With a whoosh, the flames around me dissipated. I smiled, looking at the woman before me, writhing in agony. Cracks began to form on her skin, glowing faintly red from within.
A gaping hole appeared in the woman's chest. She moaned in pain, her cries piercing and mournful.
“No one can stop me, ah…”
Suddenly, the woman screamed. Black tears streamed from her eyes, thick as ink, slowly seeping into the gaping wound in her chest. The hole I had made began to heal, little by little.
I lay weakly atop the Desire Fiend’s head, my limbs powerless. My consciousness was on the verge of melting away.
A creaking sound echoed as I felt myself being grabbed—by the Desire Fiend. The woman’s twisted smile, her eyes hollow and dark, radiated a bottomless darkness.
With a furious roar, the Desire Fiend bellowed, as if channeling the woman’s will. The world spun before my eyes, then I plummeted rapidly toward the ground.
With a thud, dust billowed all around as I crashed to the ground.
“Is this the end?”
My mind went blank. All around me, ghosts with gaping mouths gathered, blackness closing in from every direction. Gradually, I shut my eyes. Old Ray rushed toward me, shouting my name.
Outside, everyone was anxious, and the villagers kept comforting the farmer who was about to become a father.
Inside, the woman's agonized screams of childbirth continued.
Finally, the newborn's wailing cry pierced the air.
"It's a boy! Congratulations!"
The door swung open, and the midwife emerged, cradling the infant.
Suddenly, I saw the black-faced ghost on the roof swoop down beside the crying baby. The infant's cries grew louder as the ghost reached out, its hand plunging into the child's body, then yanking out a white mass and swallowing it whole.
Instantly, I wanted to rush over, but my body was paralyzed. The black-faced ghost slipped into the infant's body, and the crying stopped abruptly.
The baby's eyes changed, turning vicious, but no one noticed—the black-faced ghost had completely possessed the child.
As the child grew, he became expressionless and violent, hiding in dark corners, never seeing sunlight.
Over time, every night, the child would secretly sneak out and skin and devour livestock alive. When he reached adulthood, livestock no longer satisfied him—he began eating people, gouging out hearts and swallowing them raw.
One by one, villagers disappeared. Eventually, it was the child's parents' turn. As he killed them, the child grinned with delight.
The scene gradually faded away.
"So, was that a human or a ghost?"
The golden-eyed ghost asked again. I stared blankly at him and answered in a murmur.
"A demon in human skin."
A burst of laughter echoed, and the scene shifted again. The black-faced ghost, now a young man, was living in luxury and wore official robes. He appeared refined, mingling with the powerful at court, showing no trace of his ghostly nature. During a famine, he even opened the granaries to feed the people under his jurisdiction.
"So this time, is he a human or a ghost?"
The golden-eyed ghost asked again. For a moment, I didn't know how to answer.
"Take a look at these next."
The scene shifted again—a grand mansion, gloomy even in broad daylight. A wealthy family stood at the door, restless and uneasy because their house was haunted.
On the first night after moving in, the family was so tormented by the ghost that they slept outside in the courtyard. This went on for months.
They hired monks and Taoist priests, but all were thrown out by the female ghost.
Finally, they found a skilled Maoshan priest. That night, he set up an altar and performed rituals. After a fierce battle, he trapped the female ghost in a talisman array.
"Begone, fiend! Leave this place at once!"
"No, Master, please, let the family move out. My child hasn't come home yet. I must wait here for him. The living scare him away. Please, have mercy, I'm begging you."
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The female ghost begged relentlessly, but the priest ignored her and began tormenting her. No matter how she pleaded, she was forced to leave. He found her urn of ashes and sent it far away to a mass grave, then left satisfied after collecting his fee.
In the mass grave, the female ghost was bullied daily by stronger, wild spirits, crying endlessly and unable to leave.
The scene slowly faded away.
"Let me ask you again—was that ghost a human, or a ghost?"
I replied in a low voice.
"She was just an ordinary mother longing for her child."
The golden-eyed ghost burst out laughing. The scene shifted again—the female ghost, now shrouded in black mist, had become a fierce spirit, devouring other ghosts in the mass grave.
With her newfound power, she returned home. In a single night, everyone in the mansion—over a hundred people, including livestock—died mysteriously.
The priest, upon hearing of the massacre, returned in grief and rage to fight the ghost. After a desperate battle, he destroyed her spirit, reducing her to ashes, but was mortally wounded himself. He died soon after, muttering about his duty to exorcise evil.
"So let me ask you again: the ghost killed people, yet you say she was just a mother waiting for her child. Was she human or ghost?"
I froze, staring blankly at the golden-eyed ghost. He stepped closer, emerging at the border of black and white, his face cold—and identical to mine.
"Zhang Qingyuan, I'll ask you one more time: what's the difference between humans and ghosts?"
"Didn't you say before? Humans are born from reincarnated spirits, and ghosts are formed when people die with unresolved grudges."
"No, that's completely wrong..."
The golden-eyed ghost stepped forward, and I saw the white part of the world slowly turning black. His icy hand clamped down on my shoulder.
"If two beings are identical in form, ability, and power—human and ghost—then tell me, who is king? Is it the human or the ghost? One becomes king, the other is just a stepping stone, fuel for the king's power. What's the true difference between them?"
I stared in disbelief at my golden-eyed self. He seemed agitated, his cold expression cracking to reveal a hint of pleasure.
"With equal power, to become king, you must relentlessly pursue strength, crave battle, and show no mercy to your enemies. The urge to tear them apart, the absolute hunger for power—it's etched deep within us, carved into the core of our being. It's called instinct."
I stared in shock, my shoulder still gripped by my golden-eyed self. Suddenly, the world twisted into a swirl of black and white, and he shoved me aside.
"You're missing it—the most fundamental instinct to become king. Tell me, what's your instinct?"
I quietly recalled everything from my past. Memories flashed before me like a lantern slide.
With a swish, my golden-eyed self drew a black longsword and advanced step by step.
"Answer me—what is your instinct?"
Suddenly, I felt something in my hand—a plain white longsword, over a meter long, its blade only a palm wide. It was exactly the same as the one I used against the Ghost Rakshasa.
With a sudden flash, my golden-eyed self appeared before me. I raised the white longsword, blocking his attack with a clang.
"Answer me—what is your instinct? What is the root of your despair?"
I stared at him in shock. My golden-eyed self raised the black longsword again and swung it at me.
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