Chronicles of the Saint Sovereign of Past-Life Red_【5】CultivatigBuddistArts,StrikigDowteEvilofteGostPa 首页

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   【5】CultivatigBuddistArts,StrikigDowteEvilofteGostPa (第2/2页)

.Aswordformedbymeritenergywassharperthanawoodehoughstilbittooweak.Evenamid-stageQiRefiningcultivatorcouldbreakit,soIoincreasemyprofidbuildmoremerit.

    Andthere’sonlyooear—doinggooddeeds.

    SoIasked,“Isthereataskthatgrantsalotofmerit?”

    Shecheckedthemissionlist.

    “Asamatteroffact,there’soneperfectforyou—syinganevilspirit.Likezombies,they’realsospawnedfromreseanddarkenergy.”

    Ghosts—remnantsofsapientbeingsthathavedied.Somearebenevolent,somemalevolent.TheirstrengthrangesfromStage1to9,correspondingtotheninemajorcultivationrealms,fromQiRefiningtoGreatAssion.TherearealsoWanderingSouls—weaker,harmlessentitieswithoutcultivation.

    ThismissietedaStage-2EvilSpirit.Itsoundedeasyenoughatfirst…untilIgotthere.

    “WhythehellisitStage2peak!?”Ishoutedindisbelief,staringattheghostfiftymetersahead.

    Iexpectedearlyormid-stage,maybete-stageatworst—butpeak?

    Tootetopin.Onlybychallengingstrrow.

    Itriedtotakeitbysurprise,suppressingmyauraasIapproached.Maybeitdidn’tknowIcouldseeit,ormaybeitthoughtIwastoughtodealwith—itjustsme.

    Itsfacewashorrifying—crackedopenwoundsrevealingbosmouthtorntotheearswithjaggedteethexposed,twincrimsonghost-firesburninginitshollowsockets.Itlookedexactlylikeademonthathadjustcrawledoutofhell,radiatinganicymalevolechilledmyspine.

    Icouldn’ttakeitanymore.Fearsurgedthroughme—ifIdidn’tmovenow,I’dcolpsefromdread.

    “VajraTeique—se!”

    Justintime.Myblowstruckbeforeitcouldreajuringitbadly.Theghosthowled,thenfled.

    “Hey!Coward!”Ishouted,thensprierit.

    ButitfloatedwhileIran.Anditwasahigherrealmthanme—Icouldn’tcatchup.Ieragittoitsir,dehghostlyenergy.

    Suddenly,aswarmofghostsemerged—itwaslikeagangbinghisthugs.Luckily,theywereallStage-1,andIcouldhahemwithease.

    Themissionhadnowshiftedfrom“SytheEvilSpirit”tetheGhost.”

    Sesfromolddramasfshedinmymind—righteouscultivatorswieldingpeachwoodswordsandtalismanstoexorciseevil.Now,thecetodoitforrealwashere—andIwasn’tabouttowasteit.

    Twohourster,Icolpsedheghostden,exhaustedandpanting.EveryhostileStage-1ghostawoStage-2ghostsinsidehadbeenannihited.

    Idon’tlikeunnecessarykilling.Ratherthansyingalldemonsandghostsunderheaven,Iprefercoexistence.Aslongastheydon’tharmothers,I’llsparethem.

    But“he”isdifferent.He—myotherself—seesthingsinanht:

    Theweakhavenhttosurvive.

    Beforemyqirandry,hehadmestrikinglikeaingboxer,relentlesslyhammeringghostswithVajraFistuntilonlyfiveorsixharmlesswanderingsoulsremained.

    Byelydrained.Iforcedmyselftomovetoanearbyrockbathedinsunlight.Withoutthatlighttowardofftheyinenergy,Iwouldn’thaverecovered.

    Tenhoursofrestter,Iwasfullyrestored.IthrewaofVajraFistintotheair—thenfinally,dustyandweary,mademywaybacktothetrainingchamber.

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