It was the Vermilion Mantle. I looked inside my body and saw myself wrapped in crimson flames—fiery feathers one by one—and my hands had already morphed into twin Vermilion Bird claws. Three plumes drifted at my waist. This was my first time truly wielding the Vermilion Mantle with the power of Second Phoenix Rebirth.
Just then, gusts of black wind began sweeping through the Old City. The ground rumbled beneath us. The Yin Ghost howled in anguish, the sound deafening. All around, the black winds grew wild, swirling toward us.
Before those black winds even reached me, the flames on my body were gradually snuffed out. Things looked grim—I was no match for the Yin Ghost. At that moment, she fully became a figure of flowing wind, crawling on the ground, her eyes filled with hatred as she stared at me.
"So, you can understand human speech now, right? How about we talk for a bit?"
"What do we do now?"
The flames on my body had already been extinguished by the sudden surge of overwhelming Yin Energy. John Chou stood in the raging wind, stepped up to me, and pointed at me.
"Brother, we have to reforge Rage Blood as soon as possible. We can't keep going like this."
I ate all my rations and drank some water, but I was still hungry. I just wanted to go back and have a real meal. The food here was expensive, but tasted great—and wherever Poison Dreadstar took us, everything was free, and always the best.
"Do you know how many years a human lives?"
John Chou asked, but the Yin Ghost was still intent on destroying us.
In an instant, the wind died down. The overwhelming Yin Energy in the area vanished without a trace.
The Yin Ghost started laughing—a sickly, twisted sound that sent chills crawling up my skin.
"A hundred years? That's far too short, isn't it, Zhang Qingyuan? How about two hundred? Heh..."
As the Yin Ghost spoke, she came right up to me. A wave of cold washed over me as she grabbed my hand, making me shiver. She leaned in close, revealing teeth just like mine—I couldn't help but tremble.
"What do you think I am? I'm human—at best, I've only got a few decades left."
As I said this, the Yin Ghost let out another piercing laugh. I quickly shook off her hand, and John Chou crouched beside me.
"You know how to ignite the Yin Fire Bloodbane Furnace, don't you? That's why I'm here."
"Of course I do. But I won't tell you."
I quickly backed away a few steps. Even wearing the clothes Poison Dreadstar gave me, I couldn't withstand the Yin Ghost's aura.
"Is there no other way?"
I asked, and the Yin Ghost smiled.
"Not long ago, someone came here—a formidable one. Maybe he left something behind, right here in this city."
John Chou's eyes lit up with excitement and he asked quietly,
"Was it someone wearing an iron mask?"
The Yin Ghost nodded. Ironmask? I stared at her in surprise.
"That guy carried a force that could destroy everything—terrifying. He came here for the sword forging, too."
John Chou immediately soared into the air. Crimson ghost threads spread outward, covering the sky in an instant as he searched. The Yin Ghost continued walking toward me.
"You miss it, don't you? As a ghost, Zhang Qingyuan, you possess such immense power, yet refuse to use it."
I quickly backed away a few steps. Even wearing the clothes Poison Deathstar gave me, I couldn't withstand the Yin Ghost's aura.
"So, what exactly do you want me to help you with?"
The Yin Ghost laughed—a sound that still sent chills down my spine.
"As a human, you'll never understand. Telling you is pointless. I just want you dead, Zhang Qingyuan. Once you die, you'll understand."
Just then, John Chou retracted the ghost threads and flew toward the west side of the city. Soon, he returned, carrying a bundle of black sticks. I sensed that these stick-like objects were made of condensed Deathbane Aura, and their quality was extremely high.
"Ah, that's it. Put them in the furnace."
John Chou tossed the bundle of black Deathbane sticks into the furnace. Instantly, with a loud crash, the furnace smashed through its bottom plate, and cracks appeared all around.
It looked heavy. I stared in awe at those black Deathbane sticks—these were condensed by Ironmask. John Chou laughed heartily.
"That guy was smarter than you, brother—way better than you."
I let out a confused sound, not sure why John Chou said that.
The Yin Ghost walked up to the furnace, extended her hand, and black winds blew into it, swirling around the Deathbane sticks. Soon, black smoke billowed out, and flames sprang up inside.
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John Chou raised his hand, and Rage Blood appeared in his grasp. He tossed Rage Blood into the furnace, then sliced open his palm with a sharp motion. Drops of fresh blood flew into the fire.
"This will take a while, brother. Just be patient."
I let out a sound of surprise, watching black flames flicker in the furnace. This fire wasn't like Redhair's Cursefire. From a distance, Cursefire looked like flames, but up close, it was something else—a shape of power more than true fire.
A chill seeped out. John Chou told me this was Yin Fire—the most extreme form of Yin. Gradually, the black flames surged higher in the furnace, but the fire itself struggled to burn.
"Feels pretty good, John Chou. You finally did something nice for me, damn it."
It was Rage Blood. It spoke. I stared in shock at the weapon, now wrapped in black flames inside the furnace, turning a deep crimson, vividly visible.
"Not enough blood. Isn't Zhang Qingyuan here? Let him give some."
Rage Blood grumbled, and John Chou grinned at me.
"Brother, give us a hand."
By now, John Chou had withdrawn his hand. I had to step forward. With a swish, the Yin Ghost used a blade of black wind to slice open my palm. Blood flowed from my hand, flying into the furnace.
"Is that enough?"
My head was starting to feel light—I was showing signs of blood loss.
"Alright, that's enough."
Rage Blood spoke, and I quickly pulled my hand away.
"Step back. Otherwise, your Yang Fire won't ignite, brother."
Following John Chou's advice, I moved twenty meters away from the furnace. Once my palm healed, I sat down, exhausted and drenched in sweat.
I ate all my rations and drank some water, but I was still hungry. I just wanted to go back and have a real meal. The food here was expensive, but tasted great—and wherever Poison Deathstar took us, everything was free, and always the best.
Watching the flames in the furnace, I looked around, found a spot, took off my bamboo hat and used it as a pillow. I lay down, deciding to rest for a while—I was truly exhausted.
Staring at the slowly flickering gray flames, I gradually closed my eyes and fell asleep.
"How does it feel to be human, Zhang Qingyuan?"
Suddenly, I jolted awake. I looked around—the Old City was still there, and before me stood Ironmask, his crimson eyes fixed on me.
"How did you get here?"
I stared at him in shock.
"Look around you."
I made a sound of surprise and looked at the Old City around us. Ironmask and I were standing in front of the palace, just like when I came here with Hu Tianshuo before. Everything was intact—John Chou and the Yin Ghost were nowhere to be seen.
"Is this a dream?"
Ironmask nodded.
"Zhang Qingyuan, answer my question from earlier."
I got up, stretched, and smiled.
"It's not bad, I guess."
"I'm glad you think so. Accept it—this is a gift from Zhang Wuju. Remember this: as long as you remain human, if you ever break that boundary, you can never return to being human again."
I made a confused sound, not understanding what Ironmask was trying to tell me.
"What are you doing right now?"
Suddenly, Ironmask leaned in close, his voice low and heavy.
"I've been waiting for you, Zhang Qingyuan. I've always been waiting, but you're so slow. I'm running out of patience."
I woke up, rubbing my sore eyes. I looked—John Chou was still beside the furnace, and the Yin Ghost drifted nearby, occasionally sending gusts of Yin wind into the flames.
"It's about time to infuse the ghost energy."