"What's that sound?"
Lei Tiger, who had been resting with his eyes closed, snapped them open, his brows knitting tight.
He didn't panic. Instead, he listened for a moment, and his expression darkened slightly.
From the sound of it, this didn't seem like an enemy had come knocking. It was more like... something eerie had happened.
He didn't rush outside. Instead, he turned and walked over to the statue of Guan Gong enshrined behind the main hall.
The statue wasn't an ordinary clay figure. It was cast from black iron and was quite heavy.
On the altar table in front of it, three sticks of incense burned with straight trails of smoke, clearly replaced not long ago.
Lei Tiger reached out with his fan-sized hand and gripped the shaft of the Green Dragon Crescent Blade in the iron statue's hands. With a hard twist—
"Click."
A mechanism clicked softly. The statue, along with its base, slowly slid half a foot to the side, revealing a narrow hidden compartment in the wall behind it.
There was no gold or silver in the compartment, only a long object wrapped in layers of dark red oilcloth.
Lei Tiger unwrapped the oilcloth. Inside was a blade!
Its blade was broad and heavy, with a dark blood groove running along its edge.
Its spine was thick, its hilt long enough to be held in both hands, and its pommel was cast in the shape of a savage ghost's head.
The whole blade was a dull, inky black. Even lying still, it gave off a chilling, baleful aura that made one's heart tremble.
It was a Ghost Head Blade!
It wasn't the kind favored by martial artists of the jianghu. This was the sort of blade once used by executioners on the old execution grounds to carry out beheadings!
No one knew how many desperate criminals this blade had decapitated. It had drunk its fill of blood and gathered the fear and resentment of countless condemned men in their final moments.
Its baleful aura was so strong that ordinary people felt cold all over and uneasy in its presence.
By chance, years ago, Lei Tiger had paid a hefty sum to acquire this blade and the cultivation manual of the Execution Sect from a destitute descendant of an hereditary executioner.
Unfortunately, the manual was perilous to practice, and he had never dared to try. So the blade had remained sealed away until now.
The executioner's descendant had once told him that the blade had taken over a hundred heads, and its baleful aura had already taken shape.
Ordinary evil spirits wouldn't dare come near it, but whoever wielded it needed a strong fate and firm resolve—or the blade would turn on them.
Lei Tiger considered himself decisive in killing and steeped in baleful aura, so he was well suited to it. He had kept it hidden as his final trump card.
Not even Scarface or Mr. Xu knew about it.
He grabbed the Ghost Head Blade.
It was heavy and icy in his hand, the patterns on its hilt digging into his palm.
The baleful aura crept up his arm, sharpening his senses. He could almost smell an invisible reek of blood in the air.
He drew a deep breath, suppressing the restlessness stirred by the blade's aura, then strode toward the commotion with the blade in hand.
He had just reached the moon gate leading to the side courtyard when he saw the chaos within.
Several lanterns had been knocked over, leaving the courtyard dim.
Several normally fearsome gang members were now pale as ghosts, scrambling backward on hands and feet, the blades and clubs in their hands trembling.
In the middle of the courtyard, Scarface and two or three of his gutsier henchmen were barely managing to surround... something indescribable!
The thing vaguely retained a human shape, but kept twisting and writhing. Its whole body was made of thick, gray-black smoke.
Its face had no clear features, only several black holes that kept sinking in and bulging out, like a twisted mouth and eye sockets.
Gray-black yin energy rolled off it. Wherever it passed, a thin layer of white frost formed on the ground.
"Ah!!"
A gang member who failed to dodge in time was grazed on the calf by a wisp of the gray-black yin energy and let out a scream that didn't sound human.
His entire lower leg instantly turned bluish-black and rigid. The flesh shriveled before their eyes, as if all its vitality had been drained away.
"Lord Scar! We can't hit it! The blade went straight through!"
One of his henchmen worked up the courage to swing his blade with all his might. But the heavy-backed cleaver passed right through the gray-black figure, as if it had struck a cloud of icy fog.
A layer of white frost instantly formed on the blade. Bone-chilling cold shot up his arm and straight to his heart, and his face turned deathly pale as he stumbled backward.
Scarface himself was in a wretched state. He wielded an even heavier cleaver, its blade whistling as he fought desperately to protect himself. Yet all he could do was force the thing back a little, temporarily.
The gray-black figure seemed to be toying with him. It didn't rush to attack, but every time it brushed past him, the icy chill made him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. The scar on his face twisted with terror; all his usual ferocity was gone.
"Useless lot!"
Lei Tiger barked, his voice rumbling like thunder as he forcibly tamped down some of the panic in the courtyard.
But the moment he saw the gray-black figure, his own expression turned grave.
The thing's viciousness far surpassed that of any unclean creature he had encountered in his younger days.
He strode forward, dragging the Ghost Head Blade at his side.
As he drew closer, the gray-black figure seemed to sense a greater threat.
The gray-black yin energy around it abruptly surged, boiling like ink as it hurtled toward Lei Tiger's face at several times its previous speed!
The sinister wind howled, accompanied by faint cries like ghosts wailing and wolves howling!
Lei Tiger's pupils contracted. He didn't dare let his guard down for an instant.
He gave a low growl, tensing every muscle as his blood and qi surged.
Gripping the Ghost Head Blade in both hands, he swung it diagonally upward in a plain, unadorned slash, pouring all his strength into the blow.
The blade cut through the air with a mournful whistle. This wasn't internal energy or astral force. It was the tangible baleful aura, forged by the blade through a hundred executions, exploding forth!
"Shhk—!"
This time, the blade didn't cut through empty air.
The instant it touched the gray-black figure, a violent reaction erupted, like red-hot iron plunged into ice water.
A shrill hissing sound of corrosion rang through the courtyard!
"Ugh—!!!"
The gray-black figure let out a scream of agony so piercing it seemed to reach the heavens!
Its solidified body of yin energy was seared open by the Ghost Head Blade's baleful aura, leaving a massive gap as the gray-black smoke roiled violently.
But the thing was more tenacious than anyone could have imagined. Its remaining yin energy surged back furiously, spreading up the blade as it tried to eat away at the one holding it!
Lei Tiger felt an icy, bone-deep intent rush from the hilt into his arm, striking straight for his heart.
White frost instantly coated his arm. His muscles stiffened, and his blood and qi nearly froze.
Worse still, phantoms erupted in his mind. He seemed to see countless twisted, anguished faces wailing at him.
"Get the hell—off me!"
Lei Tiger's eyes bulged as he roared.
The veins on his forehead stood out. Relying on the ferocious nature honed through years of bloody fighting, he forcibly suppressed the resentment gnawing at his mind.
He bit through the tip of his tongue. A metallic sweetness spread through his mouth, jolting his senses. At the same time, his arm muscles swelled to their limit. Ignoring the pain and numbness, he poured all his blood and qi into the Ghost Head Blade!
"Break!"
The Ghost Head Blade gleamed brighter, its baleful aura surging once more.
"Poof!"
The remaining gray-black figure could no longer withstand the Executioner Sha Qi, which was the bane of all yin and evil. It burst apart completely.
It scattered into a sky full of drifting black ash, which quickly dissolved into the air, leaving only a layer of ice chips on the ground and a nauseating stench of rot and decay.
The courtyard fell silent in an instant, broken only by the people's ragged, frightened breaths.
Lei Tiger stood holding the blade, his chest heaving. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead, and his hands trembled slightly around the hilt.
The white frost coating the backs of his hands and arms slowly receded, leaving behind a patch of unnatural blue-purple.
His face had turned somewhat green. That slash might have seemed to end the fight in a single stroke, but it had been perilous. He had not only expended a great deal of blood and qi; he had nearly let the ghost's resentment consume his mind.
The Ghost Head Blade was sharp, but for a wielder like him, who had never practiced the Execution Sect's legacy, it was an enormous burden.
"Damn it... What the hell was that thing?"
Still shaken, Lei Tiger glanced at the gang members lying on the ground, some dead and others who might still be alive. His expression darkened terribly.
That definitely wasn't some wandering ghost formed naturally!
"B-Boss! It's... it's back!"
A gang member with a slight cross-eye pointed toward the shadows beyond the moon gate, his voice shaking uncontrollably.