Chen Qing didn't bring the pagoda down.
—If he dropped it, he'd get back a pagoda packed with sludge. Wouldn't that be revolting?
The ghost meter showed this too was a first-tier Wandering Soul, meaning next to no danger.
The fetid ditch was only about a meter deep; standing above it, he could reach in easily.
Chen Qing softened his steps, moved above the Latrine Ghost—
And hacked down!
The blood-pattern on the blade flared bright.
Splat!
The human head fell to the stroke.
The dog's body jolted stiff, but its feet and rump were still buried in the muck, so it stayed seated.
Then both head and body abruptly dissolved into black qi and swiftly merged into the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda.
Something dawned on Chen Qing. With a thought, both the Latrine Ghost and the Mad Ghost appeared before him.
The Latrine Ghost's body was whole again.
He pondered a moment.
Could it be that every ghost I kill gets absorbed into the pagoda?
Which would mean the Mad Ghost wasn't actually "stored" either—it was crushed to death by the pagoda, and only drawn in after it died?
Looking at the Mad Ghost, Chen Qing's brow furrowed slightly.
Because this was the first time he'd ever seen a Mad Ghost—even the name was one Chen Qing had made up on the spot.
So he had no idea of its advancement sequence, either.
The Latrine Ghost's evolution sequence, that Chen Qing did know: at Wandering Soul rank it's called Latrine Ghost / Shit-Eating Ghost; at Malevolent Ghost rank, the Filth-Eater. The Evil Spirit rank he wasn't sure of.
Legend said there were a hundred kinds of ghost.
Every kind had its own advancement path toward proving itself a Ghost King; once it advanced, both form and power leapt dramatically.
And advancing required a "spirit lure."
A spirit lure might be a blend of certain spirit-herbs, ghosts, or relics—or it might be a condition, like "kill a hundred people."
Chen Qing knew the complete advancement lures for the Child Ghost and the Drowned Ghost, all the way to Evil Spirit rank.
That is, the full knowledge of the Child Ghost's and the Drowned Ghost's evolution to Evil Spirit.
Child Ghost → Night-Crier → Chubby Doll.
Drowned Ghost → Water Monkey → River-Child.
For these two, given the right conditions, Chen Qing could raise them all the way to Evil Spirit rank.
He also knew an incomplete path for the Grievance Ghost's evolution to Evil Spirit:
Grievance Ghost → Sleepless One → Crimson Robe.
But he only knew the names, not the lures.
The Grievance Ghost was an exceptionally formidable species—especially the Evil Spirit-rank Crimson Robe, an eerie existence that made people blanch at the mere mention.
If he ever learned its advancement lure, Chen Qing would certainly find a chance to get one.
As for the Mad Ghost...
Chen Qing had never heard of it.
Even the name was one he'd coined on the spot, though paired with its absurd appearance, it fit well enough.
So what would its Malevolent Ghost and Evil Spirit ranks be called?
Mad Dog? The Heartless One?
Musing as he walked, the necklace suddenly trembled faintly again.
Chen Qing gripped the saber and looked all around, but found nothing.
He searched another circle. Still nothing.
Something struck him, and he looked up into a tree.
There, at the very top, "sat" a figure.
Its lower half was a shape of smoke; its upper half a withered woman, so thin her ribs showed one by one, her breasts shriveled like two half-filled waterskins.
Right now its two nostrils were flared wider than its mouth, gulping air in great mouthfuls.
A Breath-Eater!
He checked the ghost meter—first-tier Wandering Soul.
The tree was seven or eight meters tall; Chen Qing didn't want to risk climbing it.
So he hurled the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda up...
"Grow!"
Hmmm—
The pagoda swelled, shoving out a ring of air, taller than the tree, and slammed down.
Crack-crack-crack-crack—
A rapid string of splintering, branches flying everywhere.
The pagoda crashed to the ground, dirt spraying, punching out a deep crater; but for the pile of broken branches beneath it, it looked as if it had grown there all along.
Sensing it, the Breath-Eater appeared inside the pagoda too.
And Chen Qing, looking at the pagoda, felt an urge to see how tall it could get.
"Grow!!"
The pagoda swelled another ring, a good twenty-odd meters tall now, blasting the earth outward as if a muffled thunderclap had gone off underground.
Six stories tall...
Chen Qing looked up, shaken.
"Grow!!"
Another ring larger!
Chen Qing couldn't estimate it—maybe ten stories.
"Grow!!"
Larger by another great ring!
By now the pagoda towered far above even the Ghostless Pagoda that had once housed it.
And the door on it was a good two meters high.
Only enlarged to this degree could Chen Qing see clearly: the iron pagoda was rich in detail—doors, windows, pillars, all with crisp carved patterns.
An impulse struck him, and he pushed the pagoda door open.
Utterly smooth, without a sound, the door swung wide.
Inside were coiling gray mists. Chen Qing didn't step in.
Not from fear of danger, but from fear of the 15,000-to-1 time differential.
At so terrifying a rate, even if he stepped in and out at once, months might have passed outside.
This wasn't far from the city; he feared drawing some powerful existence that might carry the pagoda off.
Following the ghost meter onward, the necklace soon trembled again.
Gripping the Kunwu Saber, he approached slowly.
By a small river, the grass swayed gently.
He looked at the ghost meter—no reaction yet.
This thing's detection range and speed were both far weaker than the pagoda's.
Nearing bit by bit, he finally saw the ghost.
In the dark it nearly merged with the water's surface—roughly humanoid, but with four oversized palms, webbing between the fingers, scales down its back. It seemed to be developing toward an otter, a water lizard.
A Drowned Ghost!
Chen Qing had the Drowned Ghost's full evolution sequence!
Only, he frowned—this Drowned Ghost's form was very complete. Its rank was probably not low.
The ghost meter trembled.
Sure enough, the number jumped fast, then settled:
32.
Third-tier Wandering Soul.
The standard readings ran across six grades, E to A, with a very complicated formula.
But conversion was a hassle, so it had gradually become first-tier through tenth-tier; the ghost meter dropped the letters too, using tiers instead.
For a Wandering Soul, 1K-10K was the Nascent stage—extremely fragile.
11K-20K was first-tier, each additional 10K raising it one tier:
21K-30K, second-tier.
31K-40K, third-tier.
41K-50K, fourth-tier.
Put simply, the tens place is the tier.
Capped at tenth-tier.
Beyond tenth-tier, the three grades S/SS/SSS were called "Transcendent grade"—by various names over the years, but not measurable by ordinary standards.
Also called stat monsters.
At that level, they all had the strength to fight above their rank.
An S-grade Wandering Soul far outstripped a low-rank Malevolent Ghost.
The records used four words: extremely dangerous.
This Drowned Ghost was highly suitable for Chen Qing, especially since he knew its full sequence.
But precisely because its rank was high, he couldn't choose it.
A Ghost King's attributes correlated with its twelve ghosts.
The weaker, the better!
So Chen Qing softened his steps and withdrew, bit by bit.
Not long after, Chen Qing met his fifth ghost.
A Latrine Ghost. First-tier.
Only, this one was soaking in a pit latrine, gorging itself joyfully, filth head to toe. Chen Qing wrestled with himself again and again but couldn't bring himself to strike.
He slipped away.
Before dawn, Chen Qing met his sixth ghost:
A Breath-Eater, first-tier Wandering Soul.
He took it.
A fine haul this trip: one Mad Ghost, one Latrine Ghost, two Breath-Eaters.
Soon, the sky slowly brightened.
The ghosts vanished, every one.
Before the Blood Moon arrived, the ghosts you could run into were the commonest kinds.
Low rank, low strength.
Once the Blood Moon came, all manner of eerie, over-strength things would fill the world.
Even the thought made his hair stand on end.
As he was thinking it, He Qiang called:
"Chen Qing, training's starting."
"Got it!"
Compared to the other recruits, Chen Qing had a little more freedom.
But only on the condition that he completed his training quota.
Today was the first day of concentrated training; he naturally had to be there.