Realm Walker

By the time the White-clad Killer Woman appeared, Zhang Yuanqing had already climbed onto the windowsill, ready to throw himself out.

Watching the vengeful spirit approach with her twisted, contorted gait, he felt as though he had been hurled back into Sheling Tunnel, facing off against spirits and jiangshi with nothing but his ordinary human body, with danger at every turn and death lurking in every shadow.

But this was worse than the Mountain God Temple. At least back then he had the main hall as a shelter. Here, in the dream, he had nothing. Items, reinforcements, skills—all of it had vanished. Nothing from the real world could be carried into a dream.

Wait. A forgotten object surfaced in his mind. The Dream Entry Jade Talisman!

The consumable Master Wuhen had given him—an Illusionist class item produced by the Nightmare Machine. It belonged to the same domain as the dream itself. Could it manifest here?

He couldn’t open his Inventory, but that didn’t matter. If the talisman belonged to the dream domain, perhaps it didn’t need to be activated from reality. If this was a dream, then what would happen if he simply imagined it into existence?

The White-clad Killer Woman drew closer with every lurching step. Zhang Yuanqing abandoned all hesitation and decided to try.

He focused his mind, visualizing the contours of the black jade stone. During that process, one foot slipped past the edge of the windowsill.

The vengeful spirit had already backed her way to the window. The bones in her arm cracked as it and rotated a full hundred and eighty degrees to raise the rust-covered cleaver high overhead.

In that instant, a faint halo of deep, abyssal black light bloomed above Zhang Yuanqing’s head.

A low hum reverberated through the air. The cleaver that had carved a gash into a steel security door with ease was stopped cold by the dark halo. Then that ring of black light exploded outward, swallowing the entire dream, draping the room in a funereal veil.

The scene around him began to warp and shift. Simple stone bricks replaced the elmwood floor, the plain plaster ceiling above him was replaced by an ornate canvas painted with celestial deities, and the harsh glare of electric lights gave way to the warm, dancing glow of candlelight.

Zhang Yuanqing looked around. He was in the ancient temple again. The towering Buddha statue reached all the way to the caisson ceiling, and below it sat a familiar figure in a patchwork-blue robe, back turned toward him.

The White-clad Killer Woman stood frozen a few meters away, cleaver still raised overhead, locked in place as though struck by an immobilization spell.

Zhang Yuanqing exhaled in relief. The Dream Entry Jade Talisman had worked. Joy surged through him, raw and genuine. He had survived. He had clawed his way back from the brink.

He glanced down at his chest. The knife wound was still there, but for some reason, the bleeding had stopped.

He pressed his palms together immediately and bowed toward the monk’s silhouette. ”Thank you for saving my life, Master.”

Having witnessed Master Wuhen’s power firsthand, Zhang Yuanqing felt his respect deepen even further. So this was the strength of the Sovereign tier.

The master kept his back to him. His voice was low and ethereal, as though straining to suppress some deep, abiding pain, as it echoed through the temple hall. ”What have you gotten yourself into?”

A parade of suspicions flickered through Zhang Yuanqing’s mind, but in the end he shook his head. ”I’m not sure. But after visiting the inn today, I received a text message about the White-clad Killer Woman, an urban legend about a spirit that enters dreams to kill. After that, she came for me.”

He glanced at the vengeful spirit nearby, wondering what her face looked like beneath that veil of long hair. But then he noticed the black blood dripping steadily from her form and decided he would rather not know.

Master Wuhen’s voice echoed through the hall once more. ”This is likely an item. One that combines the powers of both the Illusionist and Nocturnal Specter classes. It isn’t a low-ranking item either.”

So it really was connected to the Illusionist class. But what was this about an item combining two different professions?

Zhang Yuanqing furrowed his brow. ”Items can have the abilities of two classes at once?”

The master fell silent for a moment, seemingly surprised that his guest lacked even this basic knowledge.

”The Scholar class possesses an Artifact Forging skill that can produce items that blend the characteristics of two or more classes,” he explained. ”However, this is limited to lower-level items. The higher the grade, the greater the incompatibility between the elements to be fused.”

Zhang Yuanqing’s thoughts churned. Could the Xiahou family be behind this? No, that didn’t track. Xiahou Xin and his son were both dead, and Xiahou Chi was imprisoned in the zoo. The rest of the family had no reason to kill him. If they did, why would they have turned on Xiahou Tianyuan so readily?

He sank into contemplation. After a while, he glanced at the monk’s silhouette and a thought struck him. Why was he trying to figure this out on his own?

”Master, I want to know who is trying to kill me. Do you have any guidance?”

The master’s calm voice resonated through the temple. ”Spirit communion.”

Of course. The White-clad Killer Woman was technically an item, but she was also a spirit entity. And anything that was a spirit entity, he could devour. Zhang Yuanqing’s face lit up, but the excitement faded almost instantly. ”But I’m inside a dream right now. I can’t use my skills.”

”I will use the dream’s power to trap it and seal it within your sea of consciousness,” Master Wuhen explained patiently. ”When you wake in reality, you can devour it then.”

Zhang Yuanqing was overjoyed. He pressed his palms together and bowed deeply. ”Thank you, Master Wuhen.”

***

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a familiar ceiling above him. He was lying on a soft bed, a thin cooling quilt draped over his body.

Immediately, he hissed through his teeth. A wave of searing pain radiated from his chest, and the thick, coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils.

Zhang Yuanqing threw back the covers and looked down. A grotesque slash gaped across his chest, carved deep enough to part the flesh and expose bone. The bleeding had stopped, but even a Nocturnal Specter’s regenerative abilities would need considerable time to close a wound this severe.

”So, injuries from the dream carry over to reality,” he muttered. ”That was way too close.”

The memory of what had happened in the dream sent a chill crawling down his spine. If not for Master Wuhen’s Dream Entry Jade Talisman, the Five Elements Alliance would have lost a promising young talent.

He didn’t dare think about how his family would have reacted.

The Illusionist class really does deserve its reputation as one of the three great evil professions. Every apex class has its terrors. I got lucky tonight and scraped by with my life, but if the person behind this isn’t dealt with, then tomorrow, or the day after that... I’ll be in danger all over again

Master Wuhen’s talisman was a single-use item. He had only been given one, which meant the master couldn’t bail him out a second time.

Zhang Yuanqing steadied his emotions and closed his eyes. Before long, he sensed it, lurking deep within his consciousness: a presence of overwhelming yin and malice, savage and violent, but clamped down by an immense force that held it firmly in check.

He was about to devour the evil spirit when he realized there was nobody around to purify him afterward. So he played it safe, opened his Inventory, and summoned the Demon-subduing Awl.

Then he released Little Goofball. Since the upgrade, the infant spirit could interact with physical objects now, which made him a genuine asset.

Little Goofball stared in shock at his blood soaked master, utterly baffled by what had happened. ”Abba abba?”

”After I close my eyes, I need you to wait for a while, then stab me with it,” he told the spirit servant.

He gestured and mimed until the infant spirit finally grasped the complicated instruction. Little Goofball held the Demon-subduing Awl gingerly in his tiny arms, clearly terrified of the weapon, and nodded his wispy-haired head with exaggerated determination.

Good boy. Zhang Yuanqing lay back on the bed with a measure of peace, closed his eyes, and prepared to commune with the vengeful spirit sealed in his sea of consciousness.

A sharp pain exploded in his shin, accompanied by a brilliant eruption of golden light. Purifying energy surged through every fiber of his body.

Zhang Yuanqing sat bolt upright, his expression frozen somewhere between disbelief and exasperation. He looked toward Little Goofball, who had already retreated to the far side of the room near the window.

His mouth twitched. ”I literally just closed my eyes.”

A few minutes later, after laying out the instructions one more time, Zhang Yuanqing closed his eyes again. He deliberately waited several seconds. It seemed Little Goofball truly understood the assignment this time. Satisfied, Zhang Yuanqing settled his emotions and reached into his sea of consciousness to commune with the evil spirit.

His awareness expanded violently. Fragments of memory flooded his mind, carried on a tide of raw, corrosive negative emotion.

***

The images shifted from chaos to clarity. He was beneath a dim and oppressive sky, covered in heavy black clouds that hung above a small town built in the classic Jiangnan waterside style.

On a stone-paved lane, a corpse lay sprawled with its chest torn open in a bloody ruin.

The scene shifted. More bodies, different ones, were scattered across various corners of the town. Some lay in the streets, others in old courtyard houses, while a few were draped across stone arch bridges.

Understanding crystallized in Zhang Yuanqing’s mind. This vengeful spirit was the boss of some Nocturnal Specter’s solo Spirit Realm dungeon. After an indeterminate stretch of time, someone had finally cleared that dungeon, and the evil spirit had become the lucky victor’s reward, manifesting in the form of an antique celadon vase.

The scene changed. Inside a cramped shop crammed floor to ceiling with miscellaneous goods, a woman stood behind the counter. She wore a black tube top and loose fitting pants, every inch the picture of sultry glamour. A slender lady’s cigarette was pinched between her fingertips.

She exhaled a plume of white smoke through painted crimson lips and laughed. ”You’re looking for an item that can kill most Spirit Realm Walkers?”

She turned and rummaged through the cluttered shelves behind her, packed with all manner of objects and instruments, before producing a battered old cell phone. ”This item combines the power of dreams and evil spirits. Compose a text message, send it to the target’s number, and the spirit housed inside the phone will infiltrate their dreams and kill them.

”It’s ineffective against Level 3 Scouts, Level 3 Enchanting Demons, and Level 3 Illusionists. Against everything else, it’s basically a guaranteed kill. It’s not expensive either. I’m asking for five million. And since you’re a steward of the Five Elements Alliance, I’ll cut you a deal. Four million. I’ll send you the contents for the text message later.”

A hand reached out and took the battered phone. ”Deal.”

Zhang Yuanqing followed that hand upward. He saw a man in a white judo uniform, square-jawed and stern-faced.

It was Steward Pang.

The image rippled like the surface of still water disturbed by a dropped stone, and a new memory revealed itself underneath. In a lavishly-decorated bedroom, Steward Pang sat at a desk, his expression cold and detached as he composed a text message.

The message was only half-finished when the world was shattered in a blaze of golden light.

***

Zhang Yuanqing’s eyes snapped open. The Demon-subduing Awl lay on the floor by his feet. Little Goofball had retreated to a spot near his gaming console, his belly touching the ground, tiny arms propping up his body, his round dark eyes open wide, watching his master with earnest attention.

”I’m fine. You did great,” Zhang Yuanqing reassured the infant spirit, then fell into deep thought.

Why would Steward Pang want to kill him? They had no connection, no grudge. Why would the man want him dead? Well, Steward Pang was close to the Xiahou family and served as one of their connections within the authorities. Zhang Yuanqing had been responsible for putting Xiahou Tianyuan behind bars, so perhaps that was motive enough.

The motive was there, but something still felt incomplete.

Regardless, he had destroyed the man’s item, which meant they were now true enemies. Once Steward Pang learned his target had survived, retaliation was all but certain. Therefore, the man had to die. He had no desire to relive that nightmare.

More importantly, Steward Pang was at the Saint tier. This time he had resorted to an item for a covert assassination because he didn’t want to leave a trail. But if he decided to act personally the next time, Zhang Yuanqing knew he stood no chance against a Saint-tier Walker.

Could I report this to Fu Qingyang? The problem is I have no evidence. Without proof, even Fu Qingyang can’t just move against a steward of equal rank.

Another idea came to mind. He could ask the Palace Master of Slaughter Cessation Palace to intervene and take care of it. But he dismissed the thought almost immediately.

Setting aside whether the Palace Master would even agree, if she did go through with it, I’d be handing her a fatal piece of leverage. She’d have me wrapped around her finger. Knowing that lunatic, she’d probably start with the whips and candle wax.

What about asking Master Wuhen?

A figure of that caliber wasn’t someone he could afford to call upon. He had already settled the debt owed for passing on Ashamed Father’s message by saving him earlier that night.

Zhang Yuanqing felt the full weight of the predicament pressing down on him. After turning it over from every angle, he decided to tell Fu Qingyang.

On one hand, the centurion was his superior. If a subordinate got assassinated, any leader worth his salt would step up. Judging by how Fu Qingyang had handled the Xiahou Tianyuan situation, the man was deeply proud. The people under his protection were not to be touched.

On the other hand, Fu Qingyang would surely recognize the implications. If Steward Pang failed once, he would certainly try again. Left unchecked, his Nocturnal Specter subordinate was as good as dead.

If, after hearing all of this, the centurion’s response was to hesitate and cite a lack of evidence, it would mean he didn’t value Zhang Yuanqing enough, and that he considered him an expendable piece on the board. In that case, Zhang Yuanqing would have no choice but to reach out to Slaughter Cessation Palace and leave the official organization to become a freelance Walker. That was the worst case scenario, but it still beat being murdered.

His mind made up, Zhang Yuanqing dialed Fu Qingyang’s number. The phone rang for a long time before someone finally picked up.

Fu Qingyang’s cold, emotionless voice came through the speaker.

—I gave you my number. I did not give you permission to call me in the middle of the night.

I’ll try to keep that in mind, Zhang Yuanqing noted wryly, then took a deep breath and got straight to the point. ”Centurion, Steward Pang is trying to kill me.”

Several seconds passed in silence before the centurion spoke again.

—Explain.

Zhang Yuanqing recounted the night’s events in full, omitting nothing except Master Wuhen’s identity. He said only that a powerful Walker he was acquainted with had come to his aid. He knew the story had holes, and he was certain Fu Qingyang could see right through them. If the centurion pressed for details, he would come clean. Otherwise, he would play dumb.

—Come to me. Right now.

”I’m afraid I can’t,” Zhang Yuanqing said as he let his voice go weak, managing a wry smile the centurion couldn’t see. ”I’m badly wounded.”

The centurion’s voice lost all its imperiousness.

—You’re injured?

”Give me half an hour of rest and I should be much better,” Zhang Yuanqing replied. ”But right now, I can’t move.”

Fu Qingyang’s voice turned to ice.

—I’ll notify Li Dongze. His driver will come to pick you up. I will handle this before dawn.

How exactly do you plan to handle it? Zhang Yuanqing wondered, but he held the question back and instead said weakly, ”Understood. Thank you, Centurion.”

He hung up and grimaced. ”Best case, he kills Steward Pang. If not, imprisonment works too.”

Gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his chest, he stripped off the blood-soaked quilt, bed sheets, and clothes, stuffing them all into the closet.

After a quick cleanup of the scene, Zhang Yuanqing propped himself against the headboard and opened his Status panel to check his experience.

The day he cleared Jinshui Amusement Park, his experience had sat at twenty three percent. Later, after using Spirit communion on Rampaging Recklessly and Xiahou Tianyuan, along with a smattering of ordinary lost souls, his experience had climbed to twenty eight percent.

Devouring the evil spirit from earlier that night had added another five percent.

The whole ”too weak to move” routine was an act, designed to win Fu Qingyang’s sympathy. He was brimming with energy. The Power of the Dark Moon coursed through him thicker and richer than before, and both his constitution and skills had improved.

***

Half an hour later, Zhang Yuanqing slipped quietly out of the house, took the elevator downstairs, and waited outside the residential compound.

Before long, Li Dongze’s black SUV pulled up to the entrance, and the electric door slid open automatically.

Some twenty minutes later, the car came to a stop outside the Fu Family Bay. Another vehicle, a white SUV, was already parked at the community entrance.

Zhang Yuanqing stepped out of his vehicle as the white van’s window lowered, revealing Fu Qingyang’s handsome face. He walked over quickly and climbed into the luxuriously appointed vehicle.

Fu Qingyang studied him briefly, and a measure of tension left his expression. ”The Nocturnal Specter’s self healing is something to envy.”

Before Zhang Yuanqing could respond, the centurion addressed his driver. ”Move.”

The car surged forward, racing through the empty, open streets, and Zhang Yuanqing seized the moment. ”Centurion, what’s the plan?”

Fu Qingyang answered evenly. ”Kill him. Then use spirit communion.”

He glanced at his subordinate’s stunned expression and elaborated, ”Attacking a fellow member of the Alliance is a capital offense. Beyond that, I suspect he is a member of Dark Rose, working in collusion with Black Wuchang.”

A Dark Rose member? Zhang Yuanqing was startled. ”What makes you think that?”

Steward Pang was close to the Xiahou family. Members of Xiahou Chi’s bloodline had been confirmed to be Dark Rose operatives, and the organization had also infiltrated the authorities.

The possibility of Steward Pang being part of Dark Rose was real. Zhang Yuanqing had entertained similar suspicions during his own analysis, but he had concluded that Dark Rose lacked the motive to target someone as small as him. An organization of that scale wouldn’t waste resources going after a minor player. If they did, then everyone on the team—Guan Ya, White Dragon, Green Vine, and even Jiang Jingwei—would be in danger too.

If they were going to assassinate anyone, it should have been Fu Qingyang himself. Unless Dark Rose knew that he was the Demon Lord’s heir. But in that case, they wouldn’t have bothered with assassination. They would have tried to capture him.

”Do you remember the night you were ambushed by Rampaging Recklessly?” Fu Qingyang said. ”I wasn’t in Kangyang District. I was in Fenghua District. That evening, someone picked up Black Wuchang’s trail at an abandoned factory there.”

His voice remained placid. ”The person who’d come to me requesting backup was Pang Wudi.”

Zhang Yuanqing blinked. ”You’ve suspected him all along?”

”I wasn’t certain, so I waited and watched. Your encounter tonight confirmed my suspicions.”