Having witnessed the fearsome power of the Spirit Witch’s twin-headed Golden Scale Serpent, Lang Jiuchuan thought to herself that life-bonded Gu were truly extraordinary — even its toxic mist alone could corrode stone walls. If it landed on a person, how could they possibly survive?

It was fortunate that she had prepared a Displacement Technique in advance, maintaining her defenses with extreme care. Otherwise, wouldn’t she have been reduced to a pool of blood by now?

She raised her alertness and caution to their highest, and simultaneously split her attention to condense a layer of vital energy with her mind, wrapping it around her entire body to prevent the toxic mist from touching her and dissolving her into blood. At the same time, her talisman brush transformed into a blade and summoned the divine power.

A force capable of severing all evil and malevolence emanated from the blade’s edge. In a single stroke, she cleaved off one of the red serpent heads.

The Golden Scale Serpent writhed and thrashed in midair from the pain, letting out piercing, shrill infant-like wails that unsettled the mind, while toxic mist poured endlessly from its mouth, corroding the entire room with a relentless sizzling.

And having lost one head of the twin-headed serpent she was life-bonded to, the Spirit Witch spat out a mouthful of black blood. That face that had appeared to be only twelve or thirteen began to change — rapidly aging before their eyes.

The Spirit Witch clutched her head and screamed. Her divine soul was in agony, such terrible agony.

She raised her head. Both eyes had turned blood-red — just like the serpent’s eyes — dark and eerie. She shrieked: “You dare sever my Golden Scale’s head! I will render you into human refuse and make you wish for death…”

“Enough prattling!” Lang Jiuchuan brought the blade down in one stroke, her body spinning, whipping the blade toward the witch: “Celestial Vajra Suppresses Evil!”

The Golden Scale Serpent was horrified. It coiled around the Spirit Witch and dodged the blade, while its tail lashed out with savage force, cracking several fissures into the wall. Roof tiles came crashing down. Ceiling beams tilted and collapsed.

The Spirit Witch screamed with seething hatred. Ever since she had refined the Golden Scale as her life-bonded Gu, she had never suffered such a devastating defeat. Now, having suffered blow after blow in rapid succession, she felt it as a towering humiliation.

She bit through the tip of her tongue and spat a spray of blood mist onto the remaining head of the Golden Scale twin-headed serpent. Atop that head sat an enormous fleshy tumor, pulsing in and out rhythmically, as though countless serpent eggs inside were waiting to hatch.

The blood mist touched the tumor and, sure enough, countless tiny golden-red serpents came flying out of it — like a school of fish, thick and swarming, tongues flickering, shooting toward Lang Jiuchuan in a dense mass.

Lang Jiuchuan withdrew the talisman brush, formed seals with both hands, reached for the Dizhong bell at her waist, and struck it once.

Om.

Countless golden light seal-script characters manifested in midair and pressed down upon the serpents.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

Bathed in the golden light, the small serpents dissolved into ash and scattered.

The Golden Scale Serpent writhed in pain, its serpent body twisting and rolling continuously. Its pair of golden eyes shifted into vertical pupils, and within those pupils, something like golden magma slowly congealed.

The Spirit Witch caught up in its coils was faring no better. She was a body of mere mortal flesh — being dragged through all this rolling and thrashing had her bones groaning with every movement. On top of that, the severing of the Golden Scale’s head had wounded her divine soul, leaving her complexion ashen and threads of blood seeping from the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Lang Jiuchuan, so full of hatred it seemed she wished she could eat her flesh and drink her blood.

Lang Jiuchuan caught sight of the golden magma within the Golden Scale Serpent’s vertical pupils. A chill ran down her spine. Her divine soul shuddered faintly.

The golden magma within the Golden Scale Serpent’s eyes could bewitch the mind. And wherever its gaze swept, the body felt as though scorched by flames — scalding and searing hot. Its power was truly formidable.

Recalling what the Spirit Witch had said about the Corpse-Rotting Gu — that it needed to devour a soul to ascend to sovereignty — and seeing what a devastating power this life-bonded Gu had been cultivated to, could it be that this too had been achieved by consuming someone’s soul?

And whoever that person had been — their divine soul must have been extraordinarily powerful!

Lang Jiuchuan silently heightened her vigilance. The full force of her power surged forth, channeled outward through the Dizhong bell — a web of sutras and incantations fusing both the Buddhist and Daoist traditions spread out like a golden-light net across the entire room.

Her complexion had gone deathly pale, yet she did not allow herself to show even a sliver of slackening.

At last, the Golden Scale Serpent erupted into violence.

It spread its vertical pupils wide. The golden magma within those eyes transformed into a dense golden mist — thick as porridge — and sprayed toward Lang Jiuchuan.

Lang Jiuchuan’s pupils constricted sharply. Her skin felt as though it were splitting open. Her expression grim and composed, she tossed the Dizhong bell from her hand, rapidly formed seals with both palms, and called out in a low voice: “Draw down heavenly thunder — annihilate demon and evil. As the bell sounds, let the Five Thunders descend. By my command as disciple, I invoke the Celestial Venerable — slay the wicked!”

A seal impression dissolved into the air.

In the sky above, deep within thick dark clouds, lightning began to stir.

The Spirit Witch’s hair stood on end. This was bad. She twisted her wrist and slapped her own chest with a reverse strike, attempting to shrink the Golden Scale Serpent — which had by now grown to the size of an adult — back into a small snake. But she was too late.

Just as the Golden Scale Serpent began to shrink, a bolt of pure Yang, supremely unyielding Five-Vajra Celestial Thunder pierced through the roof and came crashing down. An arm-thick column of violet lightning struck the Golden Scale Serpent’s remaining head, and it and the Spirit Witch both let out agonized, desperate screams at the same moment.

The moment could not be missed.

Lang Jiuchuan summoned the talisman brush blade once more. Her hand rose and fell — she cleaved off the serpent’s remaining head. At the same time, she hurled a Vajra Flame talisman at it.

Boom!

The Golden Scale Serpent, now headless, had already shrunk down to a small size. It dropped to the ground, emitting a shrill, piercing cry.

The Spirit Witch, still coiled in its body, was hurled heavily to the ground as well. She began retching mouthfuls of black blood, her skin rapidly wrinkling, rapidly aging — she quickly took on the appearance of an old crone, her skin puckered and creased all over, her eyes grown murky and dim.

As for the Golden Scale Serpent, it kept shrinking smaller and smaller. Without any hesitation, Lang Jiuchuan brought another talisman slamming down upon it and said, “You enjoy playing with serpents so much — you’re quite well-matched with the phrase ‘venomous as a viper.’ But now — crippled.”

With her life-bonded Gu gone, the Spirit Witch’s divine soul was racked with agonizing pain. She crushed the red bone bracelet on her wrist and hurled it at Lang Jiuchuan, then gritted her teeth against the excruciating pain of her legs being torn open by the small paper figure and hauled herself upright, staggering and lurching toward the door in a desperate run.

Better to preserve one’s life and live to fight another day.

She flung out the bone bracelet, from which flew several poisonous scorpions radiating cold light, their finger-length tail stingers shooting jets of venom. Lang Jiuchuan stepped through the Vajra Stance, swept her sleeve outward, and released streak after streak of intent like a rushing gale.

Sizzle. Sizzle. Sizzle.

The smell of scorched flesh rose in the air.

The several poisonous scorpions were incinerated, and they fell to the ground.

The Spirit Witch ran out of the room, burst through the courtyard gate — and froze.

What was this? Hadn’t she just gone out?

She bit her tongue and ran again. But very quickly, her expression darkened.

What a deeply laid scheme. That young girl had apparently laid a formation in this courtyard long in advance. Was she truly going to come to ruin here today?

Suddenly the Spirit Witch’s entire body tensed. A ferocious aura of slaughter pressed in from behind. Just as she spun around, that killing aura drove straight into her divine mind.

Iron cavalry and warhorses, blood mist surging to the sky, killing energy dense as thick fog, countless screams and mournful wails churning through her divine mind in agony.

She saw countless vengeful spirits reaching for her with their hands, trying to tear her to pieces, clutching at her, dragging her toward an abyss of endless hell and a sea of blood.

And in that boundless sea of blood, alongside the countless lost souls, were countless venomous creatures as well — eroding her internal organs, gnawing at her soul. Then suddenly, flames erupted across the sea of blood — growing larger and larger, surrounding her on all sides.

To be scorched by those raging flames was something no human being could endure.

The Spirit Witch screamed. Her life was draining away at terrifying speed. Her divine soul was being ground apart.

The Spirit Witch was in too much pain to even whimper. Her whole body trembled like a sieve. Her eyelids fluttered. Through the sea of blood, she watched the blood slowly coalesce into a figure of blood — who walked toward her, extended a hand, and revealed a smile: “Retribution is never delayed.”

The Spirit Witch cried out in anguish: “Master…”

The backlash had come.