On a night as dark as pitch, with all the lights extinguished and heavy clouds shrouding the heavens, there was no moon in sight. Only a few faint stars twinkled on the horizon, casting a meager glow.
The night wind whistled over He Yang City, wailing like restless spirits, sending chills down one’s spine. Considering the recent calamity that had befallen the area, not a single soul could be seen on the streets, both within and outside the city. On the long, ancient thoroughfares, only a few withered leaves, stirred by the wind, rolled forlornly, vanishing into the distance.
Amidst this eerie night, a black shadow suddenly emerged from He Yang City, nearly insubstantial, silently landing beyond the city walls before darting swiftly toward the ancient road to the south. Not long after, another, a gray shadow, pursued, fixing its gaze intently on the black one.
These two were none other than the wraith and Shangguan Ce, engaged in a relentless chase that had begun in the Southern Frontier and now continued deep into Central China.
Shangguan Ce, armed with the profound magic of the Incense Burner Valley and a mysterious weapon known as the Nine Cold Ice Thorn, found himself in a grueling struggle against the elusive wraith. The wraith, with its enigmatic and unpredictable sorcery, consistently outmaneuvered Shangguan, but he was undeterred. Though time and again, he came close to capturing his quarry, the wraith always managed to slip away.
Ordinarily, one might have given up, but Shangguan, bound by the orders of the Incense Burner Valley’s Master, Yun Yilán, persisted. The wraith likely held the key to unlocking the secrets of the ancient Southern Frontier Witch Clan’s heavenly fire, making it a prize the Incense Burner Valley would not let slip away.
Yet, such persistence was not without its merits. Over time, Shangguan had become increasingly adept at anticipating the wraith’s tricks. The wraith’s attempts to escape, though ingenious, had been observed and analyzed, making each subsequent attempt more challenging. This was a fact both were acutely aware of, though the wraith, despite his keen awareness, was left with no recourse.
After several fruitless attempts to shake off his pursuer, the wraith found himself running through a desolate plain with fewer hills to provide cover. The landscape gradually opened up, revealing a vast wilderness.
Where else could he flee?
The wraith, masked in black, chuckled bitterly, surging forward, but the relentless rush of air behind him grew ever closer.
In his moment of desperation, the wraith sensed something. Glancing to the side, he, known as the Wraith, discerned a dense, sinister aura emanating from the depths of the wilderness. His unique abilities, combined with an extraordinary sensitivity to ghostly presences, allowed him to detect this unusual phenomenon even in the midst of his frantic escape.
Elated by this discovery, the wraith pivoted sharply, veering towards the source of the aura. Shangguan, undeterred, followed with a cold sneer, effortlessly shifting his direction and closing the gap between them.
Though the wraith had managed to gain some distance, Shangguan was confident. Having thoroughly assessed the wraith’s capabilities, he anticipated no new tricks. In his mind, this was akin to a cat playing with a mouse, and he pressed on, determined to exact his toll.
Sure enough, the wraith’s destination was a place of intense Yin energy, known as a Benevolent Hall, where the bodies of the recently deceased were kept. The dilapidated state of the small house suggested it had been abandoned for quite some time.
The wraith felt a pang of disappointment. The Benevolent Hall, with its strong Yin energy, should have been ideal for deploying his various spectral techniques. Yet, the prolonged abandonment diminished its effectiveness, particularly for his powerful necromantic spells, which he had yet to use. If he could manage to surprise Shangguan with these, he might have a chance to turn the tables.
However, in this derelict hall, there were no fresh corpses.
Despite his frustration, the wraith saw this as a potential refuge. He slipped into the decrepit, darkened house, a lingering question in his mind: How could this place still exude such potent, lasting malevolence?
The night was devoid of moonlight, and the interior of the Benevolent Hall was pitch-black. Yet, for the wraith, navigating the darkness was no challenge. He quickly surveyed the surroundings, confirming that the place was indeed long abandoned. As he moved, he heard the wind intensify, indicating that Shangguan was closing in. The wraith swiftly deployed several peculiar, iron-spiked objects, scattering them throughout the room. Each one, upon disappearing into the shadows, emitted a brief, faint blue glow, intensifying the chilling Yin energy in the air.
A sardonic smile crossed the wraith’s lips. He levitated towards a partially open coffin, sliding inside and pulling the lid shut. The silence was broken by the abrupt halt of the wind, and Shangguan appeared at the doorway.
The wraith, hidden in the coffin, felt a sense of security. He could see Shangguan’s every move through the cracks in the wooden lid. He awaited the perfect moment to spring his trap, but Shangguan, cautious as ever, hesitated to enter.
Just as the wraith was about to lose hope, a startling realization jolted him. There was someone else in the coffin! The figure beneath him was not only alive but also without breath. The wraith, startled, struggled to maintain his composure. He reached out to touch the figure, confirming it was indeed alive, albeit without any signs of respiration.
The wraith’s mind reeled. As he regained his calm, a sharp, almost imperceptible sound echoed in the room. Shangguan, alerted, turned to the corner where the wraith was hiding. Simultaneously, the wraith felt a strange, binding force emanate from the coffin, trapping him inside. Just then, the figure beneath him, seemingly a plump man, stirred and opened its eyes, meeting the wraith’s gaze with a quiet, unsettling smile.
Meanwhile, Shangguan, wary of the place, sensed the unusually strong Yin energy. He advanced cautiously, readying his Nine Cold Ice Thorn. The sudden appearance of a faint blue light, a remnant of the wraith’s earlier trap, attacked him. Despite his formidable skills, he barely managed to parry the attack, but another followed, striking him from behind.
The pain was immense, and Shangguan was thrown through the wall, crashing to the ground. The wraith and the mysterious figure in the coffin watched in shock as a melodious, mocking voice echoed from the roof, “So, who is truly playing the part of a spirit?”
The wraith, trapped and helpless, turned to the plump figure. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I did not control that last attack.”
The figure, intrigued, asked, “How so?”
“I set the traps, but the last one… it was controlled by someone else,” the wraith explained, his voice bitter. “If I had such power, I wouldn’t be stuck here.”
The figure, recognizing their shared predicament, fell silent.
Outside, Shangguan, wounded and enraged, called out, “Whoever you are, show yourself!”
From the roof, a sultry, seductive voice replied, “If you think you can call me out, you’re in for a surprise.”
The wraith, unable to see the speaker, turned to the plump figure. Both were prisoners in this eerie coffin, bound by forces beyond their control. The figure, with a hint of admiration, finally spoke, “You managed to control those spirits. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
As the wraith listened, he couldn’t help but wonder about the true nature of the figure and the terrifying power that had ensnared them both. The world, it seemed, was full of hidden terrors and unknown dangers.
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