Chapter Sixty-Five: Ascending to a New Divine Power

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The county office was far from peaceful. The place was filled with the agonized cries of the wounded, gathered together in large numbers. Over a dozen constables hurried back and forth, but it was still not enough to meet the need. Even Magistrate Zhao, with his portly figure, had to involve himself personally. This unremarkable middle-aged man, whose appearance was more akin to a wealthy merchant than an official, was nonetheless a model of uprightness and dedication.

As the group stepped into the open courtyard of the county office, they saw a towering tree formed of twisting vines standing at the center, roughly three meters tall. Countless tendrils stretched outward, healing the wounded scattered around. Only a few looked on in fear; most regarded the tree as the work of an immortal, some even prostrating themselves in worship.

Zhou Bai approached, recognizing at a glance that this was a manifestation of Bai Wanming's divine power—not his true form, but his essence hidden within the mass of intertwining vines. The ancient tree, conjured by Bai Wanming's abilities, exuded an awe-inspiring presence. In the darkness, a faint phosphorescence drifted around it, no wonder it inspired such reverence among mortals.

To Yu Jun, it was clear that Bai Wanming's cultivation had grown even deeper since their last encounter. The power to transform into a sacred tree was mysterious indeed; it would not be long before he achieved full embodiment.

Seeing them return, Wen Meng sighed with relief and hurried over.

"Are you all right?"

"We're fine. The source of the corpse plague has been dealt with."

After Zhou Bai and Wen Meng exchanged their accounts, they each found a place in the courtyard to rest.

The wounds of the townspeople quickly stabilized under treatment; now only time and recuperation were needed. Soon, they were led away from the county office and resettled in temporary shelters in Hangdu City.

Before the gathered crowd, Wang Sheng was placed before Bai Wanming. As countless vines wrapped around him, the demonic energy emanating from his body grew turbulent. To the naked eye, Bai Wanming appeared shrouded in a green mist, so substantial it was almost tangible—a testament to the tremendous power he wielded.

Stimulated by this demonic energy, Wang Sheng's injuries gradually healed. The unclaimed yin energy within him was forced out, though his severed hand could not possibly regrow on its own.

Magistrate Zhao's expression grew grim. For agents of the Underworld Office to be so grievously wounded, he sensed that a greater storm was brewing. With this in mind, he looked over at Yu Jun and the others. Since he had crossed paths with Zhou Bai before, he quietly approached him to ask in a low voice—

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"Have the ghosts within Hangdu City been dealt with?"

Zhou Bai's expression was noncommittal; after a pause, he replied, "The surge of demons and spirits has been barely contained. As long as we make it through tonight, there should be no further trouble."

Magistrate Zhao's face darkened. He detected the underlying warning in Zhou Bai's words—there was still considerable danger before dawn. He offered his thanks and turned away, immediately organizing the constables to make preparations, focusing especially on the city's grain merchants. In the event of calamity, controlling the food supply was crucial to maintaining order.

Seeing no one paying him any heed, Daoist Hou found a corner, sat cross-legged, and tried to summon the true energy from his dantian. After a long while, he realized that all his cultivation had vanished like smoke.

He was nearly in tears. Though he had awakened his ghostly powers, Daoist Hou had never wanted to rely on supernatural arts; his true desire was to cultivate the orthodox Daoist methods. Yet every attempt to gather energy found his dantian empty. It seemed he now had no choice but to walk this path to its inevitable end.

Once Wang Sheng's condition had stabilized, Yu Jun wasted no time. She transformed into a leopard and melted into the night, unable to tolerate the bustling noise within the county office. However, she did not stray far, staying close enough to quickly contact the others should any disturbance arise within Hangdu City.

Zhou Bai sat in meditation in the courtyard. Opening his system interface, he noticed he had gained eighteen more points—six of them from the silver he had acquired. It was a considerable windfall.

Yet his unease only grew. He wondered if he should use these points to upgrade a divine ability, in preparation for whatever battle might come next.

He did not hesitate for long. The thought that danger might strike again tonight steeled his resolve.

Having experienced several upgrades before, Zhou Bai was already accustomed to the pain that accompanied the process. In fact, as his constitution grew stronger, the discomfort lessened and the time required shortened. This time would be no different.

He gave Daoist Hou a simple explanation, saying only that he wanted to find a quiet place to restore his yin energy.

He made his way to an empty house beside the county office—a common sight in the aftermath of the corpse plague.

Once inside, Zhou Bai sat cross-legged on the floor, his two blades laid across his thighs. Closing his eyes, he summoned the system interface.

Only two options were available: the Art of Brewing and the Sutra of Kṣitigarbha’s Original Vows.

From past experience, skills like the Art of Brewing, which might evolve into a human-path divine ability, offered little immediate benefit to combat effectiveness.

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Zhou Bai had no choice but to consider the Sutra of Kṣitigarbha’s Original Vows. However, the system required ten points to upgrade it—far more than any other divine ability.

Counting the points needed for advancement, it would take twenty in total to manifest this sutra as a true divine power.

He sighed. The higher the cost, the more powerful the ability would likely be, but without enough points, there was little he could do.

As for the Art of Brewing, he was reluctant to waste points on it now. Human-path divine abilities were mostly auxiliary, and seemed of little use in the current crisis.

Since he could not yet advance any divine abilities, Zhou Bai stepped out of the house.

He drew a deep breath and looked toward the brightly lit county office, where the noise and confusion still echoed faintly.

A thought struck him—when Panshan Monastery had fallen, a trove of scriptures had been left behind. They must have been brought back to the county office.

With this in mind, he leapt onto the eaves and slipped quietly back into the office grounds, choosing a secluded path to avoid drawing attention.

Soon he found the neglected storeroom, its door wide open and thick dust blanketing everything inside.

Covering his nose and mouth, Zhou Bai entered. Fortunately, he could see clearly even in the dark.

He searched the storeroom and soon discovered the pile of scriptures, some thirty or forty volumes in all.

It was clear the monks of Panshan Monastery had treasured these texts; though the pages were yellowed, they were intact, exuding a faint scent of sandalwood.

Zhou Bai picked up the topmost scripture and opened it, only to find it filled with dense Sanskrit characters he could not understand.

No wonder Sanhuo the Monk had so casually gifted them to him—he must have known Zhou Bai would have little interest in such writings.

Still, Zhou Bai glanced at his system interface as he quickly flipped through the pages. If, after reading, the system did not react, he would simply set the scripture aside.