Chapter 68:
Drawing the Sword – The War Horns Sounded
Why was this happening?
This wasn’t part of the plan.
Chen Henian saw a knowing smile on Jiang Wan’s face as she pulled him along, running through a long, dark corridor, like the belly of a beast, no light, only rows of open doorways on either side, small, empty rooms, each containing a single bed, like an antechamber to the underworld.
They reached the end of the corridor, their footsteps echoing.
The women, drawn by the sound, followed cautiously, their movements slow and hesitant.
Jiang Wan’s pace quickened, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes fixed on the door at the end of the corridor. Chen Henian understood. As she let go of his hand, they both jumped, their arms shielding their heads, their bodies slamming against the door.
The impact shattered the latch, the wooden door splintering, crashing open, sending them sprawling onto the dusty floor.
The door wasn’t sturdy, no lock, the wood old and brittle, a thick layer of dust beneath it.
Chen Henian landed hard, Jiang Wan scrambling to her feet, her hand raised, her voice echoing through the corridor.
“Spirits and ghosts, heed my call! Bind—!” Her breath hitched, her eyes turning black, the runes of the ghost control technique swirling around her, invisible threads reaching out, ensnaring the ghosts.
The ghosts didn’t resist, only wailing mournfully as they floated down from the walls, their movements controlled by Jiang Wan’s will.
“We’re going up the mountain, I won’t wait any longer!” she yelled, her voice ringing through the night, the rain plastering her hair to her face. “I’ll make them hear me! Those two-legged ghosts! They can’t stop me! They can’t stop us! They’ll be the ones running in fear!”
Chen Henian watched in silence.
He saw the women huddled behind the door, like a dark mass, their bodies pressed against the threshold, not daring to cross it, their hands reaching out tentatively, as if the outside world were a burning ember, their fear palpable, Jiang Wan’s voice, her defiance, a terrifying sound in their silent world.
But she was one of them, they had recognized her, her strange writing a shared language.
She had promised them freedom, not just from the walls that confined them, but from the fear that imprisoned their hearts.
A difficult task, Chen Henian couldn’t imagine how to restore their lost selves after decades of servitude.
But he knew what she intended to do.
On this blank canvas, she was a splash of ink, a bold stroke, showing them the way, teaching them, her actions reckless and impulsive, her defiance a challenge, a call to arms, a battle against hundreds of ghosts and humans, a fight for their lives.
But he admired her courage, her recklessness, a strange sense of pride swelling within him, an unfamiliar emotion. He too had grown tired of silence, of being controlled, of being a pawn.
The ghosts within the village stirred, sensing the disturbance, their forms converging, their speed unnatural.
The rain didn’t hinder his vision. He had needles and thread hidden in his pockets, but he didn’t move, even as the ghosts surrounded them.
“You’re ready, aren’t you?” he asked Jiang Wan, his voice low.
“I’m ready,” she replied, her voice firm.
They stepped out into the open, Jiang Wan running through the fields, her hair plastered to her face, her arms outstretched, her mouth open, catching the rain, like a child playing in a storm.
The ghosts reached for them, their hands dripping blood, their faces grotesque.
But they didn’t attack, their movements restricted by chains, their frustration evident in their muffled growls.
“Elder Sister, help me one last time,” Jiang Wan whispered, the rain washing away the dirt and grime, her body enveloped in a black mist, the Black Wraith appearing above her, its form larger than the other ghosts, but its attire the same, a black veil concealing its face, a dark cloud against the stormy sky.
It was a Black Wraith, the most powerful ghost here.
The lesser spirits recoiled from its presence.
A strange, ethereal chant emanated from Jiang Wan’s throat, the true power of ghost control.
Chen Henian wasn’t disturbed by the sound, her voice like flowing water, a cool breeze, a soothing balm against the ghosts’ silent agony.
The Black Wraith joined the chant, its voice raspy, like nails scraping against wood, its presence a mournful cry, a roar of rage and sorrow, echoing through the village that had once been its prison.
The ghosts struggled, their chains silencing their screams, their bodies torn between two forces, their eyes glowing red, tears of blood falling from their dark eyes.
They gathered behind Jiang Wan, a swirling mass of black veils, like a coiling dragon.
“This is right! This is what I wanted!” she exclaimed, her eyes still dark and empty, but her blood burning with a fierce passion.
Chen Henian saw her strength, her will influencing the ghosts, but only she knew the true source of their obedience.
At fourteen, abandoned on the Liany Mountains, her powers still weak, she hadn’t controlled them, they had chosen to follow her, their defiance a silent rebellion against their masters.
This was their way of saying no!
And she had seen a special ghost, the first to approach her, its presence making her heart ache.
A black thread, like a centipede, sewn across its lips, the chains around its neck thicker and heavier than the others.
Mother, are you proud of me?
Since leaving that mountain, she had never regretted being born in this cursed world. This was her purpose!
“My people, they’re awake!”
Her voice echoed through the village, a powerful cry.
“They’ve been awake all along! They just didn’t know how to fight! They didn’t know how to be free! Every word has meaning, every effort has meaning, every life has meaning!”
The Jiang clan sensed the disturbance, the connection to their ghosts severed, like a kite string cut, a sudden loss of control.
The men emerged from their houses, seeing the shadows moving through the fields, a larger shadow leading them.
Zuo He also saw it, the guardian ghosts abandoning their posts, their forms drifting away.
More and more ghosts gathered, an unnatural occurrence in this controlled environment.
He heard Jiang Wan’s voice, sharp and clear, cutting through the night.
What were they doing?
They were supposed to wait for the men to reveal themselves, why had they shown their hand?
What had happened?
His anxiety grew, and as the man he had drugged stirred, he struck him again, rendering him unconscious, then ran outside, towards the shadows.
The Jiang clan emerged from their houses, their forms, human and ghost, indistinguishable in the darkness, filling the streets and fields.
Who was human, who was ghost, in this village?
The oppressed knew the difference.
Zuo He had to reach Chen Henian and Jiang Wan before the ghosts did, his feet slipping on the muddy path, the darkness beneath him a void, his body leaping over ditches and fences, his breath coming in ragged gasps, reaching them just as the ghosts closed in.
But Chen Henian and Jiang Wan were smiling, their faces strangely serene, a throng of black-veiled ghosts behind them.
Were they playing grim reapers in the middle of the night?
He couldn’t understand their actions, their recklessness, their madness, but they were a team.
He fought the approaching men, his fists and feet a blur, taking down several before they could reach Chen Henian and Jiang Wan.
The Jiang clan surrounded them, wielding sickles and bows and arrows, their voices rising in a chant, trying to regain control of their ghosts.
But Jiang Wan stood before them, a shield, her eyes hardening, her aura growing, her gaze fixed on the shadowy figures above, the two-legged ghosts, their forms swaying, their faces hidden in the darkness.
They were outnumbered, but it didn’t matter.
No more running, no more hiding, this land was theirs! She would take back what was stolen!
The Black Wraith, sensing her resolve, roared, its cry echoing through the valley.
The invisible threads of the Jiang clan’s control snapped, their power broken.
They had failed. The realization enraged them.
“Kill them! Kill them!”
“Break their array!”
“Outsiders daring to defile our ancestral land!”
“They’ll pay for this! Riddle them with arrows! Bury them alive!”
The men raised their bows, a volley of arrows raining down.
The rain and wind slowed their descent, their trajectory visible.
“Da Huang!” Chen Henian yelled, his voice calm and steady.
“You still remember me?” the mirror ghost’s voice, filled with mock surprise, its painted face emerging from Zuo He’s backpack. “I haven’t tasted human flesh in a while.”
It licked its lips, its long hair swirling around the arrows, its grotesque face grinning, as if about to sing an aria of death.
“A mere mirror spirit, daring to defy us!”
The men roared, charging forward, their swords and axes raised, but a commotion erupted from the center of the village.
“It’s terrible! The Emperor! The Emperor has been bitten by a snake! Help! Help!”
“What? A snake? How?!” The men panicked. “Go back! We have to protect our ancestor!”
They turned and ran towards the palace.
A snake?
There were no ordinary snakes here.
“I sent Xiao Bai,” Zuo He said. “Capture the king first, a preemptive strike, I didn’t expect it to actually work.”
They climbed the hill, only to find another group blocking their path, children, some as young as five or six, the oldest fourteen, wielding miniature swords and knives, pointing at them. “Evil ghosts! Where are you going?!”
“They’re food! Don’t let them escape!” The boys, their small bodies swaying, their heads bobbing, their voices filled with excitement. “If we catch them, Father will reward us! We can choose a nest tomorrow night!”
“Me too!”
“Look, long hair, they’re nests too!”
“Let’s get them! I want to taste a nest!”
Their childish bravado, their excitement, made them seem more like ghosts than humans.
The mirror ghost looked at Chen Henian, silently asking if it could eat them.
He couldn’t let anyone disturb Jiang Wan’s ritual, her concentration fragile. He stepped forward, his fist connecting with the first boy’s face, sending him sprawling into the mud, his cries echoing through the night.
“I’ll tell Father!” the thirteen-year-old boy wailed, clutching his face. “He’ll give you to me! I’ll kill you! I’ll fill your belly with my children!”
The mirror ghost wrinkled its nose in disgust. “I don’t want to eat them, not even if you force me to. They smell like a cesspool.”
“Little bastards!” Chen Henian roared. “Come on, I’ll beat you all! Get lost!”
“They can talk?”
“They’re not supposed to talk! They’re crazy, like that mad nest!” The boys, startled by his outburst, whispered among themselves, their bravado fading, replaced by fear.
They were afraid, afraid of hearing a nest’s voice, afraid of women taking what was rightfully theirs.
“Don’t be afraid! They’re just nests! We outnumber them! They can’t beat us!” one of the boys yelled, his voice regaining its strength.
They charged forward, but a giant snake head suddenly appeared, blocking their path.
The white python, Xiao Bai, reared its head, its tongue flicking out, its size immense, larger than any ordinary python.
“A monster! It’s a monster!”
“They’re using sorcery! They’re crazy!”
The boys, terrified by the sight of the giant snake, its eyes glowing menacingly, dropped their weapons and scattered, some wetting themselves, others frozen in fear.
Xiao Bai, nourished by Chen Henian’s essence, its power returning, had transformed into a giant snake.
It turned its head towards them.
“Get on!” Zuo He yelled, and they climbed onto its back.
He looked at the ghosts behind them, a silent army, then asked, “Where are we going?”
Chen Henian pointed towards the tallest mountain. “There, I can feel it, the strongest concentration of resentment.”
Xiao Bai lowered its body, slithering swiftly, carrying them towards the Liany Mountains.
It was another ominous mountain, its peaks shrouded in mist, its valleys filled with the cries of restless spirits, a familiar and unsettling sight.
Chen Henian frowned, expecting an attack, a fierce battle.
But nothing happened. The black-veiled ghosts followed them, their forms flanking the snake, clearing their path.
The Black Wraith wailed, its cry echoing through the mountains, a chorus of ghostly voices rising in response.
Not enemies, not demons, but their lost sisters!
Shadows emerged from the forest, their forms indistinct, their fingers pointing.
He saw the sword.
It was embedded in the mountaintop, surrounded by boulders, wrapped in rusty chains, its aura a venomous red, its blade cracked and worn.
This powerful artifact, reduced to a mere weapon, a desecration, an insult to Princess Zhaoping’s memory.
Xiao Bai couldn’t go any further, the sword’s aura too strong, its touch burning even through scales, its presence a threat to all who approached.
They slid off the snake’s back.
“We’ll go together,” Chen Henian said.
“No,” Jiang Wan said. “Just me.”
“Only a Jiang woman is worthy of wielding Princess Zhaoping’s sword,” she said. “This is the only way to break the curse. Those two-legged ghosts, they don’t believe the women under their control can awaken.”
“That’s why they’re doomed.”
She smiled, walking towards the sword, its aura not harming her, but swirling around her, a welcoming embrace.
She reached the summit, her fingers gripping the hilt, her knuckles white, her head raised, the tendons in her neck taut, her voice echoing through the mountains, a mixture of rage and triumph. “Princess Zhaoping, Jiang Wan! I, Jiang Shisan, offer my flesh, my soul, my bones, to awaken you! Hear my voice! Hear the cries of our sisters!”
“Sleeping spirit, rise with your army! Shatter this cursed land! Slaughter the demons!”
Her voice rang through the mountains, a powerful cry.
A shattering sound—
The chains broke. She drew the sword, the earth trembling, the blade flashing in the darkness, like a beacon of hope.
She raised the sword, then turned it, the blade against her own throat.
She would sacrifice herself, offer her blood to the sword, awaken the spirit within.
Chen Henian watched, his heart pounding.
Jiang Wan’s eyes were open, her lips trembling, then she plunged the sword into her neck, the blood spraying.
The sword fell, but she didn’t collapse.
I want more than just freedom.
I want those demons to suffer in hell for eternity!
Her eyes wide, her body falling to its knees, the sword supporting her, preventing her from collapsing completely.
Princess Zhaoping had died by her own hand, atoning for her sins. Jiang Wan followed in her footsteps.
Chen Henian’s heart ached, his vision blurring, tears falling, colder than the rain.
He and Zuo He ran towards her.
Then, the sound of a horse’s whinny—
A shadow fell upon the mountaintop, a tall, imposing figure, its armor gleaming, a large sword in its hand, mounted on a horse, its head helmeted, a blood-red cape flowing behind it.
The Hegemon Sword—!
A ghostly warrior!
Its armor shimmered, its horse pawing the ground, its presence like a dark cloud, its power flattening the mountaintop.
The wind howled through the trees, a red banner unfurling.
Then, the war horns sounded.
