Spirit Realm Walker

Why did the Treasure Hunting instinct have to trigger now, of all times? Dark Rose members could be lurking nearby, Zhang Yuanqing fretted as he hastily bid farewell to the shopkeeper and dashed out of the convenience store. There had to be Nocturnal Specters among Dark Rose’s ranks. If Little Goofball bumped into one, that would be the end of him.

The streets stretched wide and empty. Cars tore past every now and then, yet their drivers seemed completely oblivious to the fierce battle raging inside the school. The same went for the nearby apartment buildings, many of whose windows still glowed with warm light. A big city never ran short of night owls, but not a single one had been drawn to the chaos on campus.

After leaving the convenience store, Zhang Yuanqing trailed Little Goofball from a safe distance along the sidewalk. The infant spirit crawled to a crossroads, lifted his wispy-haired little head, glanced left, then turned to the right and sniffed the air. He finally locked onto a direction, lowered his head, and scuttled forward with startling speed.

Zhang Yuanqing had no choice but to quicken his pace, following a careful distance behind.

***

The Great Protector, draped in his black cloak, surveyed the lush forest around him. 

”The Zoo Projection… So, you’ve finally broken out this rule-type item, you old relic,” he mused, his voice coming out hoarse and ragged.

Atop a towering tree, a curly-haired poodle sat, poised and regal, gazing down with profound aura. ”A Level 7 Diurnal Spirit is rare, even in Taiyi Sect. I’ve already memorized your aura. If you’re not one of theirs, then so be it. But if you are”—he let out a soft laugh—”Your death warrant is signed.”

While the two exchanged words, Fu Qingyang darted forward from his position in a blur, leaving a streak of white afterimages in his wake. Propelled by nothing but raw physical power, he covered dozens of meters in an instant and appeared behind Black Wuchang. The young master of the Fu family wore a cold, ruthless expression, like a killer devoid of emotion as he raised his bronze sword high.

Sheer terror flooded Black Wuchang’s face, and his limbs seized up violently. Would he dodge left? Or dodge right? His brain seemed to malfunction entirely, unable to send a single command to his body. Despite being an Evil-class Walker at the peak of the Saint tier, the overwhelming helplessness that surged through him when facing this one strike was absolute. There was no evading the blow.

Black Wuchang made a split second decision. His skin hardened, growing layer upon layer of keratin, and he dropped to both knees, bellowing at the top of his lungs, ”Accept my bow!”

He slammed his forehead into the ground with a resounding crack, shattering the concrete beneath it.

Fu Qingyang’s descending blade froze in midair. A sickly grey pallor crept over its wielder’s face, as though some invisible force had contaminated him.

Hex Arts: Fortune Shearing.

Hex Masters, as the name implied, commanded both hex craft and dark sorcery, two arts that were notorious for their insidious and sinister nature.

Fortune Shearing was an active skill only available to Level 6 Hex Masters. Through prostration, rituals, or the crafting of formations, it could erode a target’s luck. Of these methods, the kowtow was the simplest trigger, but also the weakest in effect. Given enough time, Black Wuchang could have left Fu Qingyang drowning in misfortune—choking on cold water, suffering explosive diarrhea, and finding every romantic encounter plagued by nagging complaints.

With his opponent’s blade now frozen in midair, Black Wuchang’s trembling ceased. Still in his kowtow position, he rolled sideways in one fluid motion.

Suddenly, threads as fine as human hair coiled around his ankles. More and more of these red threads attached themselves to him, cluster after cluster, sheet upon sheet, writhing like countless twisted tentacles.

The Palace Master hovered in midair, her skirts billowing around her like some ravishing dark enchantress. She never uttered a single word from start to finish, yet every move she made was merciless beyond measure.

The red threads tightened with a sickening crack, splitting apart the hardened keratin across Black Wuchang’s body. However, he seemed utterly oblivious to his predicament. He only gazed up at that breathtaking crimson silhouette in naked adoration, as though she were the love of his life.

A beam of pure, crystalline golden light descended upon him. The purifying force tore an agonized howl from the Hex Master, but it also burned through the red threads and dispelled their mental control.

A torrent of flame surged toward the Palace Master. Dark Rose’s Fire Sage used Fire Walk and closed the distance in a blink, hammering her with a rapid barrage of strikes. Explosions of fire bloomed one after another as red threads whipped through the air.

On the other side of the battlefield, Black Wuchang had barely broken free of the Palace Master’s Charm when he found himself surrounded by a menagerie of spectral animals—snarling baboons, a magnificent, ferocious tiger, a towering, powerful elephant, lions, leopards, dogs, oxen, bears, and more. As nothing more than pure projections, their eyes were hollow and cold, yet each one radiated tremendous power.

Without warning, a chill shot through Black Wuchang’s groin, followed instantly by a piercing, excruciating pain. A hyena had ambushed him from behind, clamping its jaws on his most precious assets. Fortunately, his hardened skin saved him once again. The extra layer of hide cracked under the bite, but he narrowly avoided a far more devastating outcome.

The hyena’s sneak attack served as the signal to charge, and the rest of the animals swarmed him at once. 

The Great Protector let out a cold snort. The Hundred Flowers Society elder’s objective was obvious: kill Black Wuchang and let the Fallen Holy Grail in his Inventory return to the Spirit Realm. Then, no one would get their hands on it.

He drew a deep breath and exhaled massive plumes of yin energy, thick with frost. Within the billowing dark mist, vengeful spirits drifted and swam, clawing and lunging as the cloud drifted into the herd of beasts. 

The scene dissolved into pandemonium. Phantom animals and phantom spirits tore into each other in a chaotic free for all.

Witnessing this, the Hex King recalled the blood mist into his body and reformed his humanoid shape. Then, without warning, his body exploded, bursting into chunks of raw flesh that scattered across the ”forest.” The fragments melted, oozing like crude oil, smothering trees, flowers, grass, and bare ground alike. The entire campus, and every inch of the conjured forest, was polluted, covered in an aura of corruption.

This was a Sovereign-tier Hex Master’s skill, capable of corroding and defiling all things in existence. The spectral animals lost their source of power at once and dissolved, their reluctant howls fading along with them.

At that very moment, a lump of flesh landed behind Black Wuchang and coalesced into a humanoid form, but golden light descended in an instant and annihilated the Hex King’s avatar.

This was a melee of high-level Walkers, all tangled together in utter chaos.

Black Wuchang collapsed onto the ground. His left leg and right hand had been gnawed to bloody ruins, his clothing shredded to ribbons, and the keratin shell across his body was fractured and slick with blood.

He let out a low, eerie laugh. ”You want the Holy Grail? Fine. Take it. I’m done playing with you lot.”

His left hand reached out into empty air, and from it withdrew a beautifully crafted crystal chalice. Hairline cracks traced themselves around its surface, and the liquid inside was as crimson as blood. Suspended within that scarlet wine, a sphere of golden radiance bobbed and drifted, like a miniature sun. The golden light hit the crystal surface and refracted, creating a rose-tinted halo.

The chaotic battle ground to an immediate halt. Every eye locked onto the crystal chalice, drawn to it with an almost magnetic pull.

From his perch atop the towering tree, the curly-haired poodle stared at the chalice and sighed. ”So that’s it. So that’s what it was all along. I never imagined Demon Lord actually managed to obtain this. He was only one step away from reaching the summit.”

A clump of flesh congealed into human form. Greed blazed white hot in the Hex King’s scarlet eyes. ”Ghost Eye Judge didn’t die for nothing. Haha, he certainly didn’t die for nothing…”

Black Wuchang hurled the Holy Grail skyward with all his remaining strength. ”Go on, fight for it! Whoever grabs it, keeps it!”

The crystal chalice, shining with its rose-gold radiance, soared higher and higher. Every gaze tracked it with desperate intensity.

The curly-haired poodle launched itself from the treetop, transforming mid-leap into a crane with a two-meter wingspan that beat its wings as it streaked toward the chalice. From the undergrowth below, clumps of raw flesh erupted upward, merging in midair to form a colossal hand that reached for the ever rising chalice.

But faster than either of them was The Great Protector in his black cloak. He materialized before the chalice without a sound and reached out to snatch it.

At that precise moment, a sharp, crystalline whistle pierced the air, appearing last but striking first. Rolling waves of sound reverberated across the battlefield. The Great Protector, the crane, and the giant hand of flesh all froze, paralyzed.

No one could resist the voice of a Musician.

The Palace Master stood motionless atop the main campus building, her head thrown back as she sang to the heavens. Her crimson skirt whipped in the wind, and behind her, masses of red threads erupted skyward like grasping claws, targeting The Great Protector of Dark Rose.

She had no interest in the Holy Grail.

The red threads wound tight, instantly cocooning the paralyzed Great Protector in a chrysalis. A single heartbeat later, golden light burst through the gaps in the threads as The Great Protector shattered his bonds.

The Palace Master raised her hand, her wide sleeve sliding back to reveal an arm as pale and flawless as fresh snow, and snapped her fingers. The red threads that had been burned away sprang back to life as though granted a second chance, restoring themselves in an instant and binding the Great Protector once more.

In that same breath, a streak of white and a flash of crimson light shot skyward, spiraling around each other as they raced toward the chalice. An explosion of flame boosted the crimson streak as it leaped forward, fractionally overtaking the white blur.

Fu Qingyang’s expression didn’t waver. Sword in one hand, he thrust the other into the void. Five streams of luminance—black, white, green, red, and yellow—materialized and attached themselves to his back.

They unfurled in the rushing wind and transformed into five great banners, each embroidered with images of verdant wood, a white tiger, roaring flame, mountain ridges, and flowing water. In an instant, Fu Qingyang looked like an old general on a traditional theatre stage, bristling with flags from head to toe.

The five banners blazed with swirling light, and from them leapt a magnificent tiger of five brilliant colors, riding the gale as it lunged at the fireball above. Man and tiger collided with the flames and plummeted together in a tangle.

Fu Qingyang surged ahead of everyone, reaching the destination first, and seized the crystal chalice.

”Excellent!” said the crane in a human voice. ”Quickly, store it in your Inventory!”

The Hex King let out a furious roar, and the giant hand formed from his flesh swept toward Fu Qingyang.

The Great Protector tore his way through his red-threaded cage once more, but upon seeing what was happening, he didn’t intervene. He simply let out a cold laugh. 

The crystal chalice in Fu Qingyang’s hand dimmed, its radiance vanishing, and became nothing more than an ordinary glass cup. 

The onrushing hand of flesh lurched to a halt. The crane tumbled through the air, shifting back into the curly-haired poodle form, shock written all over his face.

The Fire Sage, pinned beneath the five colored tiger, erupted into wild, unhinged laughter. Black Wuchang, still slumped on the ground, cackled along, then called out, ”What are you laughing at?”

The Fire Sage sneered. ”I’m laughing at Fu Qingyang’s lack of cunning and the Hex King’s lack of wit. And you? What are you laughing at?”

Black Wuchang grinned. ”I’m laughing at the Palace Master’s lack of cunning and that Dog Elder’s lack of wit.”

The curly-haired poodle returned to its perch on the treetop, his expression grave. ”Charm?”

The Great Protector smiled and said in his hoarse voice, ”Exactly. It was nothing but a little trick I played on all of you. Tsk,tsk. A shame, really. If Fu Qingyang were at the Sovereign tier, a Scout’s golden eyes would have seen right through my illusion.”

The Hex King recalled every last scrap of flesh, reconstituting his true form. His scarlet pupils burned with fury. ”Black Wuchang. If you won’t produce the Fallen Holy Grail, then die. I’d rather it return to the Spirit Realm.”

Black Wuchang let out a derisive laugh. ”And that’s why I say you lack wit. You really think killing me sends the Fallen Holy Grail back to the Spirit Realm? Do you truly believe this body you see before you is the real me?”

The Hex King froze. He scrutinized Black Wuchang for a long moment, then understanding dawned, and his voice dropped low. ”A hex clone.”

The hex clone was a secret art among Hex Masters. By fusing one’s own blood with a life-bonded hex creature, a Hex Master could forge a secondary body whose aura and even soul signature were indistinguishable from the original.

For most Hex Masters, this technique was of limited use. The cost of creating a clone was a severe reduction in one’s own power that took months to recover from. If Black Wuchang’s deal with Dark Rose was imminent, why would he cripple himself like that?

A flicker of understanding crossed Fu Qingyang’s face, and he said in a measured tone, ”The way you’re conducting your transaction with Dark Rose isn’t what we assumed.”

Black Wuchang threw his head back and laughed, thoroughly pleased with himself. ”As expected of a Scout. That’s right. Today was always about using this clone to sign a contract with The Great Protector. Only after this contract is in place would I send my real body, with the Grail.

”The world is a treacherous place, after all. I had to take precautions. I never expected you to actually find this location. A happy accident on your part, and you all got played for your trouble.

”Losing this clone will cost me a significant portion of my combat strength in the short term, for sure. But Dark Rose already has the Book of Contracts. The deal can happen any time now, and it doesn’t even have to be in Songhai. Next time, setting up an ambush in advance will be harder than scaling the heavens. No one can stop me from claiming the Grail and becoming the next Ghost Eye Judge.”

Fu Qingyang was silent for a long moment, offering no rebuttal.

The gap in trust between Dark Rose and Black Wuchang had been bridged by the Book of Contracts. They could execute the trade at any time, in any place, in total secrecy. The opportunity had been lost. Any future intervention would be nearly impossible.

So close, and yet so far.

”The Book of Contracts,” the Hundred Flowers Society elder murmured to himself from the treetop, then conceded with a sigh, ”So be it. Hex King, Palace Master, there’s no stopping this now. Let’s join forces and kill them instead. At the very least, we’ll deal Dark Rose a crippling blow.”

***

One kilometer from Songhai Third Elementary School, at the mouth of a secluded alley, a figure in a duck-billed cap and face mask lurked in the shadows, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. Resting in his palm was a beautifully crafted crystal chalice, its surface laced with cracks. Within the scarlet liquid, a miniature sun bobbed and drifted. Within the vessel, two forces fought against each other, locked in a delicate equilibrium.

The rose-tinted glow illuminated the man’s face: long, narrow-eyed, and ugly in a way that was unmistakably distinctive. It was Black Wuchang.

He exhaled slowly, his feelings all knotted up in a complicated tangle. ”I’ll just have to wait for the next opportunity.”

The official ambush had caught him completely off-guard. The deal was ruined and he’d lost a clone, but the Grail was still in his possession. In the grand scheme, those losses were manageable.

Caution paid off. As long as one was cautious enough, risk could be averted before it ever materialized. As for whether The Great Protector of Dark Rose survived the night, that was none of his concern.

He stared at the tiny ”sun” floating in the chalice, greed swimming in his gaze. ”What a pity. A divine treasure like this, and I have to hand it to Dark Rose.”

He had been there when it had first been discovered, and he understood the terrifying power of that ”sun” better than most. If he could control both items at once, Black Wuchang was confident he would become the strongest entity across all three divisions of the Psychic Assembly.

However, he had to relinquish one of them, at least for the moment. Otherwise, he’d end up with nothing.

Something pricked his consciousness, tugging at his awareness. His gaze drifted from the chalice to the mouth of the alley.

Pale yellow light spilled out from the streetlamps above, illuminating the empty entrance to the alley. However, through his spiritual senses, he could faintly make out a tiny vengeful spirit crouched nearby, staring right at him with its round, glistening eyes.

His own large eyes met those little black eyes. 

What the hell is that?