn’t a Qi cultivator himself.

Without their leader, the remaining ghosts were swiftly slaughtered by the soldiers’ blades.

The black dog’s blood and battle formations proved overwhelming.

These unranked ghosts had no power to resist.

(Chapter End)