My right eye had swollen up too much to see, throwing off my aim. So I took my knife, the same one I used to dress spirit beasts to make a cut and drain the blood. There wasn’t a pause or even a thought of self-preservation. Such higher thought never crossed my mind. We were on haunted house number 10, and we had well over 40 to go before the whole city was considered searched.

The sun rose as black blood gushed from my swollen eye. “This wasn’t in the stories growing up. They seem to skip this part and go straight to confronting the evil.” Cain said.

I managed to open both eyes enough to give him a look. “Talk about sawing gangrenous limbs off might have given you nightmares.” I popped open the cylinder of my revolver and replaced my spent rounds.

“Should we return now and report. I think the other houses are the same.” Cain said.

I lifted a 35% gold coin from a dresser and pocketed it. Cain gave me a look but said nothing. If he, had I might have been forced to subdue him. His position wasn’t worth a damn while I followed high inquisitor Logan’s orders. This was my mission, and I decided when we packed it in.

Not that Cain wasn’t right. Every haunted house was the same. On the outside, bands of livestock turned spirit beasts attacked us, and, on the inside, we found skeletons and odd books.

“I’m surprised you haven’t ordered every haunted house burned in the Prophet’s name. Isn’t that standard procedure for the inquisition?” Cain asked.

Sometimes I didn’t know if I should trust Cain or not. On the one hand, he’s the heir apparent of a county; on the other, he had no men. If we somehow dug our way out of this hole and saved the town, the nearest baron would invade, seize the lands, and declare themselves count. Instead, the royals have apparently been quiet about the multitude of pleas for aid.

Still I had learned a lot from the county heir.

Cain painted an interesting picture of the days leading up to this. And really, it was a miracle any guards or nobles hadn’t been snatched up. All the men in town were under mass hypnosis from the books. I didn’t really know how the books made people sit down and drain their qi until they were nothing but skin and bone. Yanking them from the hands of the few living victims did jack, and we didn’t know where all the qi was going.

I wanted to say it was impossible that no one in these haunted houses failed to escape or warn someone, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, haunted houses collected isolationist sects who went years without stepping outside their residents. So, the group that did this might have taken the sects out one by one until none remained.

The subversion of the guards, the failure of the barons to gather their hosts and help, and the lack of royal assistance painted an amazing picture of betrayal and sacrifice. Someone high up wanted the count out of the way. Even if we manage to bring this city back from the brink, it won’t last.

So that made me wonder whether it was worth making friends with Cain. As scummy as the thought made me feel, the longer I observed this town, the surer I was that loose ends would be cut no matter how this event ended.

“The damage is done cauterizing the wound of a dead man is pointless,” I said. We were here for Ula; saving this town never mattered to Logan or Emily. “Besides, why should I burn my own harvest. These lands are rich in spirit vegetables, rare cultivation herbs, and, best of all, lots of spirit beasts. My larders have never been so full.” I said.

“I’m glad the death of my countryman has profited you so much,” Cain said.

“Me too, and to think I thought this would be a difficult assignment,” I said and tossed a beast core in my mouth. The tiny organ dissolved as I cycled it through my body and spirit vessel. Unfortunately, my cycling method wasn’t made for the coalescence realm, so I lost most of the qi. “On a serious note, do you have an escape plan at the end of this?” I asked.

If the noble escaped with his brother and sister, they might come into play later. They could join a sect and potentially rise through the ranks. He might also have family elsewhere; perhaps his mother was the daughter, sister, or niece of a baron or count. Cain might be granted lands by a powerful grandfather or uncle.

My noble-born lacky turned his head to a pile of corpses we had stacked after collecting their beast cores. There was still qi within their bodies; I planned to inventory them and process them into dog food or fertilizer later. My farm idea hadn’t gone away. I needed a place to grow, build, and experiment away from prying eyes. A farm seemed healthier than a dark cave somewhere.

“What will you do after this?” Cain asked.

“Answering a question with another question definitely shows you have a plan,” I said.

I rolled my eyes at my own sarcasm. Truthfully it was becoming a problem. Growing more powerful ruined my manners and my ability to care about them. It could also be the triad hanging from Cain’s neck on a thin string of silver and gold. He might as well have hung a turd around his neck.

He didn’t speak for a second, so I went on. “If an example helps, I want to buy my own land and farm after this,” I said.

“With all of your power, you want to become a common farmer,” Cain said.

“What should I try to take over a sect and devote myself to advancing two more stages? I’m sure sects control multiple farms, but I want to try my hand at making my own haunted territory.” I said.

Cain went quiet for a moment before the air grew thick with moisture. “So, you’d torture and kill just to bind a land’s qi to your purpose,” Cain said.

This guy didn’t pay attention. He lived here but couldn’t see the forest for the trees.

Emotions were needed to bind an area, and the heavier the emotion, the better. But the higher an entity’s cultivation, the more their emotions mattered. Mine had far more weight than Cain’s, and Cain’s had far more weight than a normal mortal. So going by that logic, Logan’s emotions had a hell of a lot of weight.

Maybe if I was going at it blind, I’d have to resort to some barbaric shit like blood sacrifice. But those aren’t the emotions I want. The amount of spiritual energy in a location also mattered. If these people weren’t here, I probably would have stripped these haunted locations to the bedrock with my inventory. The pieces might lose cohesion from the intense emotions and become positively neutral with a bit of separation. With a blank canvas, I could create my own haunted land and even fence it in.

That wasn’t something I was going to explain to an unknown. If I was sure Cain would be liquidated, I might have gone into a long explanation about my plans and theories. After all, dead men tell no tales except in spirit form. Instead, I shook my head, never voicing my secrets or plans.

“I might end up moving into one instead. Well, what about battlefields? I’m sure those make excellent haunted houses.” I said.

The noble looked a little troubled. “We call those ghost zones. The spirit kings within don’t favor the living.” Cain said.

I smiled at the noble and patted his arm. “You don’t say. Well, if I ever want to capture a spirit king, I know where to find one now.” I said.

Cain looked troubled. “I plan to rebuild my county, and if you want land, I could award you some. You’ve earned it more than the peerage has.” Cain said.

For a second, I was stunned. Then I realized Cain was being serious. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This poor guy didn’t get it; his rank wasn’t going to survive this. The writing was on the wall, in some cases literally.

I brushed my hand against a drawing of a massive blue serpent graffitied on a wall. Ula’s qi radiated from it in unmistakable waves. She didn’t even have to sign her name. The serpent stretched out from the cathedral, one of the places Emily was supposed to search. I wasn’t worried.

Emily was the responsible one. She would have searched some of the minor parishes, found more books and dried up corpses, and reported it by now. By the time we go back, Logan would already be geared up to raid the cathedral.

“What about that brother of yours, Abel? I’m sure he’d want to become a baron.” I said.

Cain sneered at his brother’s name. “My brother’s interests lie elsewhere they always have. His friend high priest Raphael has already sent in his application to go train in the higher mysteries of the Prophet’s speakers. If not for this nonsense, he would have left months ago.”

Alright, I wasn’t an idiot; I could connect two points as well as any man. Abel must have either orchestrated this whole mess, or he was a pawn of the priest. Either way, the people he knew may have damned him. It all depended on whether this mess was opportunistic or planned.

“Tell me about your sister I heard she was cute.” I have never seen his sister, and by Cains glare, I never would.