And then, a Taoist priest was found dead—his corpse gruesome, blood streaming from his seven orifices. The City Lord was furious, desperate to find monks and Taoist priests for help, yet fearful of encountering more frauds.
A wandering monk, upon hearing of the city's plight, arrived to investigate.
Despite the scorching summer, an unnatural chill pervaded the city. People fell ill for no reason, and those versed in the supernatural arts kept their distance from this cursed place.
Outside the city gates, I saw a monk with a tattered straw hat and ragged robes, yet his stride was unwavering—Master Leo Yuan.
Suddenly, Leo Yuan swept his hand, sending a strand of Sanctified Prayer Beads flying. With a crack, they struck empty air, followed by a wretched scream—the Blue Wraith tumbled to the ground, one hand melting away as viscous black fluid dripped onto the earth.
After arriving, Master Leo Yuan began to investigate the city, searching for the source of its affliction.
Suddenly, Leo Yuan’s expression changed. A burst of golden light flashed, crackling in the air—the Blue Wraith dissolved into a swirl of green mist and vanished.
After that night, many ghosts found themselves unable to leave Grimhill Cemetery. Some reported seeing Leo Yuan coming and going from the haunted grounds, and rumors began to spread throughout the city.
Rumors spread that Leo Yuan was a true Buddhist master who had subdued the evil spirits. When the City Lord heard, he immediately summoned Leo Yuan to the City Lord's Mansion.
Master Leo Yuan performed a Buddhist ritual. At that moment, a streak of green light flashed across the distant sky.
The war ended. Time flew by, and a city rose upon the battlefield. The nation that seized this vital pass enjoyed a brief era of prosperity.
But peace lasted only a few decades. Soon, neighboring countries, coveting the city, joined forces and attacked.
"Monk, if you've lived long enough, tonight I'll send you off to the Western Paradise."
Towns and villages sprang up around it, but the people here were marked by a strange phenomenon—they lived short lives. Some whispered that it was the lost souls of the dead who cursed this place.
Ghosts were only a small part of it. What truly plagued this land was the heavy concentration of Yin Energy, Deathbane Aura, and all sorts of malignant breaths—killing intent, resentment, sorrow—every dark and negative force gathered here.
Times changed, but as a strategic stronghold, this place was always fiercely contested, no matter the era.
I witnessed countless battles—humans fighting each other, and, over time, even ghosts joined in, seeking their share of the spoils.
Cities were built and destroyed, destroyed and rebuilt, over and over. With each cycle, the Yin Energy and Deathbane Aura here only deepened.
During rare periods of peace, the city flourished. The ruler, sensing the heavy malevolence, summoned The Taoist to perform rites for the dead and dispel the Yin and Deathbane Aura.
Once some effect was seen, the ruler, unwilling to pay for what seemed uncertain, drove The Taoist away.