There were still eight hours left until the Jialan Ceremony began. I sat quietly against the sand wall, clutching my phone, watching the time tick by. The screen showed that it would be over ten more hours before the weapons arrived.
Allen Zhang hadn’t said anything, but I knew he had a way to stop Mr. Oblivion and Ms. Genesis from interfering—he’d buy me enough time. By now, I had figured out how to break Brother Owen’s Ghostworm power: only a stronger curse power could destroy it. I couldn’t do it yet, but for now, this was enough.
During this day or so, I’d tried many times. I could easily kill the worms inside the bodies of these ghosts, but I didn’t do it—doing so would expose me immediately.
Master Swallow once said that curse power was special. Out of hundreds of Blue Wraiths, there might not be even one with it. Ghosts who wield curse power are weak; most are taken by practitioners as materials for their own cultivation before they ever grow strong.
Curse power has existed since ancient times, taking many forms. Sometimes, people suddenly fall ill and die, generation after generation, always at the same age—Master Swallow had witnessed such things.
Once, while traveling, Master Swallow met a woman at a market whose family was cursed: every man who fathered a child would go mad, without exception. Their once-rich family fell into ruin, and she lived a hard life, caring for her insane brother and infant nephew. Every woman who gave birth died soon after.
Finding it suspicious, Master Swallow investigated and eventually dug up a skeleton beneath the threshold of their ancestral home. It was sealed with a talisman and a curse. After much effort, he broke the spell, and the family’s madness was finally lifted.
Generally, casting a curse requires a medium. The caster exchanges part of themselves for curse power, channeling it through bones or other special things—worms, for example. The cursed person suffers nothing at first, but disaster creeps in over time.
Ghosts are the source of curse power. Such ghosts are not hard to obtain: if someone dies with deep hatred and curses their enemy, they often gain curse power after death. But these ghosts are weak in ghost aura, even weaker than ordinary ghosts.
The resentment and hatred these ghosts carry are valuable to other ghosts, like supplements to humans. If not taken by practitioners, they’re devoured by their own kind.
Once these ghosts grow and break through the boundaries of a Wraith to become Blue Wraiths, they become extremely troublesome. Curse power is multifaceted, changing with the practitioner’s techniques. Only truly sacred powers can counter curse power.
The Power of the Four Sacred Beasts, Buddhist power, and Daoist power can all dispel curse power, but it depends on the practitioner’s strength and the complexity of their techniques. If curse power isn’t completely cleansed, it will revive and return.
Now the Curse Ghost had lent me her power. Though weak, it lingered in my body. The only change was that I could directly sense the curse power clinging to these ghosts, transformed into those white worms—I could feel them clearly.
Master Swallow was still unconscious, his power blocked and unable to flow or recover. We didn’t know the reason, and even if we did, as ghosts, we couldn’t help him.
At that moment, Allen Zhang stood up, a wild, arrogant smile on his face.
"I’m heading out first, Ethan. At most, I can hold off Mr. Oblivion and Ms. Genesis for six hours—that’s my limit. You need to act fast. Once you’ve rescued who you came for, get ready to run. Heh."
I looked at him gratefully and nodded.
"Sorry for the trouble this time. When we get back... I'll buy you a drink."
I said, and Allen Zhang nodded.
"Just don’t hesitate. If you do, you’ll die."
Before leaving, Allen Zhang spoke solemnly.
After Allen Zhang left, I waited quietly, watching the time on my phone. One hand pressed against my forehead; for some reason, I felt nervous. Everything that was about to happen was unknown.
I thought of two years ago, when I could do nothing but watch everything unfold, powerless.
At that moment, I felt six hands gently rest on my shoulders. I slowly stood up, pulled up my hood, put on my veil, and glanced once more at Master Swallow before floating away.
"Wait, Ethan."
Master Swallow suddenly called out. I turned to look at him.
"If you ever get the chance to kill my master, you..."
"Yeah, I will. Because he took away the most important thing from me."
Clenching my fists, I turned away and, with a whoosh, floated out, returning to the ground. By now, all the ghosts had emerged, gathering at the mountaintop.
The Jialan Ceremony was about to begin. The ghosts were restless, their faces full of anticipation and dread.
I mingled with the crowd, moving toward the Jialan Lotus Seat at the center of the mountaintop. Brother Owen’s Eight Disciples were already in place, standing solemnly around the seat.
I found a spot at the edge of the crowd and waited. The ghosts around me whispered, their voices filled with fear and excitement.
Suddenly, a blue light flashed at the center of the seat. Brother Owen appeared, his robe swirling, face hidden in shadow. The crowd fell silent.
Brother Owen raised his hand. The Jialan Lotus Seat glowed, and the air trembled. The ceremony was about to begin.
One by one, ghosts stepped forward, bowing to Brother Owen and taking their places around the seat. Each ghost’s face was pale, eyes full of fear and longing.
Brother Owen began to chant, his voice echoing across the mountaintop. The ghosts trembled, some kneeling, some clutching their heads in pain.
Suddenly, the seat erupted in white light. Ghostworms burst from the bodies of several ghosts, writhing and hissing.
Brother Owen’s Eight Disciples stepped forward, each holding a talisman. They pressed the talismans to the ghosts’ foreheads, sealing the Ghostworms inside.
The ghosts wailed in agony. I could feel the curse power pulsing within them, struggling to break free.
I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to intervene. If I acted now, I’d be exposed.
Brother Owen finished chanting. The seat dimmed, and the crowd began to disperse.
I slipped away, blending into the shadows. My heart pounded as I made my way toward the exit.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder. I spun around, ready to fight.
It was Holly Hao, a cunning Blue Wraith operative in Jialan City. She whispered, "Don’t act yet. The real ceremony hasn’t started."
I stared at her, uncertain. Holly Hao’s eyes glimmered with secrets.
She leaned in close, her voice barely audible: "Tonight, the real target isn’t the ghosts—it’s you. Be careful."
My heart skipped a beat. Before I could respond, Holly Hao vanished into the crowd.
I stood alone, surrounded by restless ghosts, waiting for the true ceremony to begin.
The darkness deepened. The mountaintop was silent, except for the sound of my own heartbeat.