Chapter 129: Walking with Phantoms

The specter possessing the old shopkeeper was clearly no match for the young man. After a few more exchanges, its body was run through by a sword. The specter recoiled violently, yet it did not die; the sword wound on its body began to squirm and heal rapidly. However, Lu Yan could see that its aura had weakened significantly.

"So this is a specter. It really is no different from the vengeful ghosts in folk legends." Lu Yan observed silently, not rushing to intervene. A specter's body seemed to be composed of eerie energy, existing between the physical and the ethereal, which explained how it had been able to possess the shopkeepers. Even when struck, they could recover quickly, but they were not impervious to harm; the force of bone energy clearly inflicted substantial damage upon them. Both specters possessed strength roughly equivalent to the first stage of the Martial Marquis realm.

"This kid is tough; we are no match for him. Retreat!" screamed the specter battling the young man, as it quickly fell back. The one fighting the ponytail-wearing woman also retreated rapidly, joining its companion and dashing toward the mountain forest behind them.

"Brother, I am Zhao Sirong of Lingwang City. Would you be willing to join forces with us to exterminate these two? If they escape, the consequences will be endless, and who knows how many innocent people will fall victim to their cruelty?" The woman with the ponytail cupped her hands toward Lu Yan. Earlier, when Lu Yan had waved his palm to disperse the poison powder, he had already revealed his cultivation as a Martial Marquis.

"Surname Zhao... the Zhao Clan of Lingwang City." A thought stirred in Lu Yan’s mind. Initially, he had no intention of interfering, but upon hearing that the woman was from the Zhao Clan, he changed his mind instantly. The *Heart-Tempering Art* was likely held by the Zhao Clan. To obtain it, he would inevitably need to make contact with them. Was this not the perfect opportunity?

"Evil spirits and specters plague the common people; every man is obligated to slay them. I, Lu, shall not stand by. Let us pursue and not let them escape!" Lu Yan declared, joining Zhao Sirong in the chase.

The two specters moved as if weightless, flickering and darting with extreme speed. For a moment, the woman and the young man struggled to keep up. Lu Yan, careful not to reveal too much of his own speed, kept pace with them. The three burly martial artists who had broken their limits lagged far behind.

"Little girl, I am curious: how did you discover that something was wrong with us?" one of the specters asked while fleeing, seemingly still brooding over being exposed.

"Martial artist flesh and donkey meat are not the same," Zhao Sirong replied. This aligned with Lu Yan’s own thoughts. The reason he hadn't eaten the buns was because of their smell. Martial artists, who consumed martial foods year-round and tempered their bodies with blood and energy, possessed a completely different scent. An ordinary person might not discern it, but with his powerful physique, keen senses, and hunting experience, Lu Yan had smelled the difference the moment the buns were placed on the table. He simply hadn't expected them to be poisoned.

"Heh, so that's it," the specter sneered. Lacking a sense of smell, it had subconsciously overlooked that detail.

The chase tore through the mountain forest for over ten miles. The young man, utilizing his full cultivation of the second stage of the Martial Marquis realm, outpaced Zhao Sirong and gradually closed in on the two specters.

"Split up!" one of the specters commanded. They immediately diverged, fleeing in two different directions.

"Split up to pursue!" the young man shouted to Zhao Sirong and Lu Yan.

Lu Yan frowned slightly and said, "Be careful. Splitting up might lead us into an ambush where they pick us off one by one."

"You are overthinking it. These two specters are only equivalent to the first stage of the Martial Marquis realm; what is there to fear? Besides, if they had help, they would have appeared already. There is no need for them to split up. These specters are a scourge; we must annihilate them today. If one escapes, who knows how many will die at their hands?" The young man said coldly, "If you are afraid, stay with Sister Sirong for mutual support. I will chase one alone."

What more could Lu Yan say? He had only offered a well-intentioned warning. Was he afraid? Zhao Sirong agreed with the young man’s opinion. Immediately, the three of them split up. Relying on his second-stage Martial Marquis cultivation, the young man pursued one specter alone, while Lu Yan and Zhao Sirong chased the other.

The young man, Zhao Hao, also a member of the Zhao Clan and a cousin to Zhao Sirong, pushed his speed to the limit. Soon, he was closing in on his target. *Swish!* His sword light slashed toward the specter's back. The creature relied on its eerie movement to evade the attack, and after a few exchanges, it fled once more. They continued this dance of combat and flight for another ten miles. During this time, Zhao Hao struck the specter several times, weakening it further.

But suddenly, the specter stopped and wore a cold sneer.

"Die!" Zhao Hao lunged with his sword, but a shadow suddenly manifested before the specter. It was another specter, appearing in the form of a gaunt, wizened old man. Zhao Hao was startled, but gritting his teeth, he pressed the attack toward the elder specter. The elder remained expressionless, flicking its hand. A surge of gray energy struck Zhao Hao’s sword, causing it to vibrate violently and fly from his hand, pinning itself into a tree dozens of meters away.

Zhao Hao reeled back as if struck by lightning. *Swish!* The elder specter flickered, appearing right in front of Zhao Hao, their faces nearly touching. Terrified, Zhao Hao screamed, unleashing all his bone energy—not to attack, but to flee backward.

It was too late. The elder specter struck his abdomen with a palm. Zhao Hao vomited a mouthful of blood, flew back a dozen meters, and collapsed to the ground.

"Fifth stage of the Martial Marquis realm... a specter equivalent to the fifth stage," Zhao Hao roared internally, his face pale with profound fear. His father was a master of the fifth stage; he could not be mistaken about this level of aura. There had truly been an ambush, and it was led by a specter of the fifth stage. He was doomed. But he did not want to die.

"Spare me! Spare my life! I am a direct descendant of the Zhao Clan of Lingwang City. I can give you silver, martial food, martial arts manuals, resources—anything you want! Please, spare me!" Zhao Hao struggled to his feet, begging repeatedly. Although he knew that pleading with a specter was likely futile, he was desperate and terrified, grasping at even the slimmest chance. Only when facing death did he realize how much he feared it.

"Heh, really? Anything I want?" the elder specter sneered.

"Yes, anything!" Zhao Hao nodded frantically, trembling as the specter approached. His fighting spirit and resolve had completely crumbled; now, he only wanted to live.

"I want your body," the elder specter replied.

"My... my body?" Zhao Hao asked, bewildered.

"Cease your resistance, disperse your bone energy, and let me enter your body. Then, you will take me into Lingwang City," the elder said.

"You want to possess me? To get inside my body?" Zhao Hao asked in horror. He understood now: the entity wanted to use his body to infiltrate Lingwang City and sow destruction from within. Once a specter infiltrated the city, the consequences would be catastrophic. But he couldn't care about that anymore. Better for others to die than him. He didn't want to die. "Fine, I agree."

"Do not resist. If I sense even a shred of defiance, I will kill you instantly," the elder specter said with a chilling glare.

"Yes, yes, I promise!" Zhao Hao nodded repeatedly, dispersing his bone energy throughout his skeletal structure. He knelt on the ground, head bowed, stripped of all will to resist. The elder specter transformed into a gray shadow, surged into Zhao Hao’s body, and vanished.

A moment later, Zhao Hao stood up, his expression complex. "Remember, do not reveal any flaws. Act as if you have never seen me, understand? Your life and death are now in my hands," a voice echoed in Zhao Hao’s mind. Zhao Hao nodded, straightened his disheveled clothes and hair, drew his sword, and began to head back the way he came.

***

Lu Yan and Zhao Sirong had chased the other specter for five or six miles until it fled into a village. A stone marker at the entrance identified it as Mangwu Village. The village was deathly silent; not a single soul was in sight. Both realized the village was finished. Once inside, they lost the trail, so they slowed their pace to investigate, wary of an ambush.

"These specters are quite peculiar; they resemble the vengeful ghosts of folklore," Lu Yan whispered. He knew little about such evil spirits. To him, their aura felt strangely similar to that of a Martial Spirit.

"Specters and vengeful ghosts are one and the same; they just go by different names," Zhao Sirong explained in a low voice. "Specters are born when a martial artist dies with immense resentment and, through fortuitous coincidence, absorbs filthy energy. They are rare but troublesome. While some evil spirits lack intelligence and act like beasts, specters are different—they possess the same intelligence as humans and can possess others. Fortunately, the blood, energy, and bone force of a martial artist can inflict massive damage upon them."

"If they can possess others, can they possess martial artists?" Lu Yan asked.

"They can, but it is extremely difficult," Zhao Sirong said. "Ordinary people are easy targets for possession, like the old couple earlier. But a martial artist’s blood and energy are like a roaring furnace; attempting to forcibly possess one only leads to the specter’s destruction. Only when a martial artist lacks any will to resist and abandons all defiance can the possession succeed. Such people are usually cowards who cling to life."

Lu Yan nodded; that was a relief. To ordinary people, specters were terrifying, but to martial artists, they could be crushed. Compared to Martial Spirits, they were much easier to handle. Fear stemmed from ignorance; having understood more, Lu Yan felt his confidence return.

Soon, they reached the center of the village and discovered a deep pit. It was filled with hundreds of corpses. They looked as though they had died only a few days ago and had not yet rotted. Judging by their clothing, they were the villagers. Their eyes were wide open, as if they had witnessed something unimaginably horrific.

"These specters slaughtered these villagers just to absorb their filthy energy," Zhao Sirong said, her face flushed with rage and murderous intent.

Lu Yan recalled reading about 'filthy energy' in an obscure book. It was said that the world was filled with dense, invisible, and odorless filthy energy that ordinary people could not detect. When birds, beasts, or martial artists died, they might inadvertently absorb this energy, mutating into evil spirits or specters. These entities could then actively absorb this energy from the world to strengthen themselves. The corpse gas, malevolent energy, and resentment left behind after death were all forms of this filthy energy. Lu Yan surmised that the specters had slaughtered the villagers to generate resentment, which they then absorbed to cultivate. Their methods were even more ruthless than those of a Martial Spirit.

"Watch out!" Lu Yan suddenly warned, pulling Zhao Sirong back a yard. A shadow lunged from a nearby thatched hut, its black, razor-sharp claws radiating a chilling, ghostly aura, slicing through the ground where they had just stood. It was the specter that had fled earlier.

"Specter, you must die!" Zhao Sirong recovered, channeling her bone energy and thrusting her spear to engage the creature.

Just then, one of the corpses in the pit suddenly stood up, leaped, and lunged at Zhao Sirong. Startled, she retreated three steps and swept her spear horizontally. With a *thud*, the corpse was shattered into pieces, but from within the remains, another shadow surged toward her. It was another specter, and its aura was far more oppressive—clearly stronger than the first, at the second stage of the Martial Marquis realm. Zhao Sirong’s face went pale; she realized with dread that it was indeed an ambush.

"Leave it to me," Lu Yan said, appearing at her side. He threw a punch, meeting the second-stage Martial Marquis specter head-on and sending it flying. He could kill a second-stage Martial Marquis with a single blow, but unsure if more specters were lurking in the shadows, he didn't want to reveal too much power and scare them away. Thus, he only unleashed the strength of a second-stage Martial Marquis.

The specter, having been repelled, lunged at Lu Yan again with erratic, flickering movements. Lu Yan simply threw punches, relying on his formidable bone energy to suppress it. After a dozen strikes, the specter was forced into a retreat, yet no new specters appeared.

"It seems there are only these two. Let's finish this." With that thought, Lu Yan stopped holding back. He unleashed a burst of powerful bone energy in a single punch. It was a crushing blow that shattered the specter’s arm and drove deep into its chest. The specter let out a piercing shriek, its body twisting and struggling, while simultaneously beginning to 'burn.' His bone energy acted like fire, and the specter’s body, like melting snow, evaporated rapidly. Within a few breaths, the specter’s body exploded and dissipated into nothingness. He then unleashed another punch, shattering the specter Zhao Sirong had been fighting.

"Specters are nothing special," Lu Yan thought to himself.

Zhao Sirong looked at Lu Yan with suspicion, realizing they had underestimated him. To easily kill a specter equivalent to a second-stage Martial Marquis, Lu Yan’s strength was at least at the peak of the third stage, perhaps even the fourth. While bone energy could inflict great damage, specters were special entities—condensations of a martial artist's spirit and filthy energy—making them hard to kill. Only by possessing bone energy far exceeding theirs could one destroy them quickly. If the strength was comparable, one could only wear them down slowly.

"Thank you for your help, Brother. I had no idea you were such a hidden master," Zhao Sirong said, cupping her hands in gratitude. Without Lu Yan, she would have been in grave danger; facing both a first and second-stage Martial Marquis specter, she would not have survived.

"Evil spirits and specters must be eradicated by all. No thanks are needed," Lu Yan replied with a nod.

"May I ask your name?" Zhao Sirong asked.

"Lu Ren," Lu Yan replied. Since he was using a disguise, he certainly couldn't use his real name.