He simply walked into the main hall calmly and sat cross-legged beside the long-extinguished bonfire ashes.
The smell of blood had not yet dissipated in the Post Station, mixing with the scorched fragrance of burnt wood, creating a nauseating, strange odor.
But Gu Xuan’s eyes remained still; his spirit had long sunk into the profound depths of his Spirit Sea.
Within the Spirit Sea, strands of black energy, thinner than a strand of hair, were being forcibly restrained, crushed, and analyzed by him.
This was the remnant soul stripped from the leading Mayfly.
Fragments of memory, like a bursting flood, violently and chaotically assaulted his mind.
Scenes of bizarre and grotesque sights flashed by rapidly.
It was a massive Altar shrouded in eternal black mist, constructed from some unknown pile of bones, its surface carved with twisted, blood-colored patterns.
Above the Altar, tens of thousands of humanoid silhouettes were suspended by invisible threads; they resembled dried jerky, swaying slightly in the black wind, yet unable to utter a single sound.
The scene shifted to three giant Mayflies, far larger than normal, spinning frantically around a dark red crystal core suspended in the center of the Altar.
They opened their mouths, covered in suckers, greedily devouring the energy seeping from the crystal core; with every fraction they consumed, their dorsal shells gained a deeper, somber luster.
Suddenly, all the chaotic images froze on a stone wall inscribed with ancient pictographs. The writing seemed alive; every stroke writhed, exuding an ominous aura.
Although Gu Xuan did not recognize this script, through the instinctual cognition of the remnant soul, its meaning was branded directly into his mind like a Seal—
“The Nine Altars of Bei Jing feed souls to open the gate.”
Gu Xuan suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing and vanishing in his pupils.
He finally understood!
These bizarre Mayflies were not native products of this realm at all; they were more like “spores” deliberately scattered from a ritual node called an “Altar”!
Their goal was not merely to devour flesh and blood to grow stronger, but a deeper purpose: to establish new Anchor Points on this land and reconstruct a “gate” leading to an unknown place!
And he, by inadvertently destroying the nest at this Post Station, seemed to have only resolved one crisis, but in reality, he had severed a link in this chain of expansion.
He had prevented the maturation and spread of the “spores.”
Thinking of this, Gu Xuan felt not relief, but a heavier pressure.
If one nest was this perilous, what terrifying entities must the so-called “Nine Altars of Bei Jing” be?
He slowly opened his palm; two Refined Mayfly Remnant Cores lay quietly in his palm.
They were about the size of a fingernail, pitch black like charcoal, cold to the touch. Upon careful sensing, one could detect an extremely stable, pure frequency of Yin Energy contained within.
This thing was purer than any strange object he had encountered before.
A thought leaped out from the inherited memory left by the Black Water Pool: “High-purity source of strangeness, refined with Heart’s Blood, can be molded into a Boundary-Outside Device to temporarily pry open the laws of this realm.”
Boundary-Outside Device?
Gu Xuan’s gaze sharpened.
He hesitated no longer, bringing his fingertips together like a sword, and lightly tapped his chest.
A bead of Heart’s Blood, red as a gemstone, seeped out, hovering at his fingertip, emitting a scorching, masculine aura.
He dripped this bead of Heart’s Blood onto one of the Remnant Cores.
“Sizzle—”
As if hot oil met water, black smoke immediately rose from the surface of the Remnant Core, accompanied by a piercing shriek.
Gu Xuan remained impassive, using his finger as a brush and his blood as ink, rapidly sketching on the muddy ground before him, mixing the powder of the melting Remnant Core with his own vital blood.
His movements were extremely fast; the strokes appeared simple and crude, yet they subtly followed a profound rhythm.
When the final stroke was laid down, the Talisman Base mark, interwoven with black and red, suddenly emitted a faint glimmer, then silently seeped into the earth beneath his feet like water into sand, vanishing.
An invisible force field spread outward with him at the center.
Gu Xuan clearly felt that within a radius of ten feet, the free-floating, unsettling, strange activity in the air was forcibly pinned down by a giant, invisible hand, instantly falling silent.
“So that’s it, this isn’t an exorcism Talisman, it’s an ‘Anchor Point’…” Gu Xuan murmured softly.
This Talisman could not attack, but it could forcibly create a temporary “safe zone” in this bizarre place.
Just as he set up the Anchor Point, the night completely descended.
Shortly after midnight, a sudden change occurred!
Outside the Post Station, the black mist from the wilderness seemed to receive a command, surging in from all directions.
The mist was thick as ink, emitting a sound like crashing ocean waves as it rolled, violently striking the dilapidated courtyard walls of the Post Station, kicking up clouds of dust.
Within the mist, countless blurry shadows darted about erratically; the shrill cries of infants, the despairing sighs of the elderly, and the painful roars of men mixed together, as if hell itself had been moved to the mortal world.
This was the region-specific calamity unique to this area—the “Night-Erosion.”
Whenever the moon was completely swallowed by the Celestial Dog, the free-floating strange energy between heaven and earth would condense into form, transforming into a hunting tide that consumed the essence of everything living in its path.
Travelers usually staying overnight here had long hidden in the Underground Cellar or Secret Chamber, burning specially made calming incense, sealing their five senses, and praying through the night, hoping not to be discovered.
However, Gu Xuan slowly stood up and walked step by step toward the already wide-open main door.
He showed no intention of hiding.
He reached the doorway, took out three Talismans he had just newly made by mixing ordinary materials with a bit of Mayfly powder, and skillfully buried one of them in the dirt beneath the threshold.
The moment the Talisman entered the soil, the surging black mist outside the door recoiled violently by three feet as if hitting an invisible wall.
Immediately after, he sprang up like a civet cat, silently leaping onto the roof, and pressed the second Talisman onto the very center of the roof ridge.
Then, he floated lightly to the backyard and tossed the last Talisman into the rim of the long-dry ancient well.
Three Talismans, three positions, formed a simple defensive formation.
With the placement of each Talisman, it was like dropping a drop of cold water into a boiling oil pot; the surrounding black mist churned violently but dared not cross the boundary.
But there was no look of satisfaction on Gu Xuan’s face.
He knew this level of defense could only repel the lowest-grade wandering spirits; it could never withstand the true main force of the “Night-Erosion.”
He returned to the center of the main hall. He cut open his left palm, and bright red blood immediately gushed out.
This time, he was not stingy; he let the blood drip, using his palm as an inkstone and his finger as a brush, rapidly sketching on a thin membrane, shaped like human skin, that he had peeled from the corpse of the Mayfly host.
The pattern was a hundred times more complex than the previous “Anchor Point”; countless fine circuits crisscrossed, subtly mimicking the trajectory of the Demon Suppression Hall absorbing and refining strange energy within his Spirit Sea.
This was a bold reverse engineering effort!
What he intended to create was a “Pseudo-Hall Talisman Base” capable of actively “predating”!
As the intricate circuits neared completion, he heavily pressed the last and purest Mayfly Remnant Core onto the center of the Talisman Base, serving as the core and the “stomach” of the entire Talisman.
Buzz—!
The moment the final stroke was completed, the entire human-skin Talisman spontaneously floated up from the ground, emitting a faint yet extremely tenacious suction force, causing the surrounding air to slightly warp toward it.
Gu Xuan looked at his masterpiece, a cold curve forming on his lips, and whispered, “Instead of hiding… I will make it eat the ghosts in return.”
Deep in the night, the shrieks grew even more piercing.
In the black mist, two “Mist Corpses,” condensed from pure resentment, rushed out first.
They were bloated in form and slow in movement, but the malevolent aura emanating from them was enough to drive an ordinary person instantly insane.
They staggered toward the Post Station door, but three feet from the threshold, they were repelled by the invisible force field with a “bang,” sent tumbling onto their backs.
One of the Mist Corpses roared in frustration and tried to climb the wall, but the moment its body touched the area above the roof, it happened to brush against the force field of the Talisman on the roof ridge.
“Ah—!”
A scream not of human origin echoed through the night sky.
Half of that Mist Corpse’s body was forcibly ripped away, transforming into the most primal black mist, instantly absorbed and annihilated by the Talisman.
Its size abruptly halved, it shrieked in terror and retreated back into the mist.
The remaining Mist Corpses seemed to gain intelligence; they bypassed the front and turned toward the backyard, attempting to break through from the location of the ancient well.
However, what awaited them was that human-skin Talisman, suspended above the well opening, emitting an ominous suction!
The instant the three Mist Corpses rushed into the backyard area, that human-skin Talisman suddenly exploded!
It made no sound, instead transforming into a fist-sized, pitch-black, deep miniature vortex.
A terrifying suction force erupted suddenly; the three Mist Corpses were forcibly pulled, twisted, and torn apart without even a chance to struggle, turning into three streams of dense black smoke, all swallowed by the vortex!
This miniature black hole lasted for less than a breath before it violently self-immolated amidst a surge of energy fluctuation, turning to ash.
But the shock it caused silenced the wailing ghosts outside the entire Post Station!
Gu Xuan stood silently atop the roof ridge, coldly watching the black mist recede like a tide.
He reached out and caught a piece of scorched, residual skin drifting down from the air—it was the only remnant of the human-skin Talisman after it burned.
The moment his fingertip touched the residual skin, a line of blurry characters, formed from condensed Yin Energy, materialized out of thin air:
“The Northern Altar General awakens; quickly destroy its eye.”
Gu Xuan’s brow furrowed. Just as he was about to put away this piece of residual skin, a bone-chilling coldness struck him from behind without warning, like an ice pick pressed against his spine.
His muscles instantly tensed, but he did not immediately turn around.
He slowly turned, only to see that in the shadow of the eaves not far behind him, a person was standing quietly, as if they had appeared at some point.
The person wore a faded Taoist robe, held a mottled Peach Wood Sword, and the brim of his straw hat was pulled down very low, obscuring most of his face.
It was the Traveling Taoist who had been following him all this way.
The other’s gaze pierced through the shadow, sharp as a hawk’s, landing on the residual skin he had just put away. He spoke in a hoarse voice, “Young friend’s methods are truly extraordinary, capable of warding off gods and ghosts. May I ask… what is your lineage?”
Gu Xuan showed no surprise on his face, as if he had long anticipated his appearance.
He subtly concealed all traces, cupped his hands casually toward the Taoist, and replied in a tone as flat as if discussing the weather, “Just some old remedies picked up in the mountains and fields, good for dispelling evil, setting things right, and curing a common cold.”
Before the words finished, both men felt a jolt in their hearts and simultaneously looked up toward the distant horizon.
Where the night sky had previously been obscured by thick dark clouds, a massive, unparalleled vortex now appeared.
The black clouds were rapidly shrinking and condensing toward the center at a visible rate, like a cyclopean beast lurking behind the vault of heaven… slowly opening its eyelids from an eternal slumber.