The necrotic pressure slamming into the chamber was suffocating, a physical weight that tasted of grave soil and ancient malice. Even Qin Lu felt his skin prickle. He drew the [Seven Star Sword] in a blur of motion, the blade humming as it tasted the corrupted air.

Judging by the sheer density of the aura, this entity rivaled a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

“Zhen…?”

Emperor Zhang Ju stared at the towering shadow, his face a mask of disbelief. He stumbled forward, knees trembling. “Great… Great Ancestor? Is that you?”

The massive ghost shifted, glowing eyes narrowing as they swept over the intruders. “Hmm? Who are you commoners?”

Zhang Ju bowed deeply, his forehead nearly touching the stone. “Great Ancestor, I am your great-grandson. My name is Zhang Ju, the current Emperor of the Great Zhou.”

“Great-grandson?” The ghost floated lower, black mist swirling around its ethereal robes. It scrutinized Zhang Ju with a predator’s gaze. “There is a trace of the bloodline… Tell me, boy. How many years have passed?”

“It has been one hundred and thirty-five years since your… since your ascension to immortality,” Zhang Ju stammered.

“Ascension? Hmph!”

The ghost—Emperor Wulie—let out a snort that shook the foundations of the hall. A shockwave of resentment blasted outward, shattering the remaining porcelain jars and sending ancient scrolls disintegrating into dust.

“Ascension!” Wulie roared, his voice overlapping with the screams of the damned. “I devoted myself to virtue! I sought the Dao! And that State Preceptor… that vermin… deceived me! I built this mausoleum, drained the treasury for spiritual herbs, and what did he give me? A poison pill that burned my insides to ash!”

“Ah?! How… how could this be?” Zhang Ju staggered back, his world fracturing. The legend of the Ascended Ancestor, the pillar of his royal pride, was nothing but a lie.

Wulie ignored the boy’s despair. His rage was a living thing. “He did not expect that I, a Sovereign of the Realm, protected by the Imperial Dragon Qi, would refuse to fade! I transformed into a spirit on the spot! I demanded his life! He panicked, sealed me in this cursed cauldron, and fled like a coward!”

The ghost’s teeth ground together with the sound of crushing stones. “One hundred years. One hundred years I have rotted in the dark!”

Qin Lu and his companions exchanged grim glances. It was exactly as they had suspected.

Suddenly, Wulie threw his head back and laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated madness.

“But the Heavens have eyes! My constant struggles weakened the seal, and your intrusion brought the influx of Yang energy I needed to shatter it!” He fixed his burning gaze on Zhang Ju. “Grandson, you have done well. You brought these blood sacrifices to me. I will reward you!”

“Heh.”

Gu Can stepped forward, resting his spear on his shoulder. “Old man, you’re confused. We aren’t your grandson’s tribute. We’re the ones who are going to exorcise you.”

Wulie’s head snapped toward the youth. “Insolence! A peasant dares speak to Zhen in such a manner?”

“Peasant?” Gu Can sneered. “Wake up. It’s been a century. Dynasties rise and fall. Your ‘Great Zhou’ is a corpse, and you’re just a ghost living in the past.”

Lu Anchen nodded, his voice cold. “Tragic as your story is, you’ve lingered too long. The State Preceptor is likely dead of old age if he didn’t reach Foundation Establishment. There is no one left to revenge yourself upon. Go to the cycle of reincarnation.”

“Lies! All lies!” Wulie roared, black smoke billowing from his sleeves. “I feel power coursing through me! The world is mine to roam! I will find that sorcerer, and I will devour his soul!”

“Stubborn,” Qin Lu sighed.

“He’s a monster created by an Evil Cultivator,” Gu Can said, leveling his spear. “His existence breeds other ghosts. We can’t let him leave this tomb.”

“Die, insects!”

Wulie swung his sleeve. A torrent of solidified black smoke erupted, screaming through the air like a volley of cannonballs.

“Fight!” Qin Lu commanded.

He thrust his palm forward. Spiritual energy surged, coalescing into a shimmering geometric barrier.

[Spirit Shield Technique]!

BOOM!

The black smoke slammed into the transparent wall, shaking the entire hall. The impact was heavy—terrifyingly so. It was a strike with the raw weight of a Foundation Establishment blow.

But the shield held.

“Now!”

Behind Qin Lu, the team unleashed their counterattack. Lu Anchen and Lu Xuan fired twin beams of purple spiritual light. Cao Yunxi slapped an [Evil Warding Talisman] onto the air, sending it flying like a golden dart. Gu Can roared, hurling a meter-wide fireball from his free hand.

BOOM—!

The combined assault engulfed the Ghost Emperor.

Wulie shrieked as the energies burned his ectoplasm, but his century of accumulated resentment made him durable. He emerged from the smoke, disheveled and furious.

Qin Lu glanced at Zhang Ju, who was sitting dazed in the kill zone. With a flick of his finger, he cast [Object Control Technique]. An invisible hand grabbed the Emperor by the collar and flung him to the far corner of the hall, out of harm’s way.

“You will all become my slaves!” Wulie screamed.

He opened his arms, and the hall went dark. A tidal wave of Yin energy exploded from his core, covering the floor in a thick, suffocating carpet of shadow that grasped at their ankles.

“Careful! Area suppression!” Qin Lu warned.

The team scrambled, activating personal barriers and artifacts. The corrosion was intense, eating away at their defenses.

Qin Lu didn’t waste a talisman. He clenched his right hand, and the air crackled with the smell of ozone. Purple arcs of electricity danced between his fingers, intensifying until his hand was a claw of pure lightning.

[Lightning Strike Technique] – Grandmaster Level.

The aura of the lightning acted as a hard counter to the Yin energy, carving a safe zone around him.

“Up.”

Qin Lu channeled his Qi. Using the [Object Control Technique] on his own body, he lifted off the ground, defying gravity. He hovered in the air, robes fluttering, mimicking the flight of a true Foundation Establishment cultivator.

“Go!”

He shot forward like a bolt of lightning, the [Seven Star Sword] trailing a comet-tail of starlight.

Wulie was strong in raw power, but he fought like a mortal king, flailing with instinct rather than technique. Qin Lu saw the opening instantly.

“Die!” Wulie howled, his fingernails elongating into ten ragged daggers as he lunged.

CLANG!

Sparks showered the room as sword met ghost-claw. The impact blew them both backward, but Qin Lu recovered instantly.

“Hahaha! Again!” Wulie blurred, splitting into multiple afterimages to flank the cultivator.

Qin Lu didn’t flinch. His spiritual sense locked onto the real body amidst the illusions. He parried, sidestepped, and riposted, his sword a wall of steel and light.

“Burn him!” Gu Can shouted from below.

The spearman unleashed a sea of fire, forcing the ghost upward. Lu Anchen and Lu Xuan coordinated their beams to box him in.

“Wretched ants!” Wulie opened his mouth, and a stream of black blood sprayed out. In mid-air, the droplets morphed into thousands of buzzing, chitinous beetles.

“Soul-Devouring Insects!” Cao Yunxi cried out.

“Lightning!” Qin Lu ordered.

He expanded the energy in his hand, casting a net of purple lightning that sizzled through the air. The insects popped and fried instantly upon contact, turning to ash before they could reach the group.

“Impossible!” Wulie gasped, his ace in the hole neutralized.

Qin Lu flashed behind him. The [Seven Star Sword] glowed with lethal intent.

“Your reign ended a century ago.”

Shing!

The blade pierced Wulie’s back, erupting from his chest. The ghost stiffened, a miserable howl escaping his lips as the sword’s spiritual energy detonated inside him.

“No… I am the Emperor… I am…”

Wulie’s form destabilized. Cracks of light appeared across his spectral skin. With a final, despairing roar, he exploded into a cloud of dissipating black particles.

A single, pitch-black sphere—a Ghost Core—clattered onto the stone floor.

Qin Lu exhaled, sheathing his sword. The oppressive cold lifted instantly.

“It’s over.”

Zhang Ju walked slowly from the corner. He stared at the spot where his ancestor had vanished, his expression hollow.

“Thank you, Immortal Masters,” the young Emperor whispered. “You helped me see the truth. The path to immortality… was just a scam from the start. A dream built on blood.”

“Knowing is better than living a lie,” Qin Lu said, pocketing the Ghost Core. “Let’s go.”

They emerged from the mausoleum as the sun breached the horizon, bathing the world in clean, golden light.

Zhang Ju looked at the sunrise, a strange sense of peace settling over him. “I have decided. I will abdicate. The Great Zhou dies with him.”

Qin Lu nodded. “A wise choice.”

A few days later, the proclamation shocked the capital. The Great Zhou Dynasty, having stood for over a century, was formally dissolved.

Qin Lu and his party stood on a hill overlooking the city, their mission complete.

“He was pitiful in the end,” Lu Anchen mused. “Tricked for a lifetime, imprisoned for another.”

“He was also a monster,” Gu Can countered. “He would have slaughtered the city if he escaped.”

“That is the cultivation world,” Qin Lu said, turning his back on the mortal capital. “Old stories end, new ones begin. Let’s go home.”