This Taoist priest is so unprofessional!

"Such a heavy aura of malevolence!"

Zhang Chen was slightly startled.

This thing, capable of defiling the cinnabar array patterns with its own malevolent energy, must have cultivated for at least several hundred years, far surpassing ordinary wandering ghosts.

Seeing that the red-clad ghost terracotta warrior was about to break through the outer defense line, Zhang Chen no longer hesitated.

He suddenly bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of his most potent blood essence onto the inkwell in his hand!

"puff!"

The originally jet-black ink lines were instantly dyed into an eerie dark gold color.

Zhang Chen held the ink line with one hand and the ink fountain with the other, his body spinning rapidly like a top!

"A net of heaven and earth, binding ghosts and subduing demons!"

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!

The dark golden ink line in Zhang Chen's hand seemed to transform into a nimble golden snake, weaving a large net in the air and descending upon the red-clothed ghost terracotta warrior!

The red-clad ghost puppet seemed to sense the danger and darted away, trying to dodge.

But the ink net seemed to have eyes; no matter how it tried to hide, it always remained above its head.

"Sizzle!"

The ink line netting was finally placed over it.

Large plumes of black smoke instantly rose from the red-clad ghost puppet, which let out a shrill scream and struggled frantically, trying to tear apart the large net.

But the ink line was incredibly tough; no matter how much it struggled, it remained unmoved and instead tightened even more.

"Now's the time!"

A glint of light flashed in Zhang Chen's eyes.

Instead of taking the opportunity to completely destroy it, he suddenly moved and swept past the red-clothed ghost puppet, heading straight for the corner of the wall!

His target was the peach wood sword nailed to the wall!

To completely defeat this more troublesome female ghost in red, he must retrieve his weapon!

"roar!!!"

The red-clad ghost terracotta warrior panicked when it saw Zhang Chen trying to take back his weapon.

Ignoring the excruciating pain of the ink lines burning its soul, it suddenly unleashed its full power of malevolent energy.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

It actually managed to break several ink lines!

It transformed into a blood-red afterimage, arriving before Zhang Chen and blocking the wall!

It stretched out its tiny, pale, bony hands and grabbed the hilt of the peach wood sword!

"Sizzle!"

The residual lightning power on the peach wood sword instantly scorched its hands black, but it refused to let go and even tried to pull the sword off the wall and destroy it!

"court death!"

Upon seeing this, Zhang Chen flew into a rage.

How dare you snatch a magic weapon right in front of the Taoist priest?

Do you really think I'm made of clay?!

His forward momentum didn't stop; instead, he accelerated again.

When he was still three steps away from the red-clad ghost puppet, he suddenly leaped high into the air, and his right leg, like a battle axe, came crashing down with a whistling sound!

"Get out of my way, Daoist!"

boom!

The kick landed squarely on the chest of the red-clad ghost terracotta warrior.

Although it has no physical form, Zhang Chen's kick contained pure Taoist energy, so even a spirit could kick it solidly.

The red-clad ghost terracotta figure screamed as it was kicked backward, crashing heavily onto the desk and shattering the valuable pear wood desk into pieces.

Zhang Chen landed with the momentum, grabbed the hilt of the sword, and pulled it out forcefully.

Clang!

The peach wood sword was back in his hand.

That familiar feeling of blood ties put his mind at ease.

He turned around, the tip of his sword pointing diagonally at the ground, coldly watching the red-clad ghost terracotta warrior slowly rise from the wood chips.

"That was just a warm-up."

Zhang Chen's lips curled up once again into that signature, slightly roguish, confident smile.

"Now, let's have some fun."

He gently stroked the sword with his left hand, and the runes that had dimmed began to glow again, little by little.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

"This move is called 'Severing the Mortal World'."

Zhang Chen's voice was soft, yet it was like a reassuring pill, striking into the panicked hearts of the group.

Wang Xiaoer also subconsciously widened his eyes, wanting to see clearly what kind of earth-shattering move Zhang Chen was referring to as "Slaying the Mortal World".

However, the expected scene of dazzling lightning did not occur.

Zhang Chen moved.

Instead of rushing forward, he took a step back.

He casually twirled the peach wood sword in his hand, the tip of the sword changing from pointing diagonally at the ground to being held horizontally at chest level.

His entire demeanor underwent a dramatic transformation at that moment.

If he was like a wrathful Vajra who subdued demons and monsters when he summoned the heavenly lightning, then he is more like a reclusive sage who has seen through the ways of the world.

Those dark eyes were devoid of killing intent and rage, leaving only a calm, still gaze.

Opposite him, the resentment of the red-clad ghost figurine had reached its peak.

Frost covered the walls of the entire study, and the air was as cold as an ice cellar.

It let out a shriek, transformed into a streak of blood, and hurtled straight at Zhang Chen's face!

Zhang Chen neither dodged nor avoided.

Just as the blood was about to reach his body, he gently extended the sword in his hand forward.

There was no sound of wind.

There was no sword sound.

This sword strike was simple and unadorned, even somewhat slow, like an old man casually thrusting his sword while doing his morning exercise in the park.

But this seemingly powerless sword strike landed precisely on the center of the blood-red light's brow.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

Wang Xiaoer's pupils suddenly contracted.

He saw that the tip of the peach wood sword did not pierce any solid object.

It just touched there so gently.

Where the sword tip touched the blood-red light, no light erupted. Instead, it was like a drop of water falling into a calm lake, rippling out in circles of transparent waves.

The ripples spread out, sweeping across the entire body of the red-clad ghost figurine.

"laugh……"

A soft laugh came from beneath the red veil of the ghost figurine.

This time, it was no longer resentment, no longer madness.

There was a hint of relief and a sense of liberation in that laughter.

The blood-red wedding dress she wore began to fade at a visible rate, from bright red to pink, and then to grayish-white.

Its overwhelming malevolent aura dissipated rapidly, like a punctured balloon.

Finally, to the horrified eyes of Wang Xiaoer and the two bosses, the arrogant red-clad ghost puppet shattered inch by inch in mid-air.

It did not explode like the yang terracotta warrior, but turned into gray dust that filled the sky, like ashes from burnt paper, slowly drifting down and eventually returning to nothingness.

With a single sword strike, it severed its last ties with this world.

With a single sword strike, it dispelled its resentment accumulated over hundreds of years.

This is what it means to sever ties with the mortal world.

As the ghost figurine dissipated, the chilling atmosphere in the room vanished without a trace.

The crystal chandelier overhead flickered wildly a few times, then snapped back to its bright state with a "snap".

The warm light once again filled the entire study, dispelling all the gloom.

everything is over.

Outside the window, the cool moonlight shone through the glass.

Zhang Chen sheathed his sword and stood in the moonlight, his shadow stretched long, his Taoist robe fluttering even without wind.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, picked up the terracotta fragments of the yang figurine from the ground one by one, and put them back into the bronze box for nurturing evil spirits, along with the pile of ashes.

Throughout the process, his movements were unhurried and slow, carrying a peculiar sense of rhythm.

He took out a yellow talisman paper covered with complex runes from his pocket, muttered some incantations, and then stuck it to the opening of the box.

The "Suppressing Talisman" seemed to come alive; with a flash of golden light, it merged with the bronze box.

Even after doing all that, Zhang Chen was still not at ease.

He then took out a small vermilion pen and, using his fingertip blood as a guide, drew intricate sealing runes on all six sides of the box.

He didn't consider the box completely clean until it was completely covered with dark red runes and no longer exuded any yin energy.

Only after he had done all this did he turn around.

Mr. Zhao and Mr. Qian had already gotten up from the ground.

The two men were still pale with shock, but the way they looked at Zhang Chen was no longer that of a young man, but rather as if they were looking at a god walking among mortals.

In those eyes was pure awe and worship.

Wang Xiaoer, standing to the side, finally snapped out of his daze after that mysterious sword strike.

He looked at Zhang Chen with a complicated expression.

Shock, admiration, and a touch of... unfamiliarity.

Is this Taoist master who can destroy enemy ships with a laugh really the same Chen Ge who shouts and fights in the shop and argues with someone for half a day over a sports car soldier?

Is this his true self?