Volume Two, Chapter Forty-Nine: The Assassin Strikes

The evil spirit had just perished when, suddenly, a streak of black light flashed across the air.

“Watch out—!”

Everyone had been staring up at the bat demon, so they all saw the black light. Yet it moved far too swiftly; their cries of warning had barely begun before the black light struck the bat.

The bat’s true form, no larger than a fist, was cleaved in two. Blood rained down as the corpse plummeted to the ground.

“Damn it! Who’s there?” Lu Zihao roared, firing over a dozen projectiles.

Thuds sounded as the shots pelted the rear wall, raising clouds of dust, but striking nothing. At the same time, nearly everyone leapt toward the back, yet found nothing.

Now, all were truly incensed. The death of the rat demon had been tolerable—after all, he’d been slain by the tomb’s evil spirit, and everyone was mentally prepared for such dangers before entering. But this attack was clearly the work of a hidden enemy; how could such treachery be borne?

They searched thoroughly, but not a single clue came to light.

After a moment’s thought, Lu Zihao spoke: “Either this person’s skills far surpass ours, or they’re an expert assassin. Everyone, be extremely careful. Bull and Gada, you two take the middle; Black Carp, you’re with me at the rear; you two, take the lead.”

As soon as the word “assassin” was spoken, Meng Fang and Yu Mu exchanged glances. Could this person be here for them? Both surreptitiously felt for the teleportation talismans hidden in their robes.

The group proceeded once more, even more cautiously.

They hadn’t been inside for even half a day, and already two were dead. The bat demon’s demise left them defenseless against the evil spirits. All thoughts of exploring the tomb had vanished; now, they only hungered for escape.

“Be careful—the evil spirits are coming again,” Yu Mu warned after they’d walked only a short distance.

“Everyone, on guard! Yu Mu, report their direction,” responded Lu Zihao.

“One, two, three...”

“What are you doing, Yu Mu? Quickly—”

“Run! There are so many evil spirits!”

At his shout, chaos erupted. Everyone turned and fled for their lives.

—

“Hurry, go! I’ll cover the rear,” Lu Zihao called, drawing out a handful of luminous spirit crystals and firing them backward like bullets.

Yu Mu glanced back amid the chaos; these light-attribute crystals could indeed harm the spirits—but only slightly. Each strike would damage an area no larger than the crystal itself, and with so many spirits behind them, the cost of exterminating them all would bankrupt even the greatest clan.

They ran for their lives, and now a clear distinction in speed emerged. The most forgettable member of the group—at least in Yu Mu’s memory—turned out to be the fastest. When he revealed his true form, Yu Mu realized he was a leopard demon.

Hot on his heels was Old Qu the lion demon, but most surprising of all was the black carp demon, who, unexpectedly, was no slouch either. Transforming into his true form, he spat a torrent of water and darted along, using water escape.

The slowest were Meng Fang and Yu Mu. Yu Mu had already turned into a pig—this body was at least somewhat faster. Meng Fang, however, couldn’t even assume his true form due to the narrowness of the passage, and so was forced to run on two legs. Lu Zihao followed close behind them, firing as he ran.

After several branching paths, the group became separated. The faster ones soon vanished from sight, but after this frantic flight, even the evil spirits had been left behind.

The three survivors stopped, panting. Ahead was a dead end—save for a single, bizarre door.

This door was nothing but a frame—no handle, no sign it could be opened or closed. And at its foot lay a corpse, long since decayed to a pile of white bones.

“What’s this?” Lu Zihao exclaimed, noticing something among the bones. He parted them and picked up an object: it was a magical artifact.

Yu Mu and Meng Fang saw it too—a claw-shaped treasure, its quality evidently high. Both felt a pang of envy at Lu Zihao’s luck.

While Lu Zihao examined the artifact, the other two focused their attention on the mysterious door. Its material was a mystery—not metal, not wood, nor did it resemble stone.

Meng Fang picked up a bone from the corpse and hurled it at the door. Strangely, the bone wasn’t bounced back, nor did it make a sound landing on the other side; it simply vanished.

Yu Mu reached out a hand toward the door, and after a moment, said with uncertainty, “This door’s energy feels similar to a teleportation array.”

Meng Fang quickly pulled his hand back. “This door’s too strange. Who knows where it might send us? Let’s look for another way out.”

But they had barely turned when Lu Zihao gave a terrible cry. Yu Mu looked over to see an evil spirit emerging from the artifact, latching onto Lu Zihao’s face and draining his spiritual energy.

Lu Zihao’s eyes blazed. With a furious shout, he unleashed a tremendous wave of power that instantly hurled the spirit away. His cultivation far surpassed that of the rat demon; this weak spirit could not truly harm him.

Before the spirit could attack again, Lu Zihao hastily flung the artifact away—straight toward Yu Mu, who was rushing over to help.

By reflex, Yu Mu caught it. At that very moment, the spirit, half-emerged from the artifact, found itself face-to-face with Yu Mu, who was as startled as it.

—

Yu Mu recoiled in horror, ready to throw away the cursed artifact. But just then, the spirit seemed to sense something on Yu Mu that filled it with terror; with a whish, it shot into the air and vanished without a trace.

What had just happened?

The three had barely recovered when an even deadlier assault struck.

From the darkness, a streak of black light flashed toward them. The timing was impeccable—Lu Zihao still clutched his aching head, Yu Mu was stunned, and Meng Fang looked utterly bewildered, not yet grasping what had happened.

“Look out, assas—” Yu Mu was the first to notice the attack, but before he could finish his warning, the black light was upon them, targeting the strongest among them: Lu Zihao.

Lu Zihao, too, saw the fatal light, but there was no time to dodge.

Yu Mu instantly hurled the artifact at the black light and raised his staff to block, but it was already too late.

With a snap, the artifact was sent flying, but the black light pressed on, undeterred. Disaster loomed; Lu Zihao closed his eyes, bracing himself for the blow.

At the very last instant, Meng Fang, the only one able to move, raised his hand and slapped something onto Lu Zihao. A flash of light enveloped Lu Zihao, and he vanished.

The black light missed its mark and instead struck at Meng Fang. There was a soft clang as a greenwood staff blocked the blow.

Meng Fang broke out in a cold sweat. The very word “assassin” had long since left a deep, indelible mark of terror on his soul.

“Run!” he shouted in panic, grabbing Yu Mu and charging through the mysterious door.

At that moment, even if flames and blades awaited them on the other side, he would not have hesitated.