The dense, dark miasma moved like bone-eroding water, drilling into the meridians of the human body — ice-cold and piercing to the marrow, intent on strangling all within its reach. Those performing the ritual and those bearing the curse bore the brunt of it first.

Sensing that overwhelming, sky-reaching malice and venom, Yice’s expression turned cold and grave. He formed hand seals with both hands and offered up the Eight Trigrams Mirror passed down from his sect, raising it to meet the surging dark miasma. With a sharp cry, he struck the mirror repeatedly with Daoist incantations, causing it to resonate with a humming vibration. The mirror’s surface shimmered with flowing light, reflecting the black fog and revealing within it a python — now entirely black.

Its massive maw gaped open, long and sharp venomous fangs gleaming with cold light within the mirror. Thick, foul-smelling viscous fluid slid down the corners of its mouth as it strained to break through the mirror’s surface.

Yet each time the Daoist incantations struck the Eight Trigrams Mirror, scorching azure light refracted from within, dispersing the black miasma with a sizzling sound of burning.

Within the mirror, the python grew ever more frenzied and contorted. The malicious venom, unable to be contained, surged outward.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes darkened with depth. This was the corrupted Willow Immortal — she had originally been a white serpent. Hatred had stripped away her reason, leaving behind nothing but resentment, venom, and malevolent intent.

Crack.

Trouble. The Eight Trigrams Mirror was on the verge of being shattered by that venomous dark miasma — fractures had begun to form.

Lang Jiuchuan glanced at the paper effigy on the ground, trembling violently. On the other side, Bai Ning’s complexion had turned a sickly pale green-white.

They could not afford to drag this out any longer. If the effigy was destroyed before it could complete the soul-substitution ritual, then the one left to be eroded by the resentful curse would be none other than Bai Ning herself — and that would mean no salvation remained. Their curse-breaking technique would be utterly ruined.

Lang Jiuchuan did not speak to interrupt Yice’s ritual. She simply unhooked the Dizhong from her waist, formed a hand seal with one hand, and with the other, she grasped the bell and gave it a single shake.

Dong.

A peal of the bell rang out, as though descending from the highest of heavens, shaking the minds and spirits of all who heard it.

This was Lang Jiuchuan’s display of authority — and a warning to Yice: do not become entangled in a drawn-out struggle. End it swiftly.

Yice’s expression sharpened with resolve. The brilliance in his eyes flowed and shifted. His left hand formed the Demon-Subduing Seal. With his right hand, he struck outward, summoning the Heavenly Canopy Ruler — forged from thousand-year lightning-struck wood — into his grip. His feet traced the Seven-Star Celestial Steps, and his sealed hand directed itself at the dark miasma and black serpent within the mirror. His incantation rang out clearly and solemnly:

“Heavenly Canopy, Heavenly Canopy, Nine Primal Malevolent Spirits, Five Divine Marshals of the Bureau… Mighty Sword God-King, slay the wicked and erase their trace — Edict!”

As the hand seal descended, the talismanic inscriptions on the Heavenly Canopy Ruler blazed suddenly bright, sweeping downward in a virtual slash toward the black serpent. The righteous, commanding energy of the strike — crimson-red like the lashes of a nine-nether fire whip — seared the black serpent into a spasm of writhing. Through the courtyard, something like a piercing, agonized wail seemed to rise, causing the blood and breath of all present to churn violently.

Crack. Snap.

The Eight Trigrams Mirror shattered and fell to the ground. The black miasma dispersed along with it. Having expended his spiritual power, Yice felt a sharp pain in his chest, and with a sound, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“Ning’er—!” Zuo Yan’s voice rang out in frightened urgency.

Lang Jiuchuan looked over. Bai Ning on the low couch was convulsing without stop, while the Seven-Star Lamp on the ground swayed unsteadily.

She walked over, produced golden acupuncture needles, and inserted them into several major acupoints on Bai Ning’s body. With a sweep of her hand, Daoist intent flowed from the needle tips inward, slowly quieting Bai Ning’s convulsions.

Lang Jiuchuan looked again at the effigy on the ground, her lips pressing into a subtle line.

The Willow Immortal’s blood curse carried within it the power of heaven and earth, which made the malice of the blood curse all the stronger.

Now, struck by Yice’s blow, the resentful energy contained within the bone bell had been fully provoked — the resentful intent surged out entirely, not a drop remaining. Lang Jiuchuan strode swiftly forward. The moment had come.

The moment all the resentful energy within the bone bell emerged was the moment for them to give their all.

Before her eyes, that resentful intent transformed into an even denser black fog. A foul, damp, fetid scent drifted through the air. The black miasma gradually coalesced, taking shape as a massive python — its entire body lacquer black. Its head was fearsome and grotesque, bearing a single horn upon its brow. Four claws gleamed sharp. Fangs glinted with cold light. It coiled itself within the courtyard, gazing down from on high with a commanding stare. Its pair of slit pupils were saturated with venom and hatred, fixed unwaveringly upon the people before the ritual altar — then, as though sensing something, its gaze shifted toward Bai Ning.

Lang Jiuchuan felt her scalp tighten. She stared at it intently. When she saw it shift its gaze and turn instead toward the substitute effigies, the tension in her chest eased slightly.

Sealing away Bai Ning’s bloodline aura had been the right call.

And in the eyes of the black serpent formed from resentful intent, those two effigies appeared as people — the descendants of that detestable, wicked woman.

They deserved to die. Every one of them deserved to die.

The moment this resentful curse erupted, even with Bai Ning’s bloodline aura sealed, she still bore its impact — her face turned snow-white, fine beads of sweat seeped from her temples, and the faintest trace of blood began to seep from the corners of her mouth.

If her condition had come to this, then Bai Jingsong’s situation back at the Bai Family estate was likely far worse.

Zuo Yan was anxious, but he held little particular sympathy. He had done all that could be done. As for bringing Bai Jingsong here for Lang Jiuchuan to see to as well — he had no such magnanimity. One more person meant one more measure of risk. So long as his wife came through unharmed and he himself survived, that was enough.

Had Bai Jingsong been a person of genuine virtue, he might have swallowed his pride and pleaded with Lang Jiuchuan on his behalf. But it was plainly clear that Lang Jiuchuan held that beast’s conduct in utter contempt — he would not sacrifice that goodwill, lest he find himself unable to call upon her when he truly needed to in the future.

Yice spun around and exchanged a glance with Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan understood. She moved to Bai Ning’s side. One hand formed a seal and struck toward the meridian at Bai Ning’s wrist, channeling deep, righteous spiritual power into the channels, making contact with the black malevolent curses within — causing them to run rampant.

A bone-eroding, icy malevolent chill surged out from the meridians. Bai Ning spat out a mouthful of dark blood. At the same moment, the substitute effigy in the ritual formation below the altar began to tremble. The seven orifices that had been marked with blood mixed with cinnabar began to seep blood.

The substitute effigy teetered on the brink of destruction.

The Willow Immortal’s malevolent will writhed with excitement, staring fixedly at the effigy. The bloodline of the descendants — severed. Bai Ning deserved no less than this.

The moment had arrived.

Yice’s spiritual power was nearly depleted, his complexion ghastly pale. He set the peach-wood sword on the altar table. His hands flew through seals with rapid precision. The tip of one finger — stained with his own blood — pressed to his brow. The hand seals moved with blazing speed, drawing from between his brows a thread of supreme yang and righteous energy, and channeling it into the Three-Five Evil-Slaying Yin-Yang Swords nearby. The swords rose into the air and he caught them in his grip.

Supreme yang, absolute rigidity — this was the essence of pure yang, the vital energy of a boy who had not yet been touched by the world.

A subtle brightness lit Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes. Compared to those useless members of the Rong Family, this disciple of the Maoshan Sect actually had something to offer.

With this energy channeled into them, the Three-Five Evil-Slaying Swords suddenly blazed into a brilliant golden-red — like the flames of divine fire, capable of burning away ten thousand evil curses.

“Mighty Generals of the Five Thunders, Fire-Chariot Commander, Thunder’s Roaring Mandate, Summoning all spirits by decree — purge the taint and eliminate disaster, dissolve all resentment and hatred. I act in urgent accordance with our Founding Master’s edict — SLAY!”

As the final word fell, Yice’s toe touched the ground and he launched himself skyward. The Three-Five Evil-Slaying Swords, now infused with his vital essence, were raised high above him. His Daoist robes snapped and billowed. Above, black clouds churned across the sky, and lightning flickered within them.

A bolt of purple lightning descended from the heavens, plunging into the Three-Five Swords. Electric light coursed through them. Thunder runes and light markings blazed magnificently. The Three-Five Swords left his hand, cleaving down with savage force toward the black serpent.

BOOM.

A tremendous thunderclap detonated. The courtyard shook and shuddered. The black serpent, severed by the Three-Five Swords at its seven-inch point, split apart — the might of heaven and earth was something no creature could withstand.

And that single slash seemed also to sever the evil curse from the substitute effigies entirely. Both effigies were struck by the thunder-fire, exploding with a resounding blast. The righteous thunder-fire burned the effigies to ash, which then crumbled into fine powder and vanished.

Bai Ning let out a sound and spat a mouthful of dark blood, her eyes flying open wide.

Thud.

Yice dropped from midair and fell prostrate on the ground — and the impact shook loose several more mouthfuls of blood. His spiritual power was spent, his whole being utterly drained. Yet he was overcome with elation.

He felt like weeping.

He had brought no shame to the Maoshan Sect.

But in the very next instant, he saw a serpent’s head — its massive maw spread wide — lunging toward him, growing larger and closer.

It was over. His life was finished.