Chapter Seventy-Six: The Flayer Restores His Former Glory

Chapter Seventy-Six: The Flayed Ghost Restores Its Power

Just like the mice of earlier years when they saw a cat, the female ghosts scattered in panic to both sides of the corridor, vanishing in the blink of an eye. The reason I say "earlier years" is because nowadays, mice are no longer afraid of cats; in fact, some cats are scared of mice. But in the old days, cats were not so timid. Back in the fifties and sixties, when the new China had just been founded, even people struggled to fill their stomachs, let alone animals—so for cats then, mice were the tastiest meal.

With a faint smile, he muttered, "Summoning these petty ghosts—aren't you just courting trouble?" Striding forward into the corridor, he was immediately assailed by a thick stench of blood as soon as he stepped in. Song Nianqiang couldn't help but frown, halting his steps.

A blood-drenched monstrosity appeared in the corridor. Looking closer, Song Nianqiang realized it was a flayed human—a person he recognized as the deceased. The nauseating scent of blood emanated from his body. "What are you doing here? Don't you realize your wife and child are in mortal danger, and might join you at any moment?"

Voice stern and face clouded with anger, Song Nianqiang shouted at the dead man. Upon hearing this, the blood-red eyes of the corpse flickered with confusion, but soon reverted to savagery. He mumbled something incoherent and then lunged at Song Nianqiang.

Each step left a bloody footprint, and these prints gathered, forming a sinister, demonic eye. Deep within the castle, the Flayed Ghost used this eye to observe Song Nianqiang and the dead man. Upon seeing himself and Song Nianqiang assigned to the same illusion, the Flayed Ghost revealed a cruel, twisted grin.

A blood-red tongue licked his crimson lips, and with those long nails, he scratched at empty air, his gaze filled with venom as he glared at Song Nianqiang, who was slowly retreating.

Song Nianqiang was not doing well at all. Though he knew the dead man before him was now a ghost, his conscience had not yet been drowned out. He wanted to know why the ghost sought out his wife and child—perhaps from his mouth, Song Nianqiang might glean a way to defeat the Flayed Ghost.

For now, Song Nianqiang only defended himself, backing away with every step. The Flayed Ghost, however, cared nothing for his retreat. The dead man was now under the Flayed Ghost’s control, with only one thought in his mind: to kill this human before him.

Every punch carried a spray of blood, driving Song Nianqiang to retreat further. The blood was highly corrosive—just a drop could strip away skin. Song Nianqiang found himself stifled and frustrated, his skills wasted with no opening to unleash them.

If he fought with lethal intent, he could finish off the ghost in just a few moves. The dead man’s spirit was weak, having died only recently—and more importantly, he died with guilt in his heart. Even as a ghost, his power was meager. But being killed by the Flayed Ghost, his blood now possessed a trace of corrosive power. Even so, he was no match for Song Nianqiang.

"Damn it! This is unbearable!" Song Nianqiang cursed as he found himself backed into a corner. Pressing his body against the wall, he pushed off hard with his right foot, leaping high into the air like a leopard and vaulting over the dead man's head. Only a few drops of the dead man’s blood marked the wall, the surface already beginning to corrode.

"Wake the hell up! For god’s sake, don’t you care about your wife and child?" This time, Song Nianqiang was truly desperate. He shouted with all his might, knowing that if this didn’t work, he would have no choice but to kill the ghost outright.

The mention of his wife and child made the ghost shudder involuntarily. The red faded swiftly from his eyes. "To kill the Flayed Ghost—you must...head..." He knew that Song Nianqiang was trapped in the Flayed Ghost’s illusion. He also knew that if the Flayed Ghost was not killed, his wife and child would die. So, with his last ounce of strength, he spat out half a sentence.

"Ah—!" Before he could finish, the ghost’s head suddenly swelled and exploded with a loud pop. Song Nianqiang was left baffled: did "head" mean his own, or the Flayed Ghost's?

It no longer mattered. Song Nianqiang surmised that the Hairy Ghost lurking in the corridor was the core of the illusion. If he destroyed that ghost, he could escape. He hurried forward, this time unimpeded, and strode into the corridor.

The corridor was impossibly long—up ahead stretched nothing but darkness. Candles sprouted from the walls, each casting a ghostly green glow, shrouding the passage in an eerie light. As he walked, Song Nianqiang felt a chill creeping up his spine.

"This place really is wicked," he muttered.

After walking a bit further, Song Nianqiang found himself inside a labyrinth. Countless branching paths appeared before, behind, and to either side, each leading into endless darkness. For a moment, Song Nianqiang truly felt lost.

"Heh—quite the trickster! All right, I’ll play along!" With that, he quickly recited the Evil-Breaking Incantation—a supporting spell from the Maoshan arts. It was perfectly suited for this moment. As the incantation took effect, the scene warped and, with a thunderous crack, shattered.

In the instant the illusion broke, the Hairy Ghost pounced onto Song Nianqiang’s back. Caught off guard, Song Nianqiang was thrown to the ground, but his prior training kicked in. Though the Hairy Ghost was heavy, Song Nianqiang was stronger; with effort, he rolled over and flung the ghost off his back.

Rolling on the ground, he swiftly cast the Five Thunder Spell. Five bolts of blue lightning appeared out of thin air. Because of their wide coverage, the Hairy Ghost couldn’t dodge and was struck instantly. Though the damage wasn’t severe, it bought Song Nianqiang enough time to get back on his feet.

A guttural, mournful wail issued from the Hairy Ghost’s mouth. Song Nianqiang, however, paid it no heed. With a mocking gesture, he crooked his finger at the Hairy Ghost, indifferent as to whether it understood.

As it turned out, the Hairy Ghost didn’t understand his taunt and remained rooted to the spot, leaving Song Nianqiang speechless. “If you won’t move, I will!” he shouted, forming hand seals and beginning to circle the ghost.

The Hairy Ghost continued its low moans, spinning in place. Perhaps the Five Thunder Spell had addled its senses, for it could no longer keep pace with Song Nianqiang’s circling. Soon, Song Nianqiang found his opening and swiftly cast the Immobilizing Spell, striking the Hairy Ghost as it spun.

This was the only way he could guarantee hitting the Hairy Ghost with the Samadhi True Fire. The ghost’s speed might be slow now, but who knew if it could dodge? Only by freezing it could he ensure a perfect strike.

Though the spell’s effect lasted just two seconds, that was enough for Song Nianqiang—one second to change his seals, the remaining second to unleash the Samadhi True Fire.

Three-colored flames burst from his hands once more. Without hesitation, he hurled them at the Hairy Ghost. Instantly, its wail rose in pitch, fangs lengthening and strength surging, but the Samadhi True Fire clung relentlessly, no matter how it thrashed.

Crackling and popping filled the air as the Hairy Ghost was reduced to a charred husk by the fire. Song Nianqiang intended to leave then, but was dismayed to find the illusion remained unchanged, prompting a deep frown.

Suddenly, the scene shifted again, and Song Nianqiang found himself back in the grand hall. His gaze narrowed sharply as he caught sight of the ghost clad in white seated at the head of the long table.