Past Grievances Laid to Rest

Ghost Does Not Kill, the old man.

It had sounded hair-raising at the time, but in retrospect, there was a touch of sorrow to it.

It was not that Ghost Does Not Kill was an old man, but that there was no resentment left in the old man's heart.

When a person lived to the end, he had already burned himself out.

These gray shadows were not monsters, but the sighs of a small town accumulated over decades.

Perhaps he understood now why those Soul Masters had died so peacefully.

"Guyun." He spoke softly, his voice so quiet that only the person behind him could hear. "I understand."

Yang Guyun did not turn around.

"These three rules are precisely what happened back then. They are merely collecting the debt of those days from the living."

"Got it."

He understood, so he knew what to do.

Since they were an aggregation of negative energy, all he needed was to purify them all at once with pure Soul Power of sufficient intensity.

Zhou Qiubai took a deep breath. The cold night wind filled his lungs, then he slowly exhaled, and the rise and fall of his chest gradually steadied.

He raised his head. Moonlight streamed through a gap in the clouds, illuminating the hands gripping his swords.

The glow of the White Clothes Sword gradually became translucent. It was no longer dazzling, but a nearly transparent pale blue, as thin as the first ray of dawn—cold without being frigid, faint without being weak.

The sword in his right hand gave off a soft hum, then the sword in his left hand began to resonate as well. The two swords trembled slightly at the same frequency. Soul Power began to circulate outward from his palms, and the tips of both swords slowly lifted