Slaying Men and Ghosts

Slaying Men, Slaying Ghosts

"Wheeeee—

Inhuman shrieks suddenly burst from the mouths of the seven bizarre figures.

Then, one by one, those ghostly shadows gripped long halberds, wrapped in bone-piercing yin winds, and lunged at Zhang Sanxian—soundlessly, yet swift as lightning.

Before the halberd blades even arrived, waves of sinister chill had already swept over him, causing clusters of ghostly blue frost flowers to bloom abruptly in the air around him. At the same time, within the shadows cast by the strange rocks in every direction, seven black figures brimming with killing intent followed close behind the specters, pouncing on Zhang Sanxian in perfect silence. These unfamiliar shadows moved with astonishing speed and seamless coordination. Three wielded murky green daggers, driving straight for the vital point between Zhang Sanxian's shoulder blades; two thrust water-separating spikes at both his knees.

Of the remaining two, one lashed out with a long whip, coiling toward his staff-wielding right hand like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, while the other raised a demon-head saber high overhead and brought it crashing down with the force to split mountains and shatter stone.

Their target was not only Zhang Sanxian, but also little Fangzheng, crying bare-bottomed on his back.

It had to be said—this killing trap was simply flawless.

Even a peak Matter-Forgetting Rank expert, if placed in this situation, would suffer grievous wounds even if they survived. Nor could they protect the infant in their arms.

Yet, faced with this killing trap, Zhang Sanxian did not evade. Instead, he advanced straight into it.

His right hand resting on the blind man's cane lifted lightly.

Clang!

A clear, frigid sword cry, as though it could sever every demon and phantom in the world, abruptly rang out, utterly drowning the howling wind and wailing ghosts all around.

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