Chapter 57

Lin Yu immediately braced for Di Ting's attack, but to her surprise, Di Ting ignored her and lunged straight at Fu Zheng, who was cowering to the side!

Fu Zheng knew the Ghost King's secret and that the Earth Immortal was dead—Di Ting was here to silence him!

Di Ting, an ancient divine beast of the Ghost Realm, had cultivated for ten thousand years to take human form. Its combat prowess spoke for itself. In a flash, Fu Zheng was knocked to the ground!

Di Ting pressed its massive, razor-sharp claws onto Fu Zheng's chest, making him cough violently.

With a ferocious expression and bloodshot eyes, Di Ting let out a thunderous roar over Fu Zheng, nearly bursting eardrums. The passersby scattered in panic. Fu Zheng gripped Di Ting's claws with both hands, straining to keep them from pressing down further.

His face contorted in pain as he desperately pushed the claws outward, shouting with bulging, bloodshot eyes, "Someone! Kill this beast!"

Only after the shout did he realize they were in the Ghost Realm, not the human world. There were no servants at his beck and call, no one willing to risk their life to save him.

Fear finally seized Fu Zheng. He turned his head, catching a glimpse of a dark robe's hem. Casting aside all pride in desperation, he cried out, "Royal brother, please save me! I'll never defy you again... save me..."

His voice cut off abruptly as Di Ting applied a bit more pressure, and a crisp crack echoed through the air—Fu Zheng's ribs had snapped!

Fu Ming still didn't move, standing by coldly as if he hadn't heard the plea, watching Fu Zheng's death throes with indifference.

Zhou Yuan screamed in terror. Seeing the situation turning dire, Lin Yu shoved her toward the panicked ghosts scattering about and told her to hide.

Lin Yu had deduced that Fu Ming and Fu Zheng held no love between them, and Fu Zheng was arrogant and reckless by nature. In the past, she wouldn't have bothered to save such a man. But now, Fu Zheng was crucial—she still needed him for the matters of the Earth Immortal and the Ghost King.

She cast a distant glance at Fu Ming, and a flicker of something finally crossed his cold face. Lin Yu called out, "He's still useful—we have to save him!"

Di Ting's other claw came down on Fu Zheng's chest, and Fu Zheng had already passed out from the pain, too weak to resist any longer. One more ounce of force from Di Ting would crush his body to pulp!

With a whoosh, an ink-black longsword sliced through the air, and Di Ting suddenly howled in agony.

Fu Ming's sword had struck the tendons in its claws, Qingxian burying itself deep into Di Ting's paw!

Blood dripped down the blade, and Di Ting lifted its claw in pain. Seizing the moment its claw left Fu Zheng's chest, Lin Yu pulled the severely wounded, unconscious Fu Zheng out from beneath Di Ting.

Lin Yu scanned her surroundings. The Yellow Spring Road stretched bare with yellow dust and flying sand—no cover anywhere. The passing souls had all scattered, leaving the area empty save for the whisper of shifting grit.

Di Ting's target was Fu Zheng. As long as Fu Zheng drew breath, it wouldn't leave, and reasoning with a beast was out of the question. The only option was to get Fu Zheng as far away from Di Ting as possible to avoid another attack.

The wind howled along the Yellow Spring Road. Lin Yu observed its direction and noticed a slight downhill slope ahead, with the wind funneling straight down it. In an instant, she made her decision. Without hesitation, she shoved Fu Zheng downwind, and the gale caught him, tumbling him downward!

She channeled a thread of her power into Fu Zheng, and he slid smoothly away, vanishing from sight.

Di Ting tried to pull its paw free but couldn't dislodge the embedded sword, roaring in frustration. When it saw Fu Zheng was gone, it abandoned the wound and gave chase.

It hadn't gotten more than two steps when Lin Yu and Fu Ming blocked its path. Di Ting stared at the man and woman before it, confusion flickering in its eyes.

The Ghost King had ordered that Lin Yu was not to be harmed—she was to leave unhindered—and Fu Ming could take a beating but must also be allowed to escape. Di Ting always obeyed the Ghost King without question, never straying.

So even though its paw had just been wounded by Lin Yu and Fu Ming, it sheathed its fangs and spoke in a muffled rumble from its colossal maw.

"Move aside. I have to kill him."

Lin Yu didn't budge. "Why does the Ghost King keep going back on his word? He agreed to let us leave, and now he sends someone to gravely wound us? Does your Ghost Realm truly have no sense of accountability for its mistakes?"

"He stole our Ghost King's artifact and broke it! I can't let him live!" Di Ting spun a clumsy lie, then strode forward, the very earth trembling beneath its steps.

It had hoped to frighten Lin Yu off, but even when it closed the distance until they were face to face, Lin Yu didn't retreat a single step. She stood her ground before the beast, a mortal unbearably small in the shadow of an ancient divine creature.

Di Ting lowered its head to peer at the woman, who wasn't even half the length of its leg. "Move. Or I'll crush you both under my foot."

"Fine," Lin Yu shot back. "Let's see if a beast of the underworld dares lay a hand on a god of the Nine Heavens."

Threats had never worked on her—she could spin falsehoods without batting an eye.

From the start, Di Ting's target had been Fu Zheng, which meant the Ghost King was rattled and had sent someone to silence him. Yet Di Ting wasn't attacking Lin Yu or Fu Ming, just threatening them to move aside...

Lin Yu looked up at the towering creature. Di Ting had little experience with people, its mind simple and its wit slow. She understood now: the Ghost King had ordered Fu Zheng silenced, but no one else touched. Di Ting stuck to its orders to the letter, which was why it hesitated here with them.

Lin Yu said, "His lifespan wasn't spent, yet he stumbled into the underworld once, and you crushed his bones to the point he blacked out. At this rate, he might not even make it out of the Ghost Realm alive. Why must you finish him off so thoroughly?"

Di Ting's enormous eye blinked. "He has to die!"

Qingxian was still lodged in its paw, blood dripping steadily down. Lin Yu was about to say more when Di Ting's eyes suddenly lit up. With a furious roar, it leaped straight over Lin Yu and Fu Ming.

Lin Yu spun around, her heart seizing. Fu Zheng had reappeared behind them, and Di Ting, spotting its quarry, went berserk and charged!

Fu Zheng lay on the ground, crawling back with immense effort. Blood trickled from his lips, his fingers buried deep into the loess, crevices quickly filling with damp earth. The scattered pebbles scraped across his skin like blades, and he grimaced as he crept forward.

His sudden reappearance was jarring. He'd been so badly wounded—how had he woken up so quickly and crawled all the way back?

Lin Yu drew a sharp breath. "Qingxian!"

The blade quivered, then flew out of Di Ting's paw, scoring another grave wound. Di Ting's forelegs buckled, nearly toppling it. Lin Yu caught the flying sword and drove it into Di Ting's back!

But it was too late. Fu Zheng had practically thrown himself into death's embrace, collapsing at Di Ting's feet. Before Lin Yu's sword could reach Di Ting, its foot stamped down on Fu Zheng's head!

In an instant, Fu Zheng's eyes bulged as if they'd be squeezed from their sockets. The bones of his upper body shattered nearly to dust, his spine barely holding his frame together, his torso grotesquely caved in.

Under the crushing pressure, his skull warped and split, becoming nothing more than a smear of debris!

Fu Zheng was dead.

At the same moment, Lin Yu's blade finally caught up to Di Ting's speed, but it was all for naught. Qingxian sliced across Di Ting's spine before she pulled it back. A mess of red and yellow fluids pooled on the ground, and a trail of blood beaded down the hilt, winding along the blade to its tip before dripping onto the earth.

Lin Yu froze mid-motion. Di Ting, for some reason, suddenly trampled toward Fu Zheng's corpse, grinding what was left of his broken body almost to powder!

Click!

A pure black bead tumbled out from the ashes of his remains.

Lin Yu's eyes widened in disbelief. This was... a demon cultivator's inner core!

Fu Zheng hadn't died from chasing immortality and falling into heretical practices—he hadn't been deranged by dark arts. He had been a demon cultivator all along!

Since the fall of the Demon Tribe, demon cultivators had become exceedingly rare. The path to corruption was simple—anyone could fall if guided—and demon cultivators' abilities were a hundredfold stronger than other practitioners.

But very few chose this path. First, because demon cultivators couldn't reincarnate after death—no next life. Second, because they couldn't live long; most burned through their lifespans in a matter of years, as if igniting their own life force for cultivation, which was why their strength soared so high.

Third, because society abhorred them. Any demon cultivator caught was executed under the harshest cruelties.

By Lin Yu's estimation, Fu Zheng had been a demon cultivator for at least three years. Why else would he have such an extreme obsession with longevity, going to any lengths for immortality? He just hadn't achieved it before his time ran out, ultimately dying a miserable death in his own home.

Demon cultivation defied the natural order. His lifespan hadn't ended on its own, so he was deemed one whose allotted years were unfulfilled and was singled out by the soul-locking lure.

Lin Yu moved to pick up the inner core, but as her fingers were about to touch it, the black orb split open, cracks erupting almost against her fingertips.

A wisp of black smoke escaped through the cracks, spiraling above their heads. Lin Yu rose, reaching up to seize it, but it slipped through her fingers. Then, the smoke shot straight toward Fu Ming!

Lin Yu's heart lurched. Unbidden, she recalled The God of Glory's parting words before his death:

"He cultivates the demonic path."

Fu Ming saw the black smoke closing in and raised his hand, condensing his power to subdue it. But then something utterly unforeseen happened—

The black smoke ignored his gesture, darted past his palm, and vanished into the space between his brows!

A dark gleam flashed in Fu Ming's eyes. The world plunged into pitch blackness, and something seized hold of his thoughts.

When he looked up again, he saw his sword in another's hand. He frowned, clicked his tongue in annoyance, and flicked his fingers toward Qingxian. The blade flew from Lin Yu's grasp and returned to Fu Ming's palm.

The sword's edge was still stained with blood—whose, he couldn't tell, but he was satisfied. Qingxian took on a strange sheen with the blood upon it, and he didn't bother wiping it clean.

Fu Ming stared at the woman before him, whose face he couldn't quite make out. She was the one who'd taken Qingxian earlier, and he narrowed his eyes with dangerous intent.

This woman who'd stolen his sword had to die.

Di Ting had reverted from beast form to human, startled by Fu Ming's state. He stumbled backward, bumping into Lin Yu. Seeing her face, Di Ting shouted, "Go! He's a demon cultivator of terrifying strength! The black smoke has clouded his mind—he's about to go on a killing spree!"

Di Ting grabbed Lin Yu, trying to pull her away, but at that moment, sword light flashed, and the blade split the air with an earsplitting hum.

Fu Ming thrust his longsword straight at Lin Yu's throat!