Chapter 67: Disciple and Wife
The courtyard, crushed under the weight of the dead spider demon, was no longer habitable. The group found another room within the same estate, however.
The spider demon’s lingering aura, permeating its former territory, served as a deterrent against the Thousand-Thread Gu, making it safer than venturing outside.
After settling their injured companion, Pang Xueting approached Tao Ning. “Savior, what brings you to Shadow City?”
Tao Ning offered her usual explanation. “A training mission from my master. Slaying demons and exorcising ghosts.”
520, having heard this countless times, cringed internally.
Pang Xueting, however, looked at her with admiration. “As expected of my savior! I’ve always aspired to follow in your footsteps. I intended to thank you properly after reaching Golden Core, but fate has brought us together again.”
Tu Shimei, one of Pang Xueting’s junior sisters, muttered, …A fate I’d rather avoid.
Pang Xueting, still basking in the unexpected reunion, oblivious to her junior sister’s comment, continued, eager to share her accomplishments. “After you encouraged me to seek refuge in a sect, I joined the Heavenly Heart Sect. I’m now a Talisman Cultivator, studying under True Person Chang Xiang.”
Tao Ning: “True Person Chang Xiang? I encountered a Heavenly Heart Sect disciple claiming to be her student earlier.”
Pang Xueting’s eyes widened. “Where is he?”
Another junior sister spoke up. “Senior Brother Qiu? But wasn’t he… consumed by the white bugs…?”
Tao Ning, sitting on a three-legged stool with a broken leg, shook her head regretfully. They already knew the answer, but hearing it confirmed still brought a pang of sadness.
Pang Xueting, composing herself, said, “Thank you for telling us, Savior.”
Tao Ning shook her head. “No need to call me Savior. My name is Tao Ning. I don’t have a title yet.”
Pang Xueting, adapting quickly, addressed her as “Senior Tao.”
Calling her “fellow cultivator” would be disrespectful. “Senior” was more appropriate.
They were all Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, mostly inner sect judging by their robes and swords, their cultivation levels ranging from Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment, Pang Xueting, at peak Foundation Establishment, the highest among them.
It seemed the entire next generation of the Heavenly Heart Sect was here, along with a few pampered children laden with protective artifacts.
Curious about the mysterious cultivator who had appeared so suddenly, they whispered among themselves, pulling Pang Xueting aside for a private conversation.
Moments later, Tao Ning was surrounded by a group of wide-eyed youngsters, their gazes filled with the same admiration as Pang Xueting’s.
Tao Ning: “…”
To avoid further small talk, she spoke before they could bombard her with questions. “This place is difficult to find. How did you all get in?”
The youngsters, still buzzing with Pang Xueting’s story, exchanged uneasy glances.
A boy covered in protective talismans said, “We were chasing a spirit beast. It wasn’t like this before. Everything changed after nightfall.”
Several others, their clothes more elaborate, nodded in agreement.
A disciple in standard uniform spoke up. “We were hired to find a missing young lady, kidnapped from her family. We followed the kidnappers.”
A female cultivator added, “Then, just like they said, the living became the dead, the food turned into white bugs, and Senior Brother Qiu… he ran out of Fasting Pills, so…”
“Those weren’t ordinary bugs. Those were Thousand-Thread Gu,” Tao Ning corrected. “You’re all from the Heavenly Heart Sect, but you didn’t arrive together?”
They nodded in unison. “Yes, we’re all from the Heavenly Heart Sect.”
Tao Ning: “How long have you been here?”
Pang Xueting, the most senior among them, was about to explain when a roar echoed from outside, the sound neither human nor beast, sending shivers down their spines.
Tu Shimei exclaimed, “They’re back! Put out the fire!”
They scrambled to their feet, their voices filled with urgency. “Hurry! Put out the fire! Don’t let them in!”
“Is it night already?” one wailed. “Will I ever see my parents again?”
“My master is in seclusion. She won’t notice I’m gone. I should have listened to her and stayed put.”
Tao Ning, recognizing the sentiment, chuckled softly. “My master won’t notice I’m gone either.”
Pang Xueting, confused, tilted her head. “Senior Tao?”
Tao Ning gestured towards the others frantically extinguishing the fire. “Why are you putting out the fire?”
Pang Xueting explained, “The Thousand-Thread Gu are afraid of fire. We light fires during the day to keep them away. But at night, the walking corpses emerge. They can’t see, but they can sense our breath and body heat. Fire attracts them. And there are too many to kill.”
The entire city’s population had been turned into walking corpses. They outnumbered the living, filling the streets at night.
They were, after all, still young and inexperienced, easily frightened by nightly visits from the undead and the constant threat of corpse poison.
Tao Ning nodded, then tilted her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. “So they’re all out now? Because it’s night?”
Pang Xueting: “Yes. They emerge at night. And the Thousand-Thread Gu use the darkness as cover.”
The two threats coexisted, sometimes even cooperating.
Like now.
A loud crash, and a swarm of Thousand-Thread Gu poured through the broken windows, revealing the terrified faces of those inside.
The walking corpses, drawn by the scent of living flesh, converged on the house, their distorted shadows flickering on the walls.
“They’re here again!”
With the spider demon gone, its lingering aura no longer a deterrent, the city’s amplified resentment fueled the Gu, driving them towards the living.
Tao Ning: “Do you know if they’re acting on their own, or are they being controlled?”
Pang Xueting stared at her, confused.
A young man spoke up, his voice filled with suspicion. “What do you mean? Is someone deliberately targeting us?”
The boy covered in talismans, surnamed Zhuang, was the Grand Elder’s son, a pampered and protected child.
Tao Ning waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. The outcome is the same. Stay here. Don’t wander off.”
She jumped through the broken window.
Pang Xueting called after her, “Senior Tao…!”
A flash of light, a surge of spiritual energy, then several thuds. Something rolled across the floor. The clawing hands at the door paused, then moved towards the sound.
The disciples inside exchanged glances, then rushed to the window, peering out cautiously, afraid to venture beyond the relative safety of the house.
Under the pale moonlight, a figure soared across the rooftops, their movements graceful and swift, like a celestial being.
She looked down, her hair swirling around her, her eyes, reflecting the chaos below, calm and unwavering.
Mindless corpses didn’t require her full attention. Standing on the roof, she controlled Poheng, slicing through the grasping hands reaching for her.
From her vantage point, the highest roof in the estate, she could see most of Shadow City, noticing dark shapes moving in the distance.
With Cen Dianshuang’s token, the Thousand-Thread Gu couldn’t touch her, but their sheer number obscured her vision.
She summoned the Flame Dragon Furnace.
“Someone throw me a stick!” she called down.
Pang Xueting, kicking a piece of dry wood, tossed it upwards. “Catch!”
Tao Ning caught it, extending it towards the furnace.
The Flame Dragon Furnace, anticipating a culinary adventure, flickered its flames in confusion, then, hearing Tao Ning’s words, puffed up with pride.
“Your flames are the last embers of the Flame Dragons, a bane of all evil. I need your fire.”
The flattered furnace released a burst of flame, igniting the wood, then, before it could bask in further praise, was recalled.
The disciples below watched, bewildered, then gasped as the sky above them turned a fiery red.
The flames devoured the grey mist, spreading rapidly, their intensity illuminating the entire city.
The heat washed over them, but they resisted the urge to shield their faces, not wanting to miss the spectacle.
Tao Ning amplified the flames with her spiritual energy. Unlike ordinary fire, Flame Dragon fire was difficult to extinguish, yet it didn’t harm inanimate objects. Her initial attempts at cooking with it had required a combination of flattery and deception.
The burning Gu insects recoiled, their swarm scattering, the flames spreading from one to another, illuminating the entire city.
The sky above Shadow City resembled an inverted sea of fire, its crimson waves rolling and crashing.
Countless insects burned, their ashes falling like a fine grey rain.
The disciples below, scrambling for cover, eventually resorted to dismantling a nearby pavilion, carrying its roof like a giant shield.
A front-row seat to a cultivator duel. Can’t miss this!
Tao Ning, watching the giant, moving shield below, tossed them the burning branch.
“Thank you, Senior!” Pang Xueting caught it, using it to incinerate the remaining insects.
The Senior’s fire was far more effective than their own, actually burning the Gu instead of simply repelling them.
These creatures, having festered in Shadow City for so long, had grown resistant to ordinary fire, requiring spiritual fire for their destruction.
With the insects dealt with, Tao Ning turned her attention to the growing horde of walking corpses, glancing at the disciples huddled beneath their makeshift shield. She sheathed Poheng and summoned Jianshu.
Under the moonlight, the zither’s strings vibrated, a deep, resonant melody echoing through the city.
The guttural moans of the walking corpses ceased, an unnerving silence falling over the city.
The disciples, their hearts pounding as they listened to the music, noticed the sudden agitation of the corpses around them.
Like a pack of wolves responding to a call, a louder moan echoed from the distance, and the corpses, initially advancing towards the house, stopped, their own moans rising in response.
The disciples realized that their previous nightly encounters had been mere… appetizers.
Tao Ning, her hands moving gracefully over the strings, the zither hovering in mid-air, supported by her spiritual energy, reached the midpoint of the melody, then, with a graceful leap, took flight.
The walking corpses, their attention now fixed on the figure above them, turned and followed, abandoning their previous targets.
One disciple whispered, “I didn’t see enough.”
Another: “Should we follow?”
With the corpses distracted, they emerged from the house, their torches held high, no longer afraid, their swords flashing as they dispatched the few remaining stragglers.
Stepping over the scattered corpses, they reached the main street, then stopped, their jaws dropping.
Bodies. Everywhere. A mountain of corpses, each one neatly decapitated with a single, precise sword strike.
The estate faced the main street, a wide thoroughfare, now filled with a dense crowd of walking corpses.
The mindless horde retreated, stumbling over their fallen comrades.
At the center of their retreat was a single sword. Or rather, the corpses were retreating from the sword.
Standing on a rooftop, Tao Ning controlled Poheng, its form multiplying into a thousand shimmering blades, their edges glowing with a faint purple light.
Her voice echoed through the night. “Fall.”
The swords descended like a storm of steel, each strike severing a head.
The street cleared, the corpses falling in droves.
Pang Xueting watched, mesmerized. She had known Senior Tao was powerful, but back then, drugged and disoriented, she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate the spectacle.
Tonight, however, all her regrets were erased.
A dark shape flickered in the distance, and Pang Xueting shouted, “Behind you, Senior!”
The music stopped. Tao Ning turned, swinging the zither, sending the dark shape flying.
It crashed into a nearby building, the impact demolishing the structure, sending dust and debris flying.
A young man, rubbing the back of his head, winced. “That would have hurt.”
But it wasn’t over. Something was moving beneath the rubble.
Moments later, a figure emerged, its clothes tattered, its body covered in white fur, its face obscured.
The terrified disciples stared at the grotesque creature. “What… what is that?”
“It has… claws…”
“Poheng.” Tao Ning, putting away the zither, summoned her sword.
A clang of metal against metal as the creature lunged, its dark claws scraping against Poheng’s blade.
Tao Ning stepped back, absorbing the impact.
She finally saw its face. Unfamiliar features, covered in dark runes, its eyes glowing red, its pupils thin and sharp, its gaze fixed on her with an unnerving intensity.
Unlike the other corpses, this one could see. And the tattered remnants of its clothing suggested it had once been a cultivator.
Transforming a living cultivator into a Gu-controlled puppet, merging flesh and insect, was a dark and forbidden art.
The once-living cultivator had been slowly consumed, its body transforming, becoming impervious to blades, its skin covered in fur, its mind lost, becoming the king of the city’s undead.
Thankfully, Tao Ning had muted 520. Otherwise, the sight of this… creature… would have shattered her eardrums with its shrieks.
520, oblivious to its silenced state: 【Ahhhhhhhh！A Zombie King! Ahhhhhhhh！！】
After a brief exchange, Tao Ning severed one of the creature’s arms. Raising her sword for the killing blow, she paused as the creature looked down at its severed limb, seemingly surprised, then turned towards the sound of a distant flute.
“It’s running away!” Tu Shimei exclaimed.
Tao Ning gave chase, her attacks relentless.
The Zombie King, who could have easily defeated all of them combined, was now fleeing for its life, pursued by a single cultivator. The sight was exhilarating. The disciples, cheering internally, followed.
Stay close to the Senior! Safety in numbers!
The Zombie King finally stopped at the edge of the city, at the foot of the mountain, disappearing into a dark cave.
Tao Ning stopped at the entrance, peering into the darkness, then scoffed. “This place looks creepy. I’m not going in. I’ll let the elders handle it.”
She turned to leave.
A cold voice, laced with demonic energy, echoed from the cave. “Insolent child! You dare disrespect me?”
Tao Ning, her hand resting on her sword, chuckled. “If you’re too scared to come out, just say so. I won’t judge. No need for theatrics.”
A moment of silence, then a surge of demonic energy, and a hunched figure in black, surrounded by walking corpses, emerged from the cave.
“I was going to give you a quick death, but now… I’ll flay you alive and feed you to my Gu.”
Tao Ning, unfazed by the threat, having heard far worse during her travels, smiled. “So you’re the one controlling the corpses. You look the part. A true connoisseur of insects and the undead.”
She glanced at him, raising Poheng, its blade shimmering. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re the rogue cultivator who escaped all those years ago. The one who turned Shadow City into a ghost city. You somehow managed to cheat death and become a… cave-dwelling hermit.”
The figure stared at her, its expression strange, unsettling.
Tao Ning’s smile faded, sensing something amiss.
“Your… your face…” The cultivator’s eyes widened. “Identical… Are you… my Lord…? No, that’s impossible. My Lord is at Mahayana. You’re only at peak Golden Core. You’re not her.”
Only one person was addressed as “Lord” by a cultivator from the Demonic Realm.
The current Demon Lord… few acknowledged his authority. He had simply taken over Demon Lord Qingji’s palace, his cultivation far from supreme.
Tao Ning studied him. She didn’t recognize him.
But Demon Lord Qingji had countless followers. Preoccupied with her own cultivation and her pursuit of ascension, she wouldn’t have remembered every single one.
Someone like this… wouldn’t even have been allowed to enter her presence, more likely to be tossed into a furnace as refining material.
Tao Ning’s voice hardened. “You’ve been hiding here for centuries, creating an army of the undead. What are you planning?”
The cultivator, initially dismissing the possibility of her being his Lord, now hesitated, her tone… familiar.
But her cultivation was only at peak Golden Core. However, with her Lord’s abilities, concealing one’s true cultivation was trivial. What if she had… regressed…?
Tao Ning unleashed her Mahayana spiritual pressure, and the cultivator, his mind reeling, his spiritual consciousness feeling like it was being sliced by a thousand blades, collapsed to his knees, clutching his head.
He didn’t dare cry out, his voice filled with respect. “My Lord! I… I discovered the Wanhun Cauldron sealed beneath Shadow City. I remained here, guarding your treasure, awaiting your return.”
Tao Ning’s voice was ice. “Discovered it?”
The cultivator, his face slick with sweat, insisted, “Yes… I discovered it.”
He wouldn’t admit his negligence, his theft, even if his life depended on it.
So, the missing Wanhun Cauldron was here, in the Radiant Realm. Soon, the protagonist would stumble upon it, forming a contract and becoming its master.
But the cauldron was temperamental, loyal to a single master. This cultivator had failed to claim it after centuries, his cultivation insufficient, his actions defying Heaven’s will.
The cauldron had waited, dormant for centuries, for its destined master, chosen by Heaven. If Tao Ning were the original host, she would also want to kill the protagonist.
Three thousand years of arduous cultivation, ending in death by tribulation lightning, only to pave the way for this… child… How could she accept that?
The cultivator, seeing Tao Ning’s silence, his unease growing, stood up hesitantly. “To celebrate your return, my Lord, I have prepared nine pairs of children with suitable spiritual roots to offer as a sacrifice to the Wanhun Cauldron. I pledge my loyalty and my service in reclaiming your rightful place.”
Tao Ning’s face contorted in disgust. “Who told you sacrificing children would awaken the cauldron?”
The cultivator, confused, stammered, “Then… how…?” He had tried countless methods, all failing to break Qingji’s seal. He had been planning to try a forbidden ritual during the next full moon, when the seal’s power was at its weakest.
A faint, ethereal melody, like the sound of a cold mountain spring under the moonlight, echoed through the night.
Tao Ning turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise.
It was a melody only Cen Dianshuang could play, a private communication they had developed.
It was a question: Where are you?
The cultivator’s expression hardened. “More cultivators! They’re seeking death! And there are more of them!”
He summoned the Zombie King and the remaining corpses.
The Zombie King, seeing Tao Ning standing at the cave entrance, hesitated, then turned and fled.
Tao Ning, her gaze following him, frowned in thought.
He wouldn’t pose much of a challenge to Cen Dianshuang. She would catch him easily. There was no stopping her.
At the city gates, Cen Dianshuang, receiving no response, frowned, playing the melody again.
This time, the notes were longer, more urgent.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching, followed by lighter, faster steps, and panicked shouts.
“Where did all these corpses come from?!”
“Didn’t Senior Tao eliminate them all?”
“There are so many! Master, save us!”
“It’s all because this city is too big! We lost the Senior!”
Cen Dianshuang instantly recognized that these weren’t her disciple’s voices.
Her disciple was far too composed to scream and run.
Putting away Yaoguang, summoning Xuan Ying, she flew towards the source of the commotion.
She was, however, intrigued by their mention of “Senior Tao.”
According to the jade token, Tao Ning was within the city. She hadn’t responded to her summons, but the token hadn’t issued any warnings, suggesting she wasn’t in immediate danger.
Her ethereal figure soared through the night sky. Xiao Haoran, hiding under the eaves of a building, looked up, their gazes meeting briefly.
She paid him no attention, continuing her flight towards the city center.
Xiao Haoran, however, emerged from his hiding spot, his gaze following her, mesmerized. “A true immortal…” he murmured.
Beside him, Er Lan frowned, her heart pounding. Cen Dianshuang? What’s she doing here?
The surrounded disciples, seeing a figure descending from the heavens, landing gracefully amidst them, scattering the corpses with a wave of spiritual energy, their eyes widened in hope.
A sword, glowing with a pale moonlight aura, flew through the air, decapitating the corpses with swift, precise strikes.
They assumed it was Senior Tao, but then they saw her face: cold and beautiful, a red mark on her forehead.
Who is this? Another powerful cultivator?
Then, the woman in white swung something long and rectangular, sending a dark shape flying, followed by the sound of collapsing debris.
Another ruined building. Slaying demons and demolishing houses.
The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples: “…”
They wiped the dust from their faces, their expressions mirroring each other: stunned disbelief.
That attack… looked familiar.
Leave a Reply