For three days straight, neither Wraithshade nor Poison Dreadstar found any opportunity to glimpse what they sought.
Master, perhaps we should tell them that we've fulfilled Mr. Wraithshade's wish, so they can finally leave the mountain.
Elder Peach stared quietly at Elder Peter Pine, who stood before the row of sacred statues. His voice trembled with emotion—he owed his life to Wraithshade, who had saved him when all hope was lost.
My disciple, I know what’s on your mind. Mr. Wraithshade saved you, and in doing so, saved me as well. If you had died, I would have lost the strength to train another disciple. My own fate is nearly spent—less than five years remain for me.
Elder Peach’s eyes widened in astonishment.
But didn’t you say before...
Elder Peter Pine raised his hand, sighed helplessly, and then let it fall.
I’ve decided—I won’t extend my life any longer. If I do, I’ll only bring misfortune to my next life. I can’t break the limits of the Taoist path, can’t absorb heaven and earth’s essence to survive. All I care about now is passing down our sect’s legacy. Peach, your cultivation is far from enough. Let this be a lesson. Next time, measure your own strength before facing an evil spirit. That one has already broken through the bounds of a fierce ghost—it’s becoming a Soul-Taking Phantom.
Elder Peach lowered his head, sincerely listening to his master’s words.
I understand, Master. I was too impulsive this time. That evil spirit not only committed atrocities locally, but also colluded with wicked men, bringing disaster to the region. I had no choice but to act.
Elder Peter Pine nodded, his gaze drifting toward the doorway—Wraithshade and Poison Dreadstar were arriving.
"You two, I’m afraid our hospitality these past days has been lacking. The food and tea have been plain..."
"We don’t want to beat around the bush any longer."
Poison Dreadstar stepped inside, holding the Spirit Crystal aloft.
"Help us break the seal on this thing. We only want what’s inside. After all, our gentleman saved your precious disciple’s life."
"May I ask, sir, what exactly do you intend to do with the ghost inside?"
Elder Peter Pine respectfully addressed Wraithshade.
"The ghost’s behavior inside is quite unusual. I simply want to know what changes it has undergone after such a long period of sealing."
Mr. Wraithshade, your kindness is beyond repayment. I ask that you both leave tonight. As for the unsealing array—just absorb everything you’ve seen, and you’ll be able to do it.
Wraithshade raised a hand, interrupting Elder Peter Pine.
"Not necessarily. There’s always someone stronger out there. Daoist, just tell me how to break the seal inside—I only want to take a look. You don’t need to say anything else, just help us unseal the ghost within."
"Let me think it over for a while."
Elder Peter Pine spoke, and Wraithshade and the others left. In his mind, there was only one thought—he absolutely did not want to reveal the method of breaking the seal to Wraithshade. The very idea filled him with dread, rising from the depths of his heart.
"Master, since that gentleman has spoken so plainly, perhaps you should help him—just unseal the ghost inside so he can leave..."
"Disciple, that gentleman has likely lived for over a hundred years, already transcending the cycle of heaven’s law. That’s why I cannot see through him—and that is what’s truly frightening. Our sect’s techniques, back when I was young, were despised by both Buddhist and Daoist schools, deemed heretical. There’s indeed something uncanny about them, and that’s a fact we cannot change. But that gentleman is probably even more uncanny than we are. With his skill, just watching the unsealing once would be enough for him to uncover the secrets of our Mount Mason Order."
But two days passed, and though Elder Peter Pine said he was considering it, he had no intention of telling them anything. Wraithshade and Poison Dreadstar could see this clearly.
"We should just use force, sir. That guy really doesn’t know what’s good for him."
Wraithshade shook his head.
"Using force may not work. In the worst case, he’d destroy everything to protect the sect’s forbidden secrets. As I’ve told you before, those with faith are never to be underestimated."
Poison Dreadstar sighed helplessly.
"This place is so boring, and we eat vegetarian food every day. I can hardly stand it anymore."
"Bear with it a little longer. There will be a way."
Late at night, when all was quiet, Elder Peach came to Wraithshade’s doorway, holding his Peachwood Blade. He began to recite a ritual formula, then swung his sword and stepped forward to practice.
Inside, Wraithshade watched quietly. He couldn’t help but find the footwork and hand seals exquisite—though the power released was weak, it was likely because the practitioner was still too frail.
Every night after that, Elder Peach would wait until his master was asleep and practice swordplay outside Wraithshade’s room. He truly wanted to repay his savior, so he demonstrated only the sect’s foundational techniques, showing them bit by bit to Wraithshade.
"So that’s how it is. The kid seems really grateful to you, sir."
Wraithshade quietly watched Elder Peach moving under the moonlight outside the window. In just three days, he had learned the basics of the Mount Mason Order’s techniques and hand seals. He tried them himself, but they had no real effect—he lacked any faith in Buddhism or Daoism.
With a creak, Wraithshade stepped outside. He had already learned all the basics. Elder Peach pulled out a book, tore out a page, and handed it to Wraithshade.
"Mr. Victor Shade, I have no way to repay your great kindness. Please, both of you, leave tonight. As for the unsealing array, you only need to integrate everything you’ve seen—then you’ll be able to do it."
Wraithshade nodded, and Elder Peach quickly left.
In a secluded spot in the mountains, Wraithshade held the torn page and finished drawing the array, placing the Spirit Crystal within.
"The moonlight is pretty bright tonight."
Poison Dreadstar sat nearby, bored.
"That kid’s master will probably find out tomorrow. What a shame."
After setting up the array, Wraithshade began forming hand seals, then strode quickly through the array. Soon, it began to glow silver—it was working.
Of all the techniques Elder Peach demonstrated, Wraithshade was most interested in the method for sealing ghosts. It was more refined than the spells he’d used before and hardly harmed the ghost at all. He treated it as a treasure, his eyes full of excitement.
"Did you think of something new again?"
Poison Dreadstar leaned comfortably against a pine tree. The Spirit Crystal in the center of the array was slowly dissolving.
"You try to subdue this ghost."
As Wraithshade spoke, his footsteps grew even quicker.
Suddenly, a stream of red energy burst forth, accompanied by a tremendous wailing. Instantly, wild winds swept through the forest. Wraithshade drifted up to a tree, while Poison Dreadstar stood, drawing a vivid green whip from her waist. A ferocious red-clad female ghost appeared and lunged at Ghost Fiend Star, who immediately lashed her whip, ensnaring the ghost.
The female ghost wailed, but quickly broke free and lunged at Poison Dreadstar. Smiling faintly, she raised a hand and, with a whoosh, blew out shimmering green motes of light. The moment the woman touched them, she was paralyzed.
"How is it, already..."
Before she could finish, Poison Dreadstar’s eyes widened—a hand with crimson nails stabbed from behind her. With a snap, Wraithshade grabbed the ghost’s hand, fixing his gaze on her, his eyes glowing with a deep black light.
"Quiet."
With that single word, the ghost stopped wailing, trembling violently. She curled up, hugging her knees, and sat on the ground, not daring to look at Wraithshade.
"So her body can manifest physically. I didn’t even notice—she’s just a fierce ghost, after all."
"That’s why I said this ghost is special. Tonight’s harvest has been pretty good. When we get back, I’ll make some improvements and create a new spell. Let’s go."
Meanwhile, a hundred miles away in Zou County, something major happened. Princess Irene fled under the moonlight, driven by the approaching wedding.
Early the next morning, Poison Dreadstar eagerly found an inn and ordered plenty of food. She planned to rest for a few days before leaving, but now she pulled a small red string from her pocket, staring at it in confusion.
"What’s wrong?"
Wraithshade, about to head upstairs, asked. Poison Dreadstar gave a mysterious smile and shook her head.
"It’s nothing, Mr. Victor Shade."
The red string was made from a small part of Poison Dreadstar’s own soul, linking her to the ghosts she could control. Now, that ghost told her Princess Irene was coming to find them, led by him.
"Having a companion on the road isn’t bad."
Poison Dreadstar giggled. She actually got along quite well with the young girl—after all, traveling with someone as wooden as Wraithshade was a bit dull.
Once Wraithshade reached his room, he found a dark corner and leaned quietly. Suddenly, everything around him fell completely still.
"Ethan Zhang, sometimes life is like this—even if you don’t make a choice, you’re still forced to bear the options others impose on you."
"What do you mean?"
I stared quietly at Wraithshade. He smiled and shook his head.
"Haven’t you realized yet? In that darkness, why did Elder Peach keep using his soul to ask me questions? It was all because of a youthful impulse that led to the Ghost Mound."
I swallowed, my eyes wide with surprise. Thinking carefully about Wraithshade’s spells—they were special, but some parts resembled the Mount Mason Order’s techniques, especially the hand seals.
"It was that impulsive act that let me surpass my limits and carry countless ghosts, making myself nearly immortal. But unfortunately, there are beings in this world even closer to immortality than I am. So I lost—to Yuna Ji. Fate really does play tricks: it opens a door for you, then suddenly pushes you off a cliff. Don’t you think so?"