Xiao Chen frowned deeply and reached into his storage pouch to retrieve a low-tier Fireball Talisman. Though he had expended more than 200 of them in recent battles, his reserves remained ample.
"Activate!"
With a small infusion of spiritual energy, he tossed the talisman forward. It glowed a bright red before disintegrating into ash, forming a fireball the size of a clenched fist.
"Go!"
He pointed ahead, sending the fireball hurtling toward the courtyard wall. Ever cautious, Xiao Chen quickly conjured a protective spiritual shield around himself and clutched a handful of talismans, ready for anything.
Boom!
The fireball struck the wall, leaving a scorched mark but no further reaction.
"It seems this place might be that woman's dwelling," Xiao Chen muttered to himself, his expression growing darker. "But who exactly is she? Both Wu Wanli and Chu Kuang referred to her as their master. Could she be the owner of this ancient cave dwelling?"
If so, Xiao Chen's predicament had become all the more perilous.
"It's best to leave this place as soon as possible. Even though she didn't display any spiritual energy, her depth is unfathomable. My spiritual sense, strong enough to rival a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator's, was suppressed in an instant. If not for the golden seal, I'd have been at her mercy. Her strength must be on par with, if not surpassing, that of a Golden Core cultivator!"
His face grim, Xiao Chen scanned the courtyard with his spiritual sense before cautiously moving toward the inner courtyard.
"Strike!"
The old woman's coarse voice carried through the cavern. Her face was set in a grimace as she faced dozens of ferocious specters. Her wrinkled hands moved in a rapid blur, weaving intricate and profound incantations.
Threads of dense spiritual energy coiled around her, their weight oppressive and suffused with malice.
The ghostly wails of the specters filled the air. Despite their low-frequency vibrations—inaudible to human ears—the old woman's face grew tense.
"Daoist Liu, lend me a hand! Once I complete this technique, I can easily eradicate these fiends," she called out, her voice edged with urgency.
"Understood!"
The rotund Daoist's breath came in labored pants, his expression tinged with redness. But he wasted no time, reaching into his storage pouch to produce a small black gourd. Its dull, unassuming appearance betrayed the fact that it was a rare spiritual artifact born of nature rather than crafted.
The Daoist hesitated briefly, a flash of reluctance crossing his face, but resolved to use it. Chanting under his breath, he infused it with spiritual energy. The gourd trembled, rapidly expanding until it reached half a meter in size.
With a crisp crack, the green vine at the top of the gourd fell away, revealing an inky black opening. Dark mist poured forth, enveloping both cultivators in a protective shroud.
"The Black-Gold Spirit Gourd!" the old woman exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with a mix of surprise and delight. "Daoist Liu, I didn't expect you to possess such an artifact. With its protection, we might even stand a chance against a ghost king!"
"Don't get complacent," the Daoist cautioned. "The gourd's defenses are limited. We must conserve its power and avoid wasting it on these lesser specters."
The old woman nodded solemnly, her hands forming increasingly complex seals. Her spiritual energy surged, coalescing into a massive ghostly claw several meters wide.
"Go!"
With a sharp command, the claw tore through the air, obliterating any specters in its path. Each destroyed ghost dissolved into pure Yin energy, which the claw absorbed, growing darker and more imposing as it barreled toward the depths of the cavern.
Deep underground, in an expansive blood-red chamber, the mysterious woman sat cross-legged atop a rune-etched jade platform. The blood-red lines on the platform pulsed like veins, squirming as if alive.
Her face was cold and resolute, a sharp contrast to her earlier allure.
"You thought you could seal me here forever," she muttered, her voice a chilling hiss. "But you never anticipated that I'd unravel the means to break free. While my physical body remains bound, my consciousness is no longer restricted. And now, these formations meant to imprison me will instead aid in my escape."
A twisted smile graced her lips as she closed her eyes. Suddenly, a pained expression flickered across her face as a translucent figure began to separate from her body. The specter grew more distinct with each passing second, until it stood fully formed—identical in appearance to the woman herself.
"Let the games begin," she said with a soft, melodic laugh before vanishing into the shadows.
Xiao Chen regained consciousness slowly, finding himself lying on the ground within a picturesque courtyard. Pretending to remain unconscious, he stilled his breathing and extended his spiritual sense.
The courtyard was eerily quiet, enclosed on all sides with no apparent exit. Its serene beauty was at odds with the oppressive atmosphere.
After several moments of silence, Xiao Chen opened his eyes cautiously. He remained rooted in place, scanning his surroundings with heightened vigilance.
"An enclosed courtyard with no discernible spiritual fluctuations," he murmured, frowning. "Could this really be a physical space, or is it some kind of illusionary array?"
To test his theory, Xiao Chen retrieved a talisman from his storage pouch.
Meanwhile, deep in the cavern, the corpulent Daoist and the old woman had finally broken through another wave of specters. But their faces were pale, and their breaths were labored.
"How many more of these damned ghosts can there be?" the old woman growled, her tone laced with frustration and unease.
The Daoist wiped sweat from his brow, his normally calm demeanor cracking under the strain. "We must keep moving. If we linger too long, more powerful entities may appear."
As if in response, the air grew colder, and a series of unearthly wails echoed from the depths.
The old woman's expression darkened. "Let's hope we don't run into a ghost king. If we do, even the Black-Gold Spirit Gourd won't save us."
The Daoist's lips tightened into a thin line as he nodded grimly. With a surge of determination, the two cultivators pressed onward, their auras flaring to keep the encroaching darkness at bay.
Far ahead, in the heart of the cavern, the specter of the mysterious woman reappeared, her expression one of cold amusement.
"Fools," she whispered. "Keep struggling. The more you fight, the closer I come to freedom."