"… The 'Ghost General', it's the 'Ghost General', it's Wen Ning!"
The title of the "Ghost General" was as infamous as that of the YiLing Patriarch's. Most of the time, the two appeared together.
The word only referred one person—the right-hand man of the YiLing Patriarch Wei Ying, who had helped with the tyrant's crimes, stirred up wind and waves, played the jackal to the tiger, overturned the world with him, and most of all, was a fierce corpse who should have been turned into ashes a long time ago—Wen Ning!
Wen Ning's head was slightly lowered and his arms hung down, as if he was a marionette waiting for the orders of his master.
His face was pale and delicate, and could be considered handsome in a melancholy sort of way. However, there were no pupils in his eyes, but only a flat cloud of white, along with a number of black, cracking lines which climbed up his face from his neck, so the melancholy turned into a frightening gloom. The lower hem and sleeves of his robe were ragged and torn, showing a pair of wrists that were the same ashen shade as his face, with black cuffs and chains on both his wrists and ankles. The tinkling sound was produced when he dragged the iron chains on the ground. If he stopped moving, everything would be silent again.
It wasn't hard to guess why all of the cultivators were scared out of their wits. Wei WuXian wasn't any calmer than any of them either. In fact, the storm in his chest had already crashed over the top of his head.
It wasn't that Wen Ning shouldn't be here, but that Wen Ning shouldn't be in this world at all. He was turned into ashes even before the siege at Luanzang Hill.
Hearing the others call Wen Ning's name, Jin Ling's blade, which originally pointed at the direction of the soul-consuming goddess, couldn't help but to turn toward another direction. Seeing that he was distracted, the soul-consuming goddess gladly extended her arm and picked him up.
As Wei WuXian saw her opened mouth approaching Jin Ling, he didn't have time to be surprised. He raised the wooden flute again, hands slightly shaking, and therefore, the notes that he played also trembled. Aside from this, the flute was roughly crafted, so the sound produced could be described as coarse and unpleasant to the ear. With two notes, Wen Ning started to move.
Within the blink of an eye, he had already shifted in front of the soul-consuming goddess. Wen Ning used the side of his palm and gave a blow. The soul-consuming goddess's neck cracked, and although her body didn't move, her head was twisted around because of the force. She faced the direction of which her back originally faced, but kept on smiling. Wen Ning gave another blow with his hand, and the soul-consuming goddess's right hand, which was holding Jin Ling, was cleanly cut off.
She bowed her head to look at the wrist which broke off sharply. Instead of turning her head toward the correct direction, her entire body turned around, so that she was facing Wen Ning with her face and her back. Wei WuXian didn't dare to relax. He took a deep breath and commanded Wen Ning to fight. However, not long had passed, and he became even more shocked.
Low-level corpses were unable to think on their own and needed his orders to lead them. Powerful fierce corpses, on the other hand, were usually delirious or unconscious. Yet, Wen Ning's case was different—he was created by Wei WuXian, which meant that he could easily be called the strongest fierce corpse in the current world. He was the only one who was capable of thought. Aside from not fearing injuries, fire, the cold, poison, and whatever living humans feared, he was the same as a one.
However, at that moment, Wen Ning clearly wasn't conscious!
He was both shocked and doubtful as a few cries of alarm came threshing from the crowd. Using both his arms and legs, Wen Ning had secured the soul-consuming goddess on the ground. He picked up a rock which lay on the side, taller than the height of humans, and lifted it above the soul-consuming goddess. He started to slam it onto her with great force. Each strike sounded as loud as thunder, continuing until the stone body of the soul-consuming goddess was pounded to pieces!
Amid the white pile of rocks scattered on the ground, a marble-sized sphere rolled out, radiating a circle of light in the colour of snow. It was the core that condensed in the soul-consuming goddess after she devoured the souls of ten-or-so living people. If it was brought back and handled carefully, some people, who had their souls eaten recently, could be restored back to life. However, at the moment, nobody made any effort to pick up the sphere. The blades which were aimed at the soul-consuming goddess all turned around.
One cultivator shouted at the top of his lungs, "Close in on him!"
Some people replied hesitantly, but more people were indecisive, walking backward slowly. The cultivator shouted again, "Fellow cultivators, we have to block him so that he doesn't escape. This is Wen Ning we're facing!"
These words convinced the crowd. What was a mere soul-consuming monster compared to the Ghost General? Although the reason as to his appearance was unknown, it was obvious that killing one thousand soul-consuming spirits couldn't even compare to capturing one single Wen Ning. After all, this was the most obeying mad dog under the YiLing Patriarch, which bit people without making any noise. If it was captured, they would surely become famous in the cultivation world and quickly rise to success! Their original goal from attending the Dafan Mountain night-hunt was to fight for fairies, beasts, and evil spirits to add to their experiences. With the shouts, it was certain that some people were interested. Yet, the older cultivators who saw with their own eyes how wild Wen Ning was when he broke out were still cautious to make a move. Hence, the person shouted once more, "What are you scared of? It's not as if the YiLing Patriarch is here right now."
After another thought, the words made sense to them. What was there to be scared of? His master was already in pieces!
With these remarks, the ring of swords which circled around Wen Ning had suddenly decreased in size. Wen Ning waved his arm, and the black iron chains swept past heavily, hitting the swords so that the directions of their blades slanted off to the side. Right afterward, he took a stride forward and gripped the neck of the person closest to him. With a light pull, he was lifted off the ground. Seeing the situation, Wei WuXian knew that the flute notes were too hurried and abrupt, causing him to develop a killing intent. To stifle it, Wei WuXian calmed his feelings and assuredly played another melody.
The melody had drifted over his mind naturally. It was relaxed and tranquil, contrasting with the bizarre and ear-piercing one from before. Hearing the sound, Wen Ning froze, and slowly turned toward the direction of which the melody came from. Wei WuXian stood in the same spot, staring into his pupil-less eyes.