Guo Ping now sat cross-legged at the center of a wide formation. The air had turned cold—unnaturally so. Around him, Senior Mo and Senior Wei stood with their hands formed into ritual mudras, eyes closed in focus as they chanted in low, resonant tones,
"By the seal of sacred vow, We summon what still lingers now. From grief and fire, from ash and bone, appear once more. Feed on fear, on sorrow's breath, Drawn to the scent that echoes death. Accept the sacrifice we lay, Possess the vessel marked this day.
Guo Ping fidgeted nervously, muttering under his breath, "Great… here's hoping they summon just one ghost—not every cursed spirit lurking in the woods tonight."
No sooner had he said that than the two cultivators snapped their eyes open in unison. A gust of wind surged through the clearing like a blade, scattering dry leaves and extinguishing the small warding flames.
Senior Mo and Senior Wei immediately dove behind the large rock nearby—only to find Astra and Seiya already crouching there.
"…Hi," Astra said awkwardly, waving a hand.
Senior Mo's glare was a mixture of disbelief and fury. She opened her mouth to shout, but before she could, Senior Wei's voice cut in sharply.
"Mo Lian! Look!" He pointed toward the center.
Back in the circle, Guo Ping had risen shakily to his feet, face pale. He tried to step out—but a shimmering barrier pulsed around the ritual space, locking him in. Panic flared in his eyes.
Then… it struck.
A sudden wave of oppressive force smashed into him like a wall. His body jerked backward, limbs convulsing as an invisible presence rushed into him with violent speed. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his eyes rolled back, and a shadowy mist coiled around him, seeping into his skin.
Mo Lian's eyes narrowed as Guo Ping's body convulsed within the ritual circle, shadowy mist coiling tighter around him. Her voice was sharp with urgency.
"Wei Zhenyu… the barrier's breaking."
She stepped forward, hand gripping the hilt of her curved blade, its edge already faintly glowing with spiritual energy.
Senior Wei gave a curt nod, his expression grave. He unfurled a spirit-binding cord, its threads glowing faintly blue like woven lightning. Without looking, he glanced toward the large rock—where Astra and Seiya were now obviously crouched.
"You two made a mistake following us," he said coldly, "Stay hidden. Do not come out—no matter what happens."
Seiya groaned quietly, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. He turned to Astra, who offered an innocent shrug while scratching the back of her neck.
"…Seriously?" he muttered. "I said we'd get in trouble. Now it's ghost trouble."
The air cracked with a thunderous snap.
The barrier around the ritual circle exploded outward in a pulse of ghostly light, scattering dead leaves and spiritual ash into the wind. A surge of spectral force surged through the clearing like a wave of ice.
Guo Ping stepped out of the fading circle, but his movements were no longer his own.
His back was too straight. His head cocked unnaturally. And his eyes—once comically wide with fear—now gleamed with a cold, malevolent hunger.
A voice rasped from his throat, deeper and layered, as if more than one presence spoke at once.
"Who dares summon me… with this trembling child as sacrifice?" He raised his arms, studying his new flesh. "Ugh. Fragile. Disappointing. This body is weak."
Mo Lian stepped forward, sword drawn and glowing faintly with spiritual heat, the symbol of Fire burning at her mask's edge. Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you the Pale Gorge Wraith?"
The figure gave a slow, twisted smile. "Indeed. I am the echo of betrayal. The breath of grief. The curse they left to fester." He tilted his head mockingly. "Were you the one foolish enough to summon me? Have you any idea what you've just brought upon yourselves?" He took a step forward, and the surrounding trees groaned under the weight of spiritual pressure.
"Aren't you afraid?"
Before Mo Lian could answer, Wei Zhenyu stepped beside her, unraveling a glowing length of spirit-binding cord, its runes pulsing with azure light. His voice was calm, but his stance was firm.
"No. The only mistake here… is yours." He held the cord taut. "You've fed long enough on fear. But tonight, the feast ends."
"Afraid?" The thing wearing Guo Ping's body gave a crooked grin. "Fear isn't something I flee from—it's what keeps me fed."
Behind the rock, Seiya crouched lower, his fists clenching and unclenching as his jaw tensed. Every muscle in his body itched with unease.
Astra peered around the edge, eyes sharp and focused. Seiya frowned, whispering under his breath, "That's strange… she used to be terrified of ghosts and demons. Now she's crawling into a fight just to watch one?"
Before he could dwell on it further, the tension snapped.
In the clearing, the possessed Guo Ping—no, the Pale Gorge Wraith now—tilted his head unnaturally, his grin curling like smoke.
Mo Lian took a step forward, blade raised. "Where are the fifteen you took? What have you done to them?"
Wei Zhenyu's voice followed, cold and sharp.b"How many lives have you consumed? How many souls have you fed on?"
The wraith gave a low, mirthless laugh. "Should I include the screams from the massacre too? They were the first course."
His eyes burned brighter, and in the blink of an eye, he lunged forward—A streak of darkness aimed straight for Wei Zhenyu.
Wei shifted effortlessly, sidestepping the strike with the grace of water.
Steel hissed.
Mo Lian struck, her blade cleaving the air in a blur, but the wraith twisted, dodging with eerie, boneless grace.
"Interesting," the wraith murmured as he circled them. "I can feel it… the fury in you,"—his glowing eyes locked onto Mo Lian. "Like wildfire, untamed and bitter. You burn hot, but too predictably."
Mo Lian's glare deepened. She slashed again, furious, but he was gone before steel met flesh.
He pivoted toward Wei Zhenyu, baring his teeth. "And you… you're still. Cold. Like the deep of a lake. No tremble. No ripple. Where's the thrill in that?"
He ducked another blow, now laughing.
Then his gaze flicked sideways toward the rock. "But there—two more." His voice lowered, voice oily. "One watching for chaos… hungry for spectacle. A reckless curiosity. And the other… anger. Unresolved. Hot. Raw. Like a fire sealed in ice."
He clicked his tongue. "But none of it stirs my appetite. No fear. What's the point of this if no one's afraid?"
Seiya's fists curled tighter, his breath sharpening. Astra didn't speak—eyes locked on the clearing, the flicker of conflict dancing in her pupils.
Seiya whispered, voice low and bitter,
"Astra… let's leave."
She frowned, whispering back,
"Wait—we should—"
But Seiya didn't let her finish. He grabbed her arm and started dragging her back the way they came.
They only made it a few steps.
In a flash of blurred shadow and wind, the wraith appeared in front of them, blocking their path. His hollow eyes glowed like dying embers, and the mist coiling around him seemed to darken.
He tilted his head—and sniffed.
Then, with a grin creeping across Guo Ping's possessed face, he murmured something unexpected.
""One of the twins," the wraith murmured. He leaned in closer, his ghostly eyes narrowing at Seiya, voice dripping with malice. "I've smelled your bloodline before…"
A beat of silence. The grin stretched unnaturally. "So familiar… it stinks of guilt and slaughter."
Astra tensed. Seiya froze, a flicker of something dangerous flashing in his eyes. The wraith chuckled darkly.
"Did Daddy not tell you what he did?"