Chapter Nineteen: The Ferocity of the Ghost Lord

A blazing "sword of fire," nearly two meters long, sliced through the air, shooting toward the little boy in blue who had been tossing around a rotten human head as if it were a ball.

"Big brother is so fierce, burning me with fire," the boy's voice rang out, clear and crisp. But to Fu Yang, it sounded like a chill wind that cut to the bone.

With a whoosh, the rotten head was hurled away, colliding midair with the burning peach-wood sword thrown by Ah Huang. With a thunderous explosion, a basketball-sized ball of flame blossomed, astonishingly bright.

Thud. The peach-wood sword, its magical power spent, fell to the ground unmoving. The rotten head had shattered and vanished as well.

Ah Huang slumped beside him, as if all his strength had been drained. He sighed, "The True Fire Sword—this is my strongest attack spell. It’s over. I’m no match for the Ghost Lord."

Yet his expression grew resolute. "Fu Yang, in a moment I’ll hold him off. You must find a way to escape..."

He was ready to trade his own life for his brother’s. Sacrificing himself to distract the boy and give Fu Yang the chance to flee.

"Get lost with that crap! Are we brothers or not? If we’re dying today, we’ll go down swinging together!"

Ah Huang was moved, nodding, "Alright! If worst comes to worst, I’ll die and become a ghost. I’ll find a way to escape the Underworld, cultivate for a hundred years, and come back for revenge!"

After all, as a Taoist, it was easy for his soul to become a fierce ghost after death, unlike ordinary people who must rely on luck...

"Wow, so touching! I’ll be sure to blend your brains together and eat them," the little boy wiped imaginary tears from his eyes, as if moved by their brotherhood. Yet his words sent chills crawling over their skin.

Suddenly, he raised his head, and the once adorable round face twisted into something hideous. Deathly pale, blood streaming from nose, eyes, and mouth, he opened his jaws to reveal rows of razor-sharp fangs.

"Big brother, let me have a bite of your flesh!"

The boy moved with terrifying speed, shooting toward them like a bolt of lightning. But just as he was about to reach them, nine stones zipped across the ground, landing around him in a circle and trapping him inside.

They were only ordinary stones, yet he was unable to move, glaring at the pair with bloody eyes.

Ah Huang burst out laughing, "Dog-turd brat, that’s what you get for talking so much! Gave me time to set a trap. Fu Yang, let’s scram!"

He grabbed Fu Yang’s wrist, snatching up the cloth bundle as they dashed desperately out of the grove of locust trees.

Just a few steps out, a thunderous crash sounded behind them, followed by the roar of dust.

Ah Huang stared in disbelief, "Damn, the Ghost Lord broke out of my trap in two seconds?"

Before Fu Yang could reply, Ah Huang let out a wretched scream, as if struck by a mighty force. He was sent flying, crashing into a tree, coughing up blood onto the grass.

His head lolled—he’d fainted on the spot.

The voice behind them was no longer clear and sweet, but laced with venom and malice. "Very good, big brother. Seems I can’t eat you so easily. I’ll show you what hell really means!"

Seeing his childhood friend unconscious and bleeding, remembering this damned brat had already commanded the water-wraith corpses to kill two people, Fu Yang’s anger surged, overpowering his fear.

Bloodshot eyes blazing, he spun around, picked up a stone, and charged, "Damn you! I’ll show you what hell is!"

But he couldn’t even take a step. His arm, seized by invisible force, brought the stone crashing down onto his own head!

He’d used all his strength. Blood gushed, streaming down his face, dripping, dripping...

So much pain!

Fu Yang let out a shrill scream. The boy in blue clapped his hands and laughed, "Now you’re just like me, big brother—your head’s bleeding, bleeding!"

As he said this, more blood poured from his own head, like a waterfall, gushing, gushing, until the entire lakeside seemed to transform into a sea of blood.

An ordinary person would have been driven mad by terror.

But Fu Yang was bold by nature, and his recent experiences with the supernatural had hardened him. He realized immediately: it was an illusion!

"Don’t look. Just don’t look." He shut his eyes tightly.

He felt something around his neck. The Ghost Lord’s voice came from above. "Big brother, I want to open a hole in your skull and suck out your brains, is that alright? Hehe, haha."

A shiver ran through him—pure terror! He imagined his skull pierced and a hole opened, white brains sucked out like tofu pudding...

Ah!

He couldn’t suppress his scream.

Pain stabbed through the top of his head—cold and sharp. He knew the Ghost Lord’s nails were tracing his scalp. Any deeper and they’d pierce the skull, exposing the steaming brains...

"Is this how I die?"

At the brink, terror gave way to a strange calm.

"At least I’ll die with Ah Huang. And I won’t have to serve that ghost woman, Dong Weike, anymore. Let it end..."

But at that critical moment, something changed!

Suddenly, a warm current surged within Fu Yang’s body. In a flash, it shot to the crown of his head and erupted outward.

A bright red beam burst from his skull, striking the hideous face of the Ghost Lord boy.

Bang.

A soft sound. The red beam from Fu Yang’s body sent the Ghost Lord flying.

He heard a chilling scream behind him. The oppressive, blood-soaked sensation vanished.

He opened his eyes—everything had returned to normal. The sea of blood had been only illusion.

Turning, he saw the Ghost Lord boy floating in midair, half his head smashed, black, putrid liquid oozing like ink. His blue silk jacket had vanished, revealing the mangled corpse beneath—a terrifying sight.

The creature shrieked, eyes twisted with hatred, glaring at Fu Yang before turning and vanishing into the dense locust grove by the lakeside.