Yue'er's slender brows arched, her delicate face darkening. At that very moment, the faint sound of movement came from the entrance.
She hesitated briefly, then transformed into a streak of emerald light and shot toward the source of the spiritual fluctuation.
Although the young master had set up a powerful formation here—an ideal place to meet an enemy head-on—any battle within range would surely disturb his Core Formation process. Yue'er clenched her teeth. She would draw the intruder away, even if it meant danger to herself.
---
More than twenty miles away, within a barren stretch of desert, a beam of azure light suddenly came to a halt. The glow dissipated, revealing a middle-aged man in his thirties.
He wore the flowing robes of a Confucian scholar, his features handsome and his demeanor refined—one glance could stir goodwill in the hearts of others.
But appearances deceived.
This man was Zhao Shouguang, known among cultivators by a far darker title—The Scholar of Death. Though he practiced a proper Daoist cultivation method, even demonic cultivators admitted inferiority when it came to his ruthlessness and cunning.
He was a man of shifting moods, fond of slaughter and plunder.
Since his first step into the cultivation world, hundreds of low-level cultivators had perished beneath his hands.
His cultivation had already reached the Perfection of Foundation Establishment. Though he had yet to condense his Golden Core, with several formidable treasures at his disposal, ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators were no threat to him.
At this moment, Zhao Shouguang hovered midair, his gaze scanning the distant horizon. Just moments ago, an abnormal phenomenon had stirred the heavens—spiritual energy had surged wildly, then vanished without a trace.
An illusion? No.
He knew better.
There were only two explanations for such a disturbance: either a peerless treasure had been born… or a cultivator was attempting to form their Golden Core.
A gleam of greed flashed in his eyes. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips.
If it were a treasure, he would seize it.
If it were a Core Formation cultivator...
Then fortune had truly smiled upon him.
Judging by the disturbance, the cultivator was at the most critical stage of forming the core. Once successful, Zhao would not dare to provoke such a person—between the Core Formation and Foundation Establishment Realms, though separated by a single step, the gap was like heaven and earth.
But before success? The cultivator could not move.
An immobile prey, waiting to be slaughtered.
It must be a rogue cultivator, he thought. No one from a sect would dare to attempt Core Formation outside the protection of their mountain gates. The man had likely come to this desolate place to avoid being discovered. Yet fate had brought Zhao Shouguang to him.
A cruel grin twisted his face. The thought of playing with a future Core Formation cultivator sent a morbid thrill through him.
After all, though he had slain countless foes, never had he killed one so close to stepping into the next realm.
And such a cultivator's storage bag… would surely be brimming with riches.
Having made his decision, Zhao's body flared with blue light. He was about to streak across the sky when he suddenly stopped mid-flight, frowning.
In the distance, a streak of dazzling green light approached. Within moments, it halted before him.
The radiance faded, revealing a girl of seventeen or eighteen years. Her beauty was delicate and sweet, her jet-black hair falling like a waterfall to her knees.
Yet Zhao's expression stiffened in disbelief—
She had no shadow.
A ghost!
But how could a mere ghost walk beneath the noonday sun? Moreover, her spiritual aura was fierce—comparable to that of a late Foundation Establishment cultivator. Could it be…
His heart stirred. Zhao Shouguang was no fool; he had heard rumors that certain ghosts with unique constitutions could cultivate through the arts of the Ghost Dao.
Could this girl be one of them?
Yue'er's expression remained calm, but inwardly her heart sank. She hadn't expected this man's cultivation to be so formidable. Driving him away would not be easy.
A formidable foe indeed.
Zhao's eyes flickered with uncertainty. After a long pause, Yue'er spoke softly.
"Sir, behind me lies my master's forbidden area. Please, take another path."
"Take another path?" Zhao let out a cold snort, his gaze turning vicious.
Before Yue'er could react, she instinctively stepped back—
A flash of silver light sliced through the space she had just occupied. A short sword spirit tool, barely a foot long, gleamed with killing intent.
Zhao's eyes narrowed. Even as a mere servant, this ghost girl possessed a special constitution and a top-grade spirit tool. The thought made his greed burn hotter.
Since he had already revealed his intent, there was no need for more words. Delays could only lead to danger. He had planned to strike first and kill her instantly—but Yue'er's alertness had exceeded his expectations.
Having narrowly avoided the ambush, Yue'er's face grew pale. With a flick of her wrist, a jade bracelet floated before her, emanating a gentle luster.
Zhao's pupils contracted slightly. A top-grade Spirit Tool.
But Yue'er was far from done.
She brought her hands together into a strange seal and murmured an incantation under her breath.
The sky darkened. Black mist erupted around her body, writhing and coiling as if alive, its undulating motion chilling to behold.
Zhao's eyes flickered with unease. Though he had slain over a hundred cultivators, this was his first time facing a ghost cultivator.
It was said that practitioners of the Ghost Dao possessed terrifying magical arts, far beyond what ordinary cultivators of the same rank could endure.
He extended his spiritual sense—but it was instantly swallowed by the black mist, unable to penetrate.
Then, with Yue'er's chanting, the mist began to twist. Countless tiny bulges formed within it before bursting open. From each emerged a grotesque insect, each about the size of a thumb, its sharp mandibles glinting coldly.
They hovered above the dark clouds, numbering in the thousands.
Their movements were eerily lifelike—so vivid that one could scarcely believe they were mere constructs of ghostly power and spiritual energy.