Chapter Eighty-Nine: Mountain Spirit

“I want to learn sorcery, no matter the price,” Xie Han said, his gaze unwavering.

The Taoist in black stepped out of the room. His shadow stretched long across the ground and swallowed Xie Han’s body, creating an overwhelming sense of oppression.

“You truly mean you’re willing to pay any price?”

“Yes.” Xie Han nodded without the slightest hesitation. “Besides, once I have power, it will be more convenient for me to help you with things, Daoist sir.”

The Taoist in black said nothing.

The atmosphere grew heavy. Both men fell silent, broken only by Xie Han’s labored breathing.

After a long while, a cold snort shattered the still air.

“You think yourself so important? Willing to pay any price, are you? Go back, wash up, and go to sleep.”

Bang!

The door slammed shut, leaving Xie Han standing there in confusion.

Lu Qian returned to his room and resumed his cross-legged meditation, a faint smile on his lips.

What this boy wanted was not power, but face, respect, and a breath of pride.

As long as others looked at him in a new light and fawned over him like a ring of stars around the moon, he would immediately revert to form.

Too naive. With Xie Han’s present state of mind, he probably would not survive the agony of fusing with bloodline power.

“It will be soon enough,” Lu Qian murmured with a cryptic smile.

In a little while, a ruthless demon would appear in this world.

And step by step, he would lead that man into the abyss.

Such a method of manipulating the human heart was chilling to the bone.

During his confinement, Xie Han thought about many things and repeatedly sought an audience with Lu Qian.

Each time, he was turned away at the door.

After his injuries healed, he could no longer suppress the restlessness in his heart and revealed his innate cultivation.

With Lu Qian’s permission, he even offered the Hundred-Step Flying Sword technique to the family.

In an instant, this illegitimate son became the center of the clan. His name gradually spread through the martial world, and he was hailed as a rising star of the new generation.

The feeling of being adored and surrounded by all the attention of the world intoxicated Xie Han.

The patriarch’s changed attitude, the servants’ deference, the praise from those around him—all of it made him forget the desire for power he had once vowed so fervently to pursue.

Of course, he remained respectful toward Lu Qian, never skimping on medicinal herbs and all manner of materials.

Night fell.

Moonlight slipped through the window and poured over the room.

Lu Qian held a dark banner more than ten feet long in his hand.

Ancient and austere, the banner was painted in blood-red cinnabar and black markings with all kinds of vicious ghosts. Dark spiritual light flickered across its surface.

The moment he took it up, a faint repelling force rose from within, as though the specters on the banner were trying to break free.

“Hmph. Even in death you won’t behave.”

He sent forth the power of true water in his hand, and the cleansing force instantly washed away the mark left by Li Mingyou.

Then true water circulated within it once more, leaving behind Lu Qian’s own magical imprint.

A flash of black light passed.

At once, the magical artifact felt intimately linked to him, as though blood and flesh were one.

Black mist billowed from the banner, and on its surface stood two hundred tiny, ant-sized evil ghosts, each with a pale face and a ferocious expression.

“Greetings, Master!”

“So many ghosts. If I were to devour and refine them all...” Lu Qian thought, and killing intent unconsciously surfaced in his eyes.

The fierce murderous aura made the ghosts’ spirit forms sway.

“Master, spare us!”

“Master, spare us! We can do plenty of work!”

“Forget it. I’ll let you live for now.”

Perhaps they might prove useful someday.

With that, he put away the Soul-Forming Yin Banner and resumed his meditation.

Several days later, Lu Qian was still seated in meditation, motionless.

Though his body remained in cultivation, his mind had already drifted far away.

In a dark and secluded forest, Lu Qian’s face pale as paper suddenly appeared.

The night was bleak and cold, and a thick fog was rising.

The shadows of tree branches lay across the ground; when the wind swept through, those shadows writhed like demons with claws and fangs bared.

This place was eerie and desolate, a land where ghosts and strange things easily took form.

In this world full of bizarre tales and supernatural oddities, immortals were rare, while monsters and exotic beasts were common enough. Nearly every region had its own uncanny legends.

Many of them could not even be called demons, most being merely unusual beasts.

Lu Qian seemed to sense something. His figure flashed, and he hid behind a large blue stone.

A short while later, what arrived was not a person.

It was something humanoid.

About three or four feet tall, covered all over in yellow fur, with black pupils and only one leg.

Its skin was very dark, black as charcoal.

The creature was immensely strong; every time it hopped down, it left a crater in the ground.

“So this is the mountain sprite the hunters mentioned?” Lu Qian thought to himself.

There are no such things as coincidence in this world. He had come here only after hearing nearby hunters speak of someone encountering a mountain sprite.

The mountain sprite hopped to the stream bank, gulped down water with loud gulps, then pulled a crab from a hole and ate it raw.

From the Strange Garden, volume three: “A mountain sprite resembles a man, has one leg, stands three to four feet tall, eats mountain crabs, breathes fire from its mouth, and emerges at night, hiding by day.”

Swoosh!

A three-foot green gleam, fierce as yin fire.

The air was torn apart with a shrill scream.

A ferocious killing aura stabbed straight into his back.

Clang!

The Yin-Talisman Sword struck the mountain sprite’s back with the sound of metal against metal.

Sparks flew everywhere. The long sword was rebounded and failed to pierce the creature’s defense, leaving only a faint charred mark.

“Hm?” Lu Qian was somewhat surprised.

This little beast had quite a thick hide. The book never mentioned that. It seems one cannot trust books entirely.

“Roar!”

The mountain sprite cried out in pain, turned around, and bellowed at Lu Qian with a twisted face. Then it opened its mouth and spat forth a fire dragon more than six feet long.

Lu Qian sidestepped and dodged. The stone behind him was burned into a hole.

The mountain sprite had great strength, thick skin, and could breathe fire.

That was all.

Pshh!

The green gleam pierced the mountain sprite’s eye and drove deep into its brain.

Thud!

The corpse fell to the ground, struggled briefly, and then went still.