Chapter Fourteen: The Five Ghost Sons

They had no choice but to laboriously carry the earthen jar to a patch of open ground directly opposite the butcher’s shop, where a small area was bathed in sunlight.

The three specters halted their feasting, turning their bodies in unison to fix their gaze on Zhou Bai and his companion, making their scalps prickle with unease.

Ordinarily, when faced with the threat of their spirit vessels being destroyed, these entities would fly into a frenzy, not stare at them with such eerie intent.

Daoist Hou, encountering such a situation for the first time, could not help but swallow hard. “Damn it, it’s just a bluff. Smash it!”

Though the blazing sun shone down, Zhou Bai still felt a chill creeping over him. After a brief hesitation, he drew the butcher’s blade from his waist and brought its spine down forcefully on the earthen jar.

A crisp crack rang out—the vessel was far less sturdy than they had imagined. Its surface split with countless fissures before shattering entirely, the fragments scattering across the ground.

A foul, moldy stench wafted out, so strange and rotten that it made one retch.

The contents of the jar were laid bare before them: the pale bones of a child, no more than three or four years old, tumbled out. The bones were covered in black runes, and nothing else was inside.

“Daoist Hou, what’s going on?” Zhou Bai could no longer ignore the strangeness of the situation. Anxiety surged in his chest as he backed away, eyes fixed on the ghostly shapes.

Watching from the shadows, Lin Danian drew in a sharp breath. Even he could not identify these specters, but he was certain they were not simply vengeful ghosts—at least they had not yet grown into true monsters.

Daoist Hou’s face had turned pale. He hadn’t anticipated such deep waters, and it was fortunate this was happening in broad daylight, when ghosts were less uninhibited than at night.

“The Five-Child Malice… damn it, one of them must be a true Five-Child Ghost.”

According to the records, the Five-Child Malice was unimaginably cruel: after the simultaneous deaths of five women born on the same day, their remains were ground into powder, and curses inscribed onto the body of a boy who had died young.

If buried deep underground, this would give rise to four common spirits and one Five-Child Ghost.

Once the Five-Child Ghost devoured the others, it would transform into a true fiend.

But with the destruction of the bones in the jar, the Five-Child Ghost lost its binding tether and thus entered its transformation prematurely. Its power was greatly diminished, but it still far surpassed that of an ordinary wraith.

At this moment, the Five-Child Ghost’s transformation was complete. Horns sprouted from its head, its body swelling larger. It seized the other two spirits and tore them apart with brute force.

Amid shrill screams, the two ghosts dissolved into black mist and were sucked into the true ghost’s belly, causing its form to swell again—now towering over two meters tall.

Daoist Hou pulled several talismans from his robes, his expression grave. “There’s no way we can run. Fortunately, this Five-Child Malice has emerged early. As long as it hasn’t gained full sentience…”

The Five-Child Ghost gave a sinister grin, then melted into the shadows at the corner of the wall.

“It’s obvious it’s waiting for nightfall to settle accounts with us,” Zhou Bai said, gripping his butcher’s blade. Forced to the brink, only a desperate resolve remained in his heart.

He immediately opened his Yin-Yang eyes and saw the Five-Child Ghost curled up, slinking along the shadows, about to slip away through the alley’s corner.

Zhou Bai surged forward, legs propelling him after the Five-Child Ghost.

He still had some confidence in the daylight, but once night fell, they’d be nothing more than fish on the chopping block.

“Damn!”

Daoist Hou clamped a thunder talisman between his fingers and chased after him. Luckily, he had activated his Celestial Eye in advance and could just barely make out the ghost’s shadowy form.

Lin Danian, perched on the rooftop, his skin faintly flushed, stepped lightly onto the eaves and followed without leaving a trace.

The Five-Child Ghost, sensing Zhou Bai behind it, let out a piercing howl. Instead of fleeing, it turned to fight, choosing instinctively.

On a narrow path, the brave win the day. At this point, Zhou Bai had no thought of retreat.

He shifted his body slightly, and a ghostly claw swept past, the gust it stirred stinging his cheek.

He brought the butcher’s blade down on the Five-Child Ghost’s chest—a stroke born of mastery in the art of slaughter, so swift it left an afterimage, the force of the blade whipping his coat into a frenzy.

The Five-Child Ghost had not expected such decisiveness and was struck squarely.

A sizzling, crackling sound came from the specter’s body, like butter melting on a hot pan.

It proved that even a blade meant for livestock, after a century of bloody use, bore a murderous energy potent enough to wound spirits—whereas ordinary weapons, no matter how sharp, could scarcely harm them.

The Five-Child Ghost’s form visibly faded, and through the Yin-Yang eyes, its ghostly aura wavered.

Zhou Bai remained on guard—such a creature could not be finished so easily.

Sure enough, as he tried to pull the blade free, he found it stuck fast, as if mired in quicksand, the ghost’s body clamping it tight.

The Five-Child Ghost seized the chance and raked its sharp bone talons across Zhou Bai’s chest, leaving a deep wound that laid bare the bone.

Zhou Bai staggered back just in time. Though the injury was not fatal, a numbness radiated from the wound—proof that the ghost’s yin energy was beginning to corrode his body.

He abandoned the butcher’s blade, scrambling away in a desperate tumble to evade the next blow.

Several times, Daoist Hou tried to strike the Five-Child Ghost with his talismans, but the specter was simply too fast. Fearing he’d hit Zhou Bai by mistake, he focused on disrupting the ghost instead.

Seeing his opponent so battered, the Five-Child Ghost grinned from ear to ear, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. A tongue, long and serpentine, flicked out.

With a whoosh, that tongue lashed toward Zhou Bai’s throat like a shadow.

Goosebumps prickled all over Zhou Bai’s skin. In that instant, he felt the long-lost chill of impending death. He tried to dodge, but his body lagged behind his will.

Just as the ghost’s tongue was about to pierce his neck, a powerful hand seized it.

Lin Danian arrived in the nick of time. He shoved Zhou Bai aside, bellowed in fury, and his muscles swelled, veins bulging across his skin.

Man and monster clashed. The ghost was faster and stronger than any ordinary man, but before Lin Danian, it fell into disadvantage.

Through Zhou Bai’s Yin-Yang eyes, the burly figure before him radiated an aura no weaker than the Five-Child Ghost’s, surging from his heart through his whole body.

“Stand aside!” Daoist Hou joined the fray, muttering an incantation as he thrust his finger forward. A thunder talisman ignited in a flash of fire from his fingertip.

Zhou Bai was out of the talisman’s range, but as for the unfamiliar Lin Danian, Daoist Hou had no qualms—he unleashed the lightning without hesitation.

Lin Danian cursed under his breath. This old priest was ruthless; if he didn’t dodge, he’d take the full brunt of the talisman’s power.

An ordinary person would be gravely injured by a thunder talisman, but for Lin Danian, it could very well destroy all his cultivated strength.

In a panic, Lin Danian dove aside with an ungainly roll, sacrificing all semblance of a master’s composure.

Ghosts are instinctively terrified of thunder, and even with Daoist Hou’s mediocre aim, the spirit could have easily evaded. But what it never expected was that Daoist Hou’s true target was not itself.