First, kill one person.

He gripped a blood-soaked banner in his right hand, while his left held a lock of burning black hair, as if performing a ritual to summon souls. His hair hung loose and wild, and he chanted incantations ceaselessly, until finally, with a forceful thrust, he drove the banner’s pole deep into the earth.

Upon closer inspection, the bloodstains on the banner were densely packed with tiny characters—hundreds of them. Careful scrutiny revealed these to be surnames, a hundred in all. As he uttered the final syllable, the banner flared with a crimson glow, and spectral figures began to drift forth.

The apparitions were vague, nearly transparent, but in a blink, they began to devour each other, as though they were venomous insects bred for the sole purpose of mutual destruction. In the end, a single ghost king emerged, its aura rivaling that of a cultivator at the peak of the fifth level of Qi Refining.

Summoning the ghost king had drained the tall man’s strength; his feet faltered, and he hastily swallowed a pill to recover. Not daring to refine its effects immediately, he fixed his gaze on the two figures in the arena, directing the ghost king to lunge forward.

The ghost king arrived just as Monkey-face was spitting corpse blood to block the fire serpent’s advance. Qin Chuan sensed the ghost king’s presence at his side but refused to abandon his chance to slay the nearly exhausted Monkey-face. With a swift motion, he produced a Yin-Yang Thunder Pearl, infused it with spiritual energy, and tossed it toward the threat, all while pressing forward with his sword behind the fire serpent.

He did not know whether the Thunder Pearl would be effective against such sinister entities, but he was determined to capture his foe first; otherwise, he would forever be constrained, with no hope of victory.

As he suspected, the Thunder Pearl barely affected the ghost king, causing only a brief pause. Seeing Qin Chuan exposed, the ghost king’s claws flashed with eerie light as it lunged, its face twisted in fury.

The fiendish wind at his back could not quell his murderous resolve. Monkey-face looked up, meeting Qin Chuan’s chilling gaze, and his heart sank.

It was over...

No time for further thought—a flash of sword light swept past. A fine pink line appeared on Monkey-face’s throat, circling his neck. A thick column of blood then spurted skyward, turning to mist and engulfing Qin Chuan. The blood was a normal crimson, with no corrosive effect.

A moment later, the ghost king let out a piercing wail, sensing the sorrow in the tall man’s heart. Its claws gleamed with greater malice as it stabbed toward Qin Chuan’s back.

A strike here would mean near-certain death.

Without hesitation, Qin Chuan advanced rather than retreated, thrusting his shoulder beneath the ghost king’s claws.

A sickening crunch—the sound of flesh and fabric torn apart.

The tall man hadn’t expected Qin Chuan’s resolve; seeing escape was impossible, he offered his left shoulder to the ghost king. The injury was grave but not fatal.

Qin Chuan’s face paled, agony radiating from the wound, and a chilling aura began to spread through his flesh. He spun, kicking the ghost king hard and using the momentum to propel himself backward, momentarily widening the distance.

Wasting no time, he swallowed an antidote pill, then swung the Moonlit Sword, slicing away the contaminated flesh from his shoulder. He formed a series of hand seals, pressing points along the Triple Burner meridian, and crushed some pills, applying the powder to the wound.

Meanwhile, the ghost king lunged again, bloodlust gleaming fiercely in its eyes. The tall man had recovered some spiritual energy and, desperate after losing his brother, hastily formed the spell seals.

Infusing his body with spiritual energy, he conjured three fiery arrows overhead, sending them hurtling toward Qin Chuan’s face.

Their coordination was flawless—one attacking the head, the other the heart.

Qin Chuan was in poor shape, his spiritual energy dangerously low, his left shoulder severely wounded.

He raised his sword, retreating two steps. Whether by intent or happenstance, he found himself beside Monkey-face’s corpse. His expression was cold and unmoved, his spiritual energy refined to a razor’s edge, and a faint, obscure aura emanated from within—the secret art of Hidden Dust.

His heart was utterly calm, his gaze icy.

As the two threats closed in, he employed a subtle technique with his foot, lifting Monkey-face’s headless corpse and tossing it toward the incoming fiery arrows.

Without pause, his sword’s momentum grew solid and unadorned; yet now, for the first time, it seemed to reveal a hint of sword intent.

The sword had spirit.

In the blink of an eye, the two sides converged.

A sharp crack—ten ghost king claws snapped cleanly at their roots, ringing shrill in the air. Without hesitation, Qin Chuan launched a counterattack.

The anticipated fiery arrows never arrived.

They should have pierced Qin Chuan, but instead, Monkey-face’s headless body suddenly flew up and blocked them. The tall man, shocked and enraged, his eyes bloodshot, felt his brother’s loss deep in his heart. The surge of emotion shook his organs, forcing him to halt the arrows.

That was why Qin Chuan had waited until the final, precarious moment to act.

As for life and death, this was a high-stakes gamble. Perhaps the tall man would abandon sentiment, or perhaps he would falter—if so, Qin Chuan’s fate would be sealed. Otherwise, his opponent would be forced from the battlefield.

The ghost king, battered by Qin Chuan’s relentless assault, retreated step by step. Such fiendish beings lacked human intelligence, and without the tall man’s guidance, its peak fifth-level Qi Refining power was merely ordinary.

Meanwhile, Qin Chuan’s right eye began to blur, a faint silver pupil emerging.

A thread of sword intent infused his attacks.

Seeing the ghost king fall back, the tall man could only watch, his meager spiritual energy in chaos, unable to cast spells even if he wished.

He swallowed a Stabilizing Qi Powder, quietly reorganizing his energy, his gaze cold and menacing.

He waited for Qin Chuan’s poison to take effect.

Just then, a strange noise sounded from the forest—a shadow hurtled toward them.