Chapter 39: The Strongest of the Contemporary Taoist School

Jiang Mingyuan’s face turned ashen in an instant.

"The Yin-Yang energy I wielded—it has actually been devoured by this evil cultivator!"

His most powerful technique had failed.

Fu Ankang’s expression was one of terror. He looked toward Chen Fan and said in a deep, trembling voice, "Master Chen, do you have any way to deal with this?"

"It’s simple. Just kill him," Chen Fan replied with a shrug.

Having felt a flicker of hope upon hearing the first half of the sentence, Jiang Mingyuan’s face went deathly pale again the moment the second half was spoken.

"Simple? Kill him?" Jiang Mingyuan roared in agitation, "Did you not see? My arts were completely useless against him! How could you possibly kill him?"

Chen Fan could not be bothered to explain, nor would he ever offer an explanation to the likes of Jiang Mingyuan.

The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator let out a cackling laugh. "Heh heh... don't argue, don't be afraid. If the prey is too terrified, their flesh and blood will turn sour when refined into a pill."

Chen Fan simply looked at him and asked calmly, "How many people have you killed?"

"Why ask that? Ten? A hundred? A thousand? It could be any of those." The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator grinned. "Why do you ask?"

"So I can feel more righteous when I kill you," Chen Fan replied, his expression serene.

The calmer Chen Fan appeared, the more unsettled the Soul-Swallowing Cultivator became. He stared at Chen Fan, enunciating each word with venom: "Fine. Since you wish to die, don't blame me for being merciless!"

The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator threw his head back and opened his mouth wide, spewing out waves of black mist.

"Ghost Spirits!" Jiang Mingyuan cried out in shock, his voice trembling. "Those are Ghost Spirits! Do not engage them directly!"

This time, Chen Fan could not help but laugh. "This is what you call Ghost Spirits?"

If one had to be precise, this was merely an advanced version of ghost-taming arts. But to Chen Fan, it felt incredibly weak.

Jiang Mingyuan felt like he could stomp his feet in frustration. Evil cultivators who mastered ghost-taming and cultivated Ghost Spirits could kill invisibly! Only the soul-governing techniques of the Maoshan sect stood above such arts. And yet, here was Chen Fan, acting as if it were nothing!

Fu Ankang and Xiao Li felt a bone-chilling cold wash over them. While they could not see the ghosts, they could vaguely sense something present, and the temperature around them was plummeting.

Jiang Mingyuan’s pupils quivered, his legs giving way until he nearly collapsed to the ground.

Ten... a hundred... a thousand! The number of Ghost Spirits spewing from the cultivator’s mouth was dense and terrifying. Nearly a thousand of them! Jiang Mingyuan was filled with a sense of utter helplessness. How could they win? How could they survive?

The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator closed his mouth and sneered at Chen Fan. "If my spirits don't count as Ghost Spirits, then what does?"

Chen Fan did not reply; he simply raised his left hand. The Yin energy radiating from the surrounding spectral entities coalesced into a vortex in his palm. Two sorrowfully roaring spirits materialized instantly!

The Seeking Bodhisattva! The Seeking Vajra!

The moment these two spirits appeared, the ghosts summoned by the Soul-Swallowing Cultivator began to shriek in terror. The cultivator’s expression shifted from shock to raw greed. "Ghost Spirits! What powerful Ghost Spirits! They are mine—these spirits should belong to me!"

Jiang Mingyuan stared at Chen Fan in astonishment, whispering, "An... an evil cultivator?"

"Kill," Chen Fan said flatly.

The Seeking Bodhisattva and the Seeking Vajra did not hesitate for a second, charging straight at the sea of spirits.

"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill them all for me! Heh heh heh!" The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator threw his head back and laughed hysterically, already imagining the Bodhisattva and Vajra under his own control.

But in the next second, he froze. His own ghosts, which he had spent so much effort cultivating, were being torn to shreds by the Bodhisattva and Vajra as if they were nothing more than scraps of paper fluttering in the wind. No matter how many he had, they could not withstand such attrition! And he didn't have an infinite supply.

"No! No! Stop killing them! Don't kill my spirits anymore!" The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator shrieked, his voice laced with desperate pleading.

Chen Fan remained expressionless. He understood evil cultivators all too well. They all harbored deep internal flaws—extreme, twisted tendencies. You might find one to be a pleasant conversationalist one moment, only to have them turn you into a spirit thrall the next. If you ever felt pity for an evil cultivator, you were already one step away from becoming a ghost yourself.

Evil cultivators never suppressed their emotions; they only poured them outward. They never suffered from internal conflict.

"No! I told you to stop! Stop!" The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator bellowed, his eyes bulging. In just this short time, he had already lost at least three hundred of his spirits. The Bodhisattva and the Vajra were nothing short of gods of slaughter.

"Ahhh! You deserve to die!" The Soul-Swallowing Cultivator’s eyes were bloodshot. His emaciated frame looked as though it might shatter with every step. "I will refine you into the main ingredient for my Life-Borrowing Pill!"

With that, he lunged at Chen Fan, unleashing a burst of speed and power that should have been impossible for his frail, elderly body. His arms lashed out like whips, his movements fluid and lethal as he closed the distance.

"Watch out!" Fu Ankang shouted in alarm.

At the very moment the shout rang out, Chen Fan had already furrowed his brow. "We are dueling with arts; why resort to physical attacks?"

A surge of righteous, majestic energy erupted from him, instantly blasting the Soul-Swallowing Cultivator away. The man’s thin, spindly frame flew through the air like a discarded bamboo pole, flopping limply once he hit the ground.

He lifted his head, staring at Chen Fan in sheer disbelief. "You command Ghost Spirits, yet you also master such righteous energy! Who—who exactly are you?"

Jiang Mingyuan stared at Chen Fan, his trembling knees finally giving out. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

"Master Jiang, what are you doing?" Fu Ankang rushed over to help him up, but Jiang Mingyuan remained motionless, his eyes locked onto Chen Fan.

"I... I know who he is."

"Who?"

Jiang Mingyuan’s voice trembled as he spoke: "The one who fought three thousand righteous cultivators alone! The one who annihilated three thousand evil cultivators! The man who made the entire Feng Shui world tremble in fear..."

"The strongest of the contemporary Daoist sects..."

"He is... Chief Daoist Chen!"