Old Crow's Night Talk, Red Robe Transforms into Banner

The youth hesitated, looking at the person in the coffin. "What is it?"

"Don't tell anyone you met me. Don't tell anyone you ate this bead."

The voice from the coffin suddenly turned chilling. The youth felt a coldness in his heart and involuntarily took a step back. But the person in the coffin raised a hand and tossed the bead over. The youth caught it instinctively. The person in the coffin looked at him coldly again. "Can you do it?"

The bead in his hand pulsed with light, making the youth's face flicker in and out of visibility. But thinking of the dragon boat and the girl who was taken away, the youth no longer hesitated. He raised his head, looked at the person in the coffin, and nodded forcefully.

"It wasn't a waste of words. You can have this treasure for now." Watching the youth bring the bead to his mouth, an imperceptible joy flickered in the coffin dweller's gray-white pupils.

Amidst the dark, desolate graves, the bead, still swirling with light, was still a foot away from the youth's face, yet it already cast a deep blue glow upon it. Moreover, only a few feet away stood the person in the coffin, completely shrouded in a crimson robe, with even their eyeballs a dull gray. The scene was unspeakably bizarre. But the more unsettling it was, the more determined the youth became to swallow the bead. He had never seen such a miraculous object, and he felt that if the person in the coffin wanted to harm him, it would be as simple as lifting a finger, not requiring such a roundabout method of wasting a precious bead.

"How laughable, how laughable. To think a Dharma King of Lanke Temple has fallen to the point of deceiving a mere mountain child..." Suddenly, from the disordered mound, a voice echoed, long and distant, as if someone were chanting melodiously from afar. Yet, the voice sounded dry and strange, as if a piece of brittle paper were caught in their throat.

A dark silhouette shot out from a few flickering ghost fires and stopped with a rustle on a broken tombstone not far away. The dry, strange voice emanated from this dark figure. The resolute and brave youth looked in the direction of the sound. Upon seeing it, he could no longer contain himself, and a bone-chilling coldness surged through him. With a cry, he gasped in alarm.

The source of that strange voice was an old crow with entirely black wings!

Ghost fires flickered, a wild graveyard, and an old crow speaking human words. This was yet another incredibly unbelievable event for the youth. As he cried out, his palms grew slick with cold sweat, his mind a complete blank, unable to process what the crow was saying. But the red-robed figure in the coffin remained unfazed. Without even looking at the crow, he tilted his head slightly towards the sky and said calmly, "A remarkable technique that attaches itself to the six senses. I didn't expect you to find me so quickly."

"You've been struck by my senior brother's Soul Erosion Demonic Spell. This place of extreme yin is most disadvantageous to you. I didn't expect you to hide here either," the crow continued in its peculiar tone. In the western sky, a black mist had inexplicably formed, thick as ink, churning like a black dragon in the night sky. The person in the coffin stared indifferently at the black mist. In an instant, the mist descended, and a gale swept through. When the wind died down, the youth saw a gaunt man standing in the clearing. The man had a face tinged with smugness and mockery, his entire body concealed within a dark robe. In his right hand, he held a short, white staff riddled with holes, adorned with intricate, obscure, and ancient golden patterns that inspired awe.

"First, put him in a desperate situation before he can be reborn. Conceal the Mò Chà Pearl's aura with a secret technique, then let this mountain child swallow it. Even if he drops dead before our eyes, we'll never suspect the Mò Chà Pearl is inside him. Kongtong, you old scoundrel, your plan is quite something." After the black-robed figure appeared, the old crow, as if startled, cawed and flew away. Compared to the crow's voice, the black-robed man's voice was a hundred times more pleasant to hear. Yet, the youth felt the situation growing increasingly sinister and bizarre. The black-robed man's gaze suddenly fell upon him, and he commanded, "You ignorant brat, courting death! Hand over what you have to me! If you swallow it, the pearl will take root inside you, draining all your blood essence. Then, when this old ghost has recovered, he'll cut open your stomach and take the pearl to escape."

Unsure if the black-robed man was telling the truth, the youth couldn't help but turn to look at the person in the coffin. The pale face in the coffin remained expressionless. "Miro, you're spouting utter nonsense. The Mò Chà Pearl is merely cold in nature. At most, it will cause internal coldness and blockages. How could it drain one's entire blood essence? Furthermore, if I wanted to retrieve the pearl, why would I resort to such a cruel method as disembowelment?"

If his abdomen froze, how could he possibly live? Although the person in the coffin claimed he wouldn't use cruel methods, his words were undeniably cruel and venomous. The youth's body stiffened instantly. However, the black-robed man didn't engage in a war of words with the person in the coffin. He let out a cold laugh, waved his left hand, and a black cloud of energy surged directly towards the youth.

With a "boom," a red light instantly erupted from the coffin dweller's hand, shattering the black energy into pieces. The scattered shockwaves pushed the standing youth back five or six steps, causing him to stumble and fall near the grave beside the coffin. Miro, the black-robed man, laughed heartily when his attack missed. "So much nonsense. After all this talk, aren't you just going to fight?"

After a head-on clash with Miro, the person in the coffin's complexion grew even paler. But upon hearing Miro's cackling laughter, the coffin dweller merely let out a cold smile. He clenched his left hand, and the red robe he wore suddenly flew off, splitting into six pieces that landed on either side of the coffin, protecting both him and the youth. It was then that the youth realized the blood-red robe the coffin dweller wore was actually six blood-red banners. As soon as these six banners were deployed, the surrounding graveyard was bathed in a brilliant red light. The youth felt an oppressive heat. The golden threads, like electric snakes, shot from the short staff in the black-robed man's hand. Upon contact with the red light, they instantly shattered into fine golden sparks. In an instant, the red light intensified. The blood-red banners seemed to grow upon seeing the wind, slowly rising to become banners twelve to thirteen feet tall. Within them, with sounds like cracking bones, the dense red light suddenly coalesced into a demonic face with horns, four eyes, and sharp teeth, floating above the coffin dweller's head as if it were solid.

"Well, old ghost, I didn't expect that tattered red robe of yours to be such a treasure," Miro chuckled sinisterly. He pointed his short staff at the sky. "Wait," the person in the coffin suddenly called out, "Think carefully about where we are before you attack me."

Miro paused, then asked, "Where are we?"

"You don't even recognize Shushan?" The person in the coffin pointed to the vaguely visible dark, looming mountains in the distance and said with a cold laugh, "We're less than a hundred miles from the Shushan sect's gate. If you want to kill me, aren't you afraid of the Shushan disciples noticing? And you must have seen Kunlun's Ground-Leaving Flame Light Boat just now, haven't you?"

"Kongtong, you old scoundrel, so this was your plan." Miro's eyes darted around, and he began to laugh. "No wonder you didn't run towards your sect's direction but hid in this place, making it hard for my senior brother to find you. But after all this time, you're still sitting in a coffin. You must be at the end of your rope, your lower body practically rotting away, unable to even leave the coffin? So what if the people from Shushan and Kunlun find out? By the time they get here, I'll have already killed you and left. How about this: if you can stand up from that coffin, I won't make a move. If you can't, then stop your nonsense." With that, he slashed his short staff, and a ghostly howl emanated from the holes on the staff. The sky instantly churned with black waves, and a giant black claw flashed, then transformed into thousands of streams of black flames cascading down.

The person in the coffin's expression changed drastically. This person was originally Kongtong, the Dharma King of Nanyue's Lanke Temple. By chance, he had obtained the Mò Chà Pearl, only to be encountered by Miro's senior brother, Hetu. Miro and Hetu were disciples of Yin Xiao Daoist, a rogue cultivator from Beimang, not members of the orthodox path. The small Lanke Temple was not even on their radar. Moreover, Hetu, who recognized the pearl's value, knew it was tied to a great secret. To cultivators like them, it was more precious than a handy magic artifact. Thus, Hetu naturally moved to seize it. In the ensuing battle, Kongtong was no match for Hetu and was severely wounded, forcing him to flee. However, Kongtong was extremely cold-minded and meticulous. He calculated that with his injuries, he would be intercepted by Hetu before Lanke Temple's reinforcements could arrive. Therefore, he deliberately fled in the opposite direction, heading to this mass grave less than a hundred miles from Shushan. Hetu's Soul Erosion Demonic Spell was an extremely insidious technique. Those afflicted by it would have their souls invaded by yin energy, and they could only find places of extreme yang to slowly expel the yin and heal. A place as eerie and filled with heavy yin as this would only worsen his injuries. In this way, Kongtong successfully evaded Hetu's pursuit. He hid here, awaiting the arrival of an old friend for assistance. He hadn't expected Kunlun to somehow learn of the Mò Chà Pearl's appearance and covet it as well, searching for it everywhere. Although Kongtong had concealed his aura with a secret technique and had not been discovered, he was sweating profusely. Upon hearing the youth's mournful cries, a sudden inspiration struck him: he would trick the youth into swallowing the Mò Chà Pearl. That way, even if he were found, if the Mò Chà Pearl couldn't be located, the other party wouldn't dare harm him immediately, buying him time for his old friend to arrive. However, Kongtong hadn't anticipated being caught by Miro precisely when he was trying to trick the youth into eating the Mò Chà Pearl. Furthermore, although Miro's cultivation was not as high as Hetu's, he was just as shrewd and ruthless, completely unmoved by Kongtong's words, and immediately resorted to action.

"Go!" The six red banners blazed with intense red light. But Kongtong was already at the end of his strength. The arrow-like black flames dissipated upon contact with the red banners' light, emitting only popping sounds. However, Kongtong felt as if he had been electrocuted, his mind severely shaken. The six red banners swayed erratically, and the ghost face that had just formed seemed on the verge of being dispersed.

"Kongtong, old ghost, if you give me the Mò Chà Pearl now, I can spare your life." Miro's cultivation technique was extremely sinister, and he was not as pedantic as many of the righteous sects. As he laughed maniacally, he didn't hesitate. Before the black flames had vanished, a spinning silver sphere was thrown from his hand, hurtling towards the faltering six red banners.

This silver sphere was a unique magic artifact of Yin Xiao Daoist, named the Thunder-Commanding Silver Bead. Yin Xiao Daoist had refined it in a dan furnace using large amounts of silver, lead, mercury, tin, platinum, and essence from East Sea gold, imbuing it with talismanic magic. It had been refined through the Five Thunder Orthodox Method, and each strike weighed over a thousand jun. It could also release stored lightning and possessed numerous demon-dispelling properties. Yin Xiao Daoist had refined a total of four such beads; Miro's senior brother, Hetu, also possessed one. During Kongtong's previous confrontation with Hetu, he had suffered greatly from this bead. Seeing Miro hurl the bead, Kongtong, who was already struggling to hold on, felt his mind shatter. While forcing his hands to form a mudra, he bit his tongue and spat a mouthful of blood mixed with his vital essence onto the red banners before him.

In an instant, the red banners burst with crackling sounds. The spectral entity floating above Kongtong's head materialized and shot out, carrying intense firelight, striking towards Miro.

"A cornered beast still fights!" Miro sneered and suddenly floated into the air. As the spectral entity charged out, the continuously spinning silver bead emitted astonishing crackling sounds. Silver arcs of lightning coiled outwards, instantly transforming into dazzling pillars of electricity as thick as a child's arm. Within a radius of one mile, electric light flashed and pulsed, resembling a storm. The densely interwoven lightning struck the spectral entity and the red banners.