Volume Two, Travels in the State of Qi Chapter Eighty-Eight: Burning the Accursed Thing

Zhang Heng was stunned when he realized he had actually struck the Ghost Saint Daoist. Wasn’t that thing supposed to be incorporeal? How could he have touched it?

A cold voice sounded in his mind:

Ghost Saint Daoist has absorbed fifty thousand heroic souls. He has now become partially physical and can naturally be touched.

It could really transform into a body?

Zhang Heng was secretly alarmed. Thankfully, he had moved quickly. If the Ghost Saint Daoist had truly completed the transformation, he feared he would no longer be able to deal with him.

Once he fully became physical, this Spirit Binding Array would probably cease to work entirely.

Since it could be hit, then this would be fun.

Zhang Heng looked at the Ghost Saint Daoist before him, now partially manifested, and a wicked smile spread across his face.

This vile creature had caused the deaths of so many cultivators. He absolutely had to be taught a lesson.

The Ghost Saint Daoist had a bad feeling.

Zhang Heng used both hands, his palms landing like a storm of rain upon the Ghost Saint Daoist’s face. As he grew excited, he even began kicking him.

Mu Wanqing watched Zhang Heng in this state and could not quite make sense of it.

Just a moment ago, Zhang Heng had been so imposing, driving the evil being back with his own blood to activate the array. Yet now he looked like a complete simpleton. It truly left her dumbfounded.

At that moment, the Ghost Saint Daoist laughed. The eerie sound sent chills through everyone’s spine.

Zhang Heng froze. Had he actually beaten the Ghost Saint Daoist silly?

“Heh. Heh-heh. You little bastard, so what if you can control me? You still can’t kill me.”

“My strength is recovering little by little. It won’t be long before I break free. When that time comes, I’ll slaughter every one of you. Especially you, you little bastard. I’ll tear you to pieces.”

After all, the Ghost Saint had once been a cultivator who had crossed the tribulation stage. He had recovered quite a bit of his cultivation by now. Though Zhang Heng punched and kicked him, he could not truly harm him.

“Hahahahaha—hahahahaha—”

The Ghost Saint Daoist was laughing to himself when the laughter abruptly stopped.

“Ah! I’m just a small cultivator. Of course I can’t hurt you. But now that you have a body, perhaps this will work.”

Zhang Heng sighed, then spoke slyly.

He raised his left hand. A small sword lay quietly in his palm.

The Ghost Saint Daoist seemed to think of something. Panic instantly flooded his voice.

“Little brother, spare me! Please, spare me!”

At that moment, he was truly afraid.

He remembered that these minor cultivators possessed a powerful attack. Earlier, he had been incorporeal, so that attack could not hurt him. But now he had become partially physical. That attack would naturally be able to wound him.

“Spare me, please spare me!”

This peerless powerhouse, who had once dominated the world a thousand years ago, was now begging this small cultivator like a dog. It was truly laughable.

“You have committed countless evils, your hands stained with the blood of hundreds of thousands. How could I forgive you?”

Zhang Heng spoke coldly, and a glint of frost flashed between his brows.

This man could never be allowed to leave alive. Otherwise, the world would surely descend into chaos.

“My heart is like a sword!”

A loud shout burst from Zhang Heng’s mouth.

At this moment, Zhang Heng did not stand for himself alone, but for every cultivator under heaven.

It seemed that his bond with the Heart-Guarding Sword had grown even closer.

This sword strike represented all the cultivators who had died at the Ghost Saint Daoist’s hands.

Amid a storm of panicked screams, the once-great Ghost Saint Daoist was reduced to nothing, body and soul utterly annihilated.

He died, and with him, he took the lives of fifty thousand cultivators.

Though Zhang Heng had won, he could not feel happy.

He deeply bowed to the tens of thousands of wandering souls that had escaped from the Ghost Saint Daoist’s body.

After moving Wu Hong, Yun Xiaotian, Qi Xuan, and the others to a safe place, Zhang Heng turned to the vast array before him and cast it a cold glance.

More than a dozen forms of the Heart-Guarding Sword were unleashed in succession.

Then he turned and departed with effortless grace. From this day forth, there would be no more Hundred Ghosts Gathering Yin Array in this world.

After taking their pills, Wu Hong and the others sat in meditation in a safe place, restoring their vital energy.

(The pills, of course, belonged to Wu Hong himself. Zhang Heng could not bear to give them his own.)

By then, Zhang Heng and Mu Wanqing had returned to the deepest chamber of the tomb.

Though the Ghost Saint Daoist was dead, the ghost cultivation methods he had left behind were all heretical and depraved. They could not be allowed to reach anyone else.

So Zhang Heng had to find them all and destroy them completely.

At last, after searching for the better part of half an hour, Zhang Heng found a great many scattered odds and ends left behind by the Ghost Saint Daoist. He could not be bothered to inspect them. After gathering everything together, he activated the Fire Origin Palm. With one strike, a sea of flames engulfed the place. Everything that could burn was reduced to ashes. Whatever could not be burned, Zhang Heng collected and kept for the time being, to dispose of later.

At this point, Zhang Heng and Mu Wanqing stood before the fire, their hearts finally easing somewhat.

Let this boundless blaze serve as farewell to the fallen cultivators.

“What is your name?” Mu Wanqing asked coldly, looking at Zhang Heng.

This girl really was icy.

Murong Qingxue’s temperament was one of quiet indifference, a disinterest in everything. This girl, however, was simply cold—a chill that kept others far away.

“My name is Zhang Heng,” Zhang Heng replied gently with a slight bow.

After learning his name, Mu Wanqing said nothing more. She turned and left.

Zhang Heng smiled faintly. This girl had quite a personality.

“Miss Mu, please wait,” Zhang Heng called out.

“You have more business with me?” Mu Wanqing turned back, asking in confusion.

“Meeting by chance is still fate. Let me give you a gift.”

Zhang Heng took a pill from his spatial ring and tossed it to Mu Wanqing.

“No need,” Mu Wanqing said flatly, then was about to throw it back to Zhang Heng.

“Ah, this pill’s main effect is repairing scars. If you want a wound to remain forever on your face, then go ahead and return it to me.”

Zhang Heng tilted his head and said it carelessly.

After a moment of silence, Mu Wanqing gave Zhang Heng a slight bow and softly said, “Thank you.” She accepted the pill and turned away.

No matter how cold your temperament may be, you are still a woman. And what woman in this world truly does not care about her appearance?

When Mu Wanqing fought the four Stone Men at the Void Return stage, she had been cut with many wounds all over her body, even on her face. Other miraculous healing medicines could, of course, also mend such injuries, but their effect was absolutely not as good as Zhang Heng’s pill.

A short while later, Zhang Heng rejoined Wu Hong and the others.

When Wu Hong saw Zhang Heng appear, he hurried forward and checked him over repeatedly, anxiously asking, “You’re all right, aren’t you, lad?”

“Don’t worry, Elder Wu. I wasn’t hurt,” Zhang Heng said with a reassuring smile.

Though the old man had his own motives, his concern for him was genuine, and Zhang Heng understood that.

“Not bad at all, Zhang Heng, lad,” Wu Hong said with a pleased grin after confirming Zhang Heng was unharmed. “You saved so many of us all by yourself. Good, very good.”

Qi Xuan and Yun Xiaotian also bowed to Zhang Heng.

“Brother Zhang, many thanks.”

“Thank you, Young Master Zhang.”

The other two Void Return cultivators said nothing, but they too gave Zhang Heng a deep bow.

Everyone was basking in the joy of surviving a calamity. But Zhang Heng’s face remained dark.

Though the Ghost Saint Daoist was dead, the traps and mechanisms he had left in the tomb were still there. More and more people were still arriving.

It seemed the number of those who died here would only continue to rise. This was a troubling problem indeed. How could he drive all these people away?