Chapter One Hundred Fifteen: Skewering Delights

“Ugh.”

The man surnamed Sun shone his flashlight briefly, and instantly, a wave of nausea and sourness surged up from his stomach to his throat.

The woman beside him also paled slightly; though not as dramatically as Sun, she was far from well.

Even Yang Wenhao furrowed his brows, feeling somewhat uneasy.

Judging by their clothing, these people seemed to be modern. If so, they shouldn’t have died so simply.

“Rustle, rustle.”

“What’s that?”

The rustling sound came again, as if something was crawling among the corpses. From a distance, it appeared as a single black dot, impossible to discern clearly.

At that moment, Sun suddenly staggered and fell into the ditch.

Fortunately, Yang Wenhao’s quick reflexes allowed him to grab Sun before he plunged in.

But when Yang pulled him back, he found Sun had already lost consciousness, seemingly drugged.

Suddenly, with a splash, a graceful figure landed — it was the woman surnamed Tian.

This sudden turn of events shocked Yang Wenhao; he had no idea what was really going on.

“Right, that Liu guy!”

Just as Yang was recovering, a gleam of cold light suddenly flashed from the darkness.

By pure instinct, Yang Wenhao dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding the strike.

“Not bad,” came a voice filled with surprise from the shadows.

“Are you the one who killed those corpses below?”

Without a word, Yang Wenhao drew a long sword, eyes fixed intently on the dark silhouette ahead.

“So what if I am? Soon, you’ll all be food for ‘it’!”

“It?”

Before Yang could ask, the man surnamed Liu launched another cold strike aimed at Yang’s vital points.

But Yang Wenhao, a Foundation Establishment stage cultivator comparable to a martial arts grandmaster, was no ordinary opponent. Liu, despite his strength, was merely a first-rate warrior.

The sneak attack was Liu’s best chance, and now that it failed, victory was out of reach.

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A martial arts grandmaster dispatching a first-rate warrior was a matter of moments.

Liu spat a mouthful of fresh blood, which splattered against the hard stone wall. He stared at Yang in disbelief. “You’re not one of the Black Iron.”

A faint smile played on Yang’s lips. “I am Black Iron, but I just joined. I recall they compared my strength to a martial arts grandmaster — exactly a grandmaster.”

“Martial arts grandmaster...” Liu’s lips trembled. At this moment, he was truly devastated.

This mission typically attracted only postnatal warriors. Liu had killed several before by ambush and was confident.

But he never expected a Black Iron member to possess the strength of a martial arts grandmaster.

“It will emerge, and it will avenge me.”

“Clatter.” Yang’s expression hardened as his sword pierced Liu’s heart.

At the same time, below, the deep ditch began to stir.

“Rustle, rustle.”

The noise grew louder, as if something was gathering.

Yang looked down and saw a mass of black objects advancing toward him.

It wasn’t a single creature but countless tiny black dots forming a shape.

“System, what is this thing?”

Yang’s heart trembled at the sight.

“Spend one hundred points to scan?”

“Yes!”

After reading the scan’s description, Yang’s head was filled with frustration.

What was this? Clearly the human realm, so how could something from the underworld appear here?

He had previously encountered a remnant soul from the underworld and had slain it.

Now, he faced these underworld ghost insects. His luck was truly extraordinary.

But these ghost insects were extremely dangerous; mishandling them could doom the whole Liang Prefecture.

Yet Yang’s abilities were limited. There were too many of them. Even a Golden Core stage cultivator would struggle or die here.

“System! Help me find a way to deal with these things!”

Sweat beaded on Yang’s forehead. The black mass was close, about to climb up.

Two others were nearby; if he didn’t act fast, it wouldn’t just be the three of them, but the entire city that would suffer.

It wasn’t that he felt saintly, but such matters should be resolved by cultivators. If he was the only one here, then who else would do it?

“Ding. Host may spend five thousand points to purchase a True Flame. Only true fire can burn such filthy creatures. Please choose.”

“What? Five thousand points for one True Flame? Then what about the Triple Flame?”

“The Triple Flame evolves from the True Flame. Host may spend ten thousand points to evolve directly into the Triple Flame, or purchase it separately for fifteen thousand points.”

“Damn, just buy the True Flame.” Yang sighed. Fifteen thousand was way beyond his reach.

He currently had only eight thousand points—nowhere near enough.

But to burn these things alive, one True Flame would suffice.

Having bought the True Flame, Yang’s confidence surged.

With a grand sweep of his hand, the pitch-dark cave was instantly illuminated.

Under such blazing light, Yang finally saw the true form of the ghost insects.

Frankly, they were disgusting — eyes like the River of the Dead, mouths full of steel teeth capable of tearing through flesh and bone, and a pair of wings on their backs. Yang wondered if they could even fly.

“No matter! True Flame, burn!”

This was a costly purchase. If it didn’t work, he might lose his mind.

“Ding. Congratulations, host has slain ghost insects and gained ten points.”

Ten points sounded small, but there were thousands, if not tens of thousands, of these insects.

Only now did a smile appear on Yang’s lips — he saw hope.

While roasting the ghost insects, he watched his points steadily rise by tens.

In no time, he reached eight thousand, earning back the True Flame’s cost.

No matter how many ghost insects he incinerated, they charged him as if fearless of death. This only pleased Yang more—come as many as you like, I’ll burn them all.

But just then—

(End of chapter)