Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

"Do not look it in the eyes," Senior Brother Song Weilong said from behind.

Yang kept his gaze lowered and moved it slowly across the ground without daring to lift his head, as he tried to identify whose gaze he was supposed to be careful of. It took him a moment before he finally figured it out.

It was an enormous statue sitting cross-legged, with an altar table placed at its base holding various ornate incense burners, chalices, ceremonial bowls, and plates for offerings, all of it made of pure glittering gold.

Yang didn't dare move his gaze above the waist of the statue, and turned towards Senior Brother Song Weilong, who had averted his gaze from the statue entirely, looking at the floor or the walls to either side but not at the figure at the end of the chamber. He had also, Yang noticed, tied a strip of cloth across the eyes of the unconscious cultivator.

A sensible precaution in case the man regained consciousness, although Yang had a feeling that he had already seen the fruits of meeting its gaze.

Yang instead, refocused toward the altar and made a point of fixing his gaze on the base of the statue rather than anywhere near its face. Who knew if it might sprout a pair of eyes in place of nipples? He would be screwed if he dared lift his gaze even a little higher.

He tried to see if there was any indication or hint about this place, but considering the self-imposed restriction he was employing on his gaze, it was an exercise in futility.

But Senior Brother Fan Xiao didn't seem to share Yang's paranoia and had moved toward the altar table. And was now leisurely examining the objects arranged on it like he was in an antique shop pursuing the wares. Senior Brother Qing An stood a step behind him, his sword ready, keeping an eye on him.

An unease settled over the chamber. None of them spoke. The sound of water dripping was still present, sounding closer than it had ever been; it was clear this was where the entity wanted to lead its victims, and here they were, practically in its maw, on their own two feet.

Yang was intently watching Senior Brother Fan Xiao, pretty sure that any impending threat would likely be coming from the statue. But he was proved wrong immediately as he heard the whoosh of a drawn blade and from the corner of his eyes saw Senior Brother Yuan Shen slash his sword through the air.

Before Yang could even process the attack, a low hiss sounded at his left flank as a gray, mist-like humanoid form lunged at him from behind a pillar.

Panic seized him, and he threw himself sideways onto the cold floor, crab walking backward as the misty figure closed in. But before it could reach him, cold steel pierced its chest. The specter shrieked and dissolved into thin air as Senior Brother Yuan Shen pulled his sword back.

He scrambled up and had barely found his feet when another attack came, this one targeting Senior Brother Song Weilong. Not a small misty visage this time but rather a fully formed woman in robes with hands clawed, jaws stretched unnaturally wide in a silent scream, lunging at Senior Brother with speed whose sword cleaved through her like butter.

Instinctively, they all seemed to come together in the center of the room with an unsaid agreement, back to back, forming a tight outward-facing ring around the floating carpet.

"We are surrounded," Senior Brother Fan Xiao said. "Make sure to keep your gaze away from the statue."

From the edges of the room, more flickering grey shapes emerged. Twisted silhouettes, the tortured remnants of cultivators who had perished in these halls, glared back at them with expressions of sheer agony. Yang had to wonder when his slice-of-life cultivation storyline had turned into horror show.

"Any tips on dealing with ghosts?" Yang asked, hoping there was a simple enough answer.

"Don’t let them catch you," Senior Brother Qing An said in an irreverent manner. Of course not.

"Chen Yang, stay behind me," Senior Brother Fan Xiao said, using his free hand to push Yang back toward the floating carpet and the cultivator lying on it.

Yang looked at the needles between his knuckles as he thought over his options. He wanted to help. But he also didn't want to be the pig teammate that created issues rather than resolved them. He was the weakest here, and any danger to him was bound to cause distraction for his Senior Brothers.

He put the needles away and pulled out a handful of talismans instead. If nothing else, he could throw them out like confetti at whatever got close enough, and buy a few extra seconds of distraction to help them. His two tiny needles were hardly going to be of much help.

The tide of ghosts surged as more and more misty creatures kept lunging at them.

Senior Brother Fan Xiao slammed his foot onto the stone ground, unleashing a pulse of red qi that rippled outward across the floor in intervals. Wherever the energy washed over, the ghosts hissed and screamed as they dissolved, but the wave did little to slow the continuous onslaught behind them.

"This will not hold forever," Senior Brother Song Weilong said, shooting concentrated qi beams toward the shapes that seemed to be slipping through the barrier.

"They are learning to withstand it," Senior Brother Yuan Shen shouted, cutting a pair of clawed hands that reached for him

"Any ideas?" Senior Brother Zhen Hao called out as his blade kept moving.

Yang peered over Senior Brother Fan Xiao's shoulder and saw that Senior Brother Yuan Shen was right. Though the specters initially dispersed under the red pulse, they were now only burning as they pressed forward with terrifying resolve, ignoring the burning pain.

Senior Brother Fan Xiao also increased the speed and intensity of his red pulses, but the sheer density of the horde threatened to breach the defense.

Then one finally burst through the defensive ring. Senior Brother Qing An disintegrated it with a flick of his wrist. Then another, followed by three more. Each ghost destroyed was instantly replaced by two coming behind it.

Yang hurled a fireball talisman at a phantom missing its jaw, watching the explosion tear it apart, only for the exact same entity to coalesce three feet away, grinning maliciously as it came back for him.

He tossed another talisman, destroying it a second time.

"They are regenerating," he shouted. "I have destroyed the same one twice."

"Killing ghosts is not the same as killing living cultivators," Senior Brother Fan Xiao said, sending a dozen ghost forms dispersing simultaneously. "But there is something off about these. A Nascent Soul cultivator should be able to destroy them permanently. But something is actively strengthening and sustaining them."

"An anchor," Senior Brother Qing An said through gritted teeth, before throwing a technique that resulted in his sword multiplying into hundreds of ghostly blue blades that spun around them like a lethal whirlwind, and cut through the nearest wave of ghosts in every direction at once, temporarily clearing the chamber.

They broke the circle they were forming, quickly killing the stragglers and hurrying to attack the ghosts as they regenerated.

Yang saw that with enough space, his Senior Brothers were now using various wide-area offensive techniques, making sure none got past them, but he could already see Senior Brother Zhen Hao and Yuan Shen straining slightly.

He realized that the regeneration speed seemed to be increasing. He looked at the cultivator lying on the carpet floating next to him, realizing that if they didn't break this cycle of regeneration, exhaustion was inevitable. And once exhaustion hit, it was only a matter of time before they got the makeover needed to lead the next installment of The Mummy franchise.

Yang looked at the statue, making sure his gaze stayed low

"Senior Brother," he shouted over the din of battle, not caring which Senior Brother acted on his words. "Try destroying the statue."

Yang did not understand why they had not already tried it. It seemed like the most obvious thing to do.

He realized why a second later.

The second the words left his mouth, Senior Brother Qing An whipped around with his face twisted into a mask of cold fury. Instead of striking the phantom before him, he shot his sword technique directly at Yang's chest.

Yang, horrified, threw up a defensive talisman by reflex, but it was too slow.

He was going to die.

But Senior Brother Fan Xiao flashed between them, taking the full brunt of Senior Brother Qing An's strike on his own raised blade. Yang winced as the shockwave of the strike rattled the hall.

"Qing An!" Senior Brother Fan Xiao said, his voice careful and level. “This is our Brother.”

Senior Brother Qing An's eyes remained wide, vacant, and fixated on Yang with unbridled hostility, and Yang realized, horrified, that whatever was affecting them seemed to have taken over Senior Brother Qing An completely, and the mere idea of harming the statue seemed to have turned his ire towards him.

Clang!

A clash of steel echoed behind him. Yang spun around to see Senior Brother Yuan Shen intercepting Senior Brother Zhen Hao's sword just inches from his neck.

Senior Brother Zhen Hao had jumped into the air, attempting to cleave Yang in half with a heavy downward strike.

Yang took a ragged breath and looked around him, realizing that he was in big trouble. They were in trouble. Verbalizing the idea of attacking the statue seemed to have resulted in the hostility in the room shifting toward him.

The ghosts were still present and attacking, but his Senior Brothers who had been affected were now focused on Yang instead.

And the source seemed to be that statue, and as Yang looked towards it, he realized it felt a lot more sinister, though he wouldn't look up at it, in fear of looking meeting its eyes.

He remembered what Senior Brother Xiao Zhan had said. Eyes are windows to the soul.

But he also remembered what Master had said.

Yang grabbed another handful of talismans from his storage ring and ran, throwing them toward Senior Brother Zhen Hao, who had broken past Senior Brother Yuan Shen and was lunging at him, hoping Senior Brother Fan Xiao was managing Senior Brother Qing An better.

He leaped onto the altar table, his knees hitting a metal bowl with a clatter as it dropped to the ground.

He turned and saw, as if in slow motion, Senior Brother Yuan Shen, who seemed to have also lost control and was coming towards him, along with Senior Brother Zhen Hao, with burns all over his body. The unconscious cultivator was also awake and looking at him in fury. Senior Brother Song Weilong also tried to dash towards him, only to be stopped and restrained by an energy rope thrown by Senior Brother Fan Xiao.

"Senior Brother. Please hold everyone off," Yang yelled, hoping Senior Brother Fan Xiao would at least be able to keep his wits and keep him safe.

Yang spun around to face the base of the statue. Abandoning all caution, he leaned forward, slammed both hands flat against the cold stone feet of the deity, and pressed his forehead directly against it.

And he burned.

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