He was dead.

For eight years, he had been left behind and waited; yet the man had hoped that the world will answer for what had been done to him and the other travelers who came through this long, desolated path. What had they done to deserve such a cursed end?

He had a beloved, who was a beautiful woman. With him, she had eloped when her noble family did not approve of their love and tried to marry her to a minister. But out of all the men in the land, it was him whom the noble lady chose. Out of all the women, the poor man’s heart chose her.

In the end, not only did he fail as a husband, but the man also failed as a father. He was unable to return home. He would never see again his beloved and their three innocent children, all of whom brought greater joy and warmth to his life.

Quickly, the ashen-faced specter slithered from one boulder to the other.

The stupendous cave was once bright. It had been filled with laughter when he and the others came through, with their numerous horses, wooden wagons, and carriages. But after that ill-fated day…it became vacant and dark. For a long time, the stench of rotting flesh and blood lingered in the air until skin melted to bones, then bones to fragments or scattered, crushed parts.

Over the years, resentment had compiled, creating a dense atmosphere of yin miasma. It had attracted many demons.

Walking corpses would come by occasionally but they are generally a bit slow in the mind and lack all the other senses. They do not care for absorbing yin for power if they could still move their stiff limbs to keep moving forward. Such simple creatures.

Tonight, it would be the same as every other passing one where not a human came to claim their loved ones who were led astray from the main road, only to be butchered altogether.

From the corner of his eye, the spirit heard a rock fall into a puddle of water by his right. What is that?

With caution, the man listened for the slow water droplets from the vast ceiling of stalagmites. He sniffed the musty air. There was a shift in the area’s energy. A sense of cool dread overcame him.

Suddenly, from above, there was a faint jingling of bells and rustling of cloth. At the next moment, the man caught a glimpse of an ice-cold blade.

Within a flicker of a second, the spirit blitzed back, barely evading the silver sweep of metal. His breaths shuddered.

“Who are you?!” hissed the ghost.

There, in front of him, was a young woman, dressed in an all-white outer robe that seemed to float in the air like a drifting celestial. For now, all he could see was the person’s back. With a spin of her small foot, the maiden whirled around, revealing her bright honey-and-autumn infused eyes. They were soft like sparkling pools of water at a mountain summit.

It was a shame that the bottom half of the person’s fair face was concealed by a long ghostly veil. Around her neck was a gleaming silver hoop that was shaped like a crescent moon. On her wrist was a single bracelet, engraved with various dragons, flowers, and fireflies. There was even a silver chain with bells wrapped around the young woman’s small waist, imbued with magic.

The cultivator also did not wear any sect emblem; yet she was refined in the way she held herself and possessed an imposing air despite her small appearance. Quite strangely, there was even a small floral mark on her peerless forehead, vivid in the perfect shape of a crimson flower.

Before the spirit could recover from shock, the person disappeared in a blur.

Something was wrong.

Quickly, the man turned to sprint. He needed to warn the others!

However, on the other side, the white-robed maiden had awaited him. A small moon-pale hand slapped a glowing talisman against the ghost’s forehead. Almost immediately, his legs gave in, trembling. The specter stumbled back and fell onto his bottom. The cave floor was cold, but he could not tell what was colder—him or the ground.

The immobilized ghost’s expression turned black and twisted in anger. As if to mock him, the person’s silver jewelries gleamed faintly in the dark.

It was then that the specter tried to move, only to find out that his limbs were stiff. His legs would not allow him to stand or sprint. Gradually, the man realized who he was facing.

The person was a hunter.

To the restless deceased, this is far more frightening than cultivators.

Hunters are a subclass of cultivators, who specialize in solely pursuing ghosts, demons, or restless corpses that refuses to lay to rest. Finding them, sending them off, or exorcising the dead is a hunter’s expertise.

Instead of focusing on just cultivating alone and secluding themselves, hunters spend much of their lives, traveling across the land to wherever the client or assigned missions call them to. Some may argue that this is a far more efficient and active method of cultivating, because it allows the person to travel and accumulate world experiences to broaden the mind, to further develop their martial arts skills and magic, and deepen their pool of knowledge.

“Guang Li!” Voices began to call out from the dark abyss behind the white-robed huntress. “Guang Li! There are high-ranked hunters in the cave!”

Hearing this, the veiled maiden met Guang Li’s gaze.

The spirit’s eyes widened. “Everyone…!”

Behind the mysterious cultivator—were dozens and dozens of ghosts! Those idiots!

“There’s one here!” Upon noticing the young woman, many had snarled and darted their way toward her in white blurs. “Let’s get her before the others arrive!”

Some, however, raced over toward their friend, jumping from boulder to boulder. “Are you alright?!”

Paying no mind to the incoming cloud of specters, the huntress calmly lowered her eyes. If it is not for their leader coming out of his hiding spot, it would have been more work for her to lure out so many ghosts. This way was more efficient for her.

These spirits were the man’s traveling friends and acquaintances, who were ruthlessly slaughtered alongside with him. They went with him when a group of ‘locals’ kindly insisted that there was a shortcut to Huamei City. For eight years, their souls waited for families or friends to come claim them and send them off to the Netherworld.

But no one ever came.

Quickly, the veiled maiden sheathed her sword into its white scabbard. Subsequently, irradiant silver flashed into her right hand.

The chains and bells that once cinched around the huntress’ small waist became a shining, lengthy whip in her grip. In an instant, powerful gold spiritual aura encircled the magical, extensive weapon.

Catching sight of the enigmatic chain-whip, the horde of ghosts stopped short of the veiled huntress. There were about thirty-two of them surrounding the single cultivator, who was dressed in billowing white. While there were far more specters than the mortal, a sense of unease came over them. It caused every one of the spirits to hesitate. They did not dare to take another step toward her.

“You all are almost advancing onto the Wild rank.” Such a soft, sweet voice shook the resentful spirits. It was also warm and clear like spring water. “If all of you do not stop, everyone cannot turn back from being demons!”

In the world of cultivation, there are five official ranks assigned to ghosts, corpses, and demons: Mischief, Hazard, Wild, Ferocious, and Slayer. The ghosts are at rank two, Hazard, meaning that they are capable in manifesting themselves to humans and possess the ability to touch others. Of course, it includes injuring and murdering people as well as establishing a small killing ground.

Slowly, the young woman’s long, dark hair flowed back, with not a single strand out of place. For such a beautiful woman to be acting alone…Guang Li could only deduce that she possessed a high cultivation rank and confidence.

Silver jewelry… White robe... The ghost creased his brows together. No…

“Child of Red Omen, Song Mei Ying…?” While the man, like the others, was unable to leave the area due to supernatural law means, he had overheard the murmurs from a demon who came by. “…The savior…”

No, that cannot be. The twenty-year-old huntress would be the enemy of the demon king since she walks the Heaven realm’s path of Immortality—not the Netherworld’s.

What is the person doing here of all places?

Song cultivators are known to always travel in groups. Either that or the stories say they reside in the floating magical Cheng Xiu Village, protected by a Heaven Immortal. The man began to question the accuracy of that information from a passing demon. Something must have happened…

Not just that, the specter had thought that all Song cultivators wore blue. When did they start wearing white, the color of mourning? It was not right.

“RETREAT!” yelled the man, feeling the ice-cold chill creep down his spine. “EVERYONE, FLEE AT ONCE!”

Unexpectedly, the remaining spirits started to kneel. Their legs were clearly weakened by the hovering scripts that were being emitted from the veiled maiden’s lengthy whip. What is this?! Moreover, they were perplexed by what could be a finger-fragment of her overall aura.

Cursing himself, the paralyzed Guang Li felt choked by how fierce and formidable the huntress’ spiritual energy was for such a faint appearance. He had to squint his eyes. Mei Ying’s entire frame was surrounded by such a warm light that was bright enough to overtake half of the expansive vicinity.

“RUN!” the ghost cried out. “WHAT ARE YOU ALL STANDING THERE FOR?!”

“G-Guang Li, we…!” A few specters tried to resist the maiden’s intimidating magic, but their vapor-like forms could not resist. They did not know why. “W-We can’t!”

“You and your group have been dragging countless travelers down here and murdering for yin energy toward demon status.” Tightening her hand against the glowing whip, Mei Ying stepped toward the immobilized man. Her voice was firm. “You are the leader.” She paused before speaking more gently. “How should this one address you by?”

Even her eyes are gentle… Lowering his gaze, the spirit answered, “Guang Li.”

It was the first time in eight years since a living mortal human has asked for the man’s name. He could not help but feel a bit remorseful.

“Guang Li, you must stop this…and let go.” said the huntress. “I have heard the rumors surrounding everyone’s unjustified deaths, but…” Hearing this, the ghost raised his eyes to the young woman’s. “...you are hurting other families too. If you choose to keep doing this, you are no different than those bandits who lured you and the others here.”