The white-haired old man, Qiong Wuliang, held a stone stele the size of a phone. Black mist rose from it. It had to be the Slave Stele from the ancient tomb.
As he activated the Slave Stele, a chill swept through the entire house.
Braided ghosts appeared inside and outside, one after another.
They were clearly the Ghost Servants driven out of the Qing Dynasty official's tomb.
I looked at the scene with disdain.
I'd seen plenty of bigger spectacles. Watching a few dozen lesser ghosts surround us almost made me laugh.
These small fry weren't a threat. Whether they could even get close to us was another question.
I smiled at Qiong Wuliang across from me.
"Old man, if you've got any tricks, you'd better use them all! Once I make my move, you won't get another chance."
I didn't think much of him.
A young man with a broken arm immediately spoke up.
"Uncle, my arm's broken! Don't let them off. Make them wish they were dead!"
"Uncle, show him what you can do. Let's see if he keeps talking tough!"
Fatty Qiong joined in.
Qiong Wuliang gripped the Slave Stele.
"Such arrogance from someone so young. If you've come looking for death, I'll oblige! Appear!"
With that, he visibly channeled True Qi into the Slave Stele.
The ghostly energy around the braided ghosts grew stronger.
The chill in the house deepened, enveloping us.
One by one, the braided ghosts took shape and became visible to the naked eye.
One, two, three, four...
In the blink of an eye, dozens crowded the room.
They bared their claws and teeth from every corner.
Staring at us, they let out low, beastlike growls.
The thugs Zhang Yuchen had injured stared in horror.
"Ah! What are those?"
"G-ghosts?"
"There are ghosts!