The Wrath of the Vengeful Spirit

As soon as the words were spoken, ghostly wails echoed from afar, drawing closer with each passing moment. A thick, oppressive fog of spectral mist enshrouded the entire area, blotting out the sky and stars. The outside world felt distant, as if it no longer existed, and the only reality left was this pitch-black realm of the unknown.

In such conditions, the cultivators' vision was severely impaired. Even those in the Spirit Condensation stage could only see objects within a distance of ten zhang, let alone the weaker Qi Refinement cultivators. 

"Everyone, remain calm! These are but a rabble of lowly ghost creatures. As long as our wills remain steadfast, they pose no true danger to us!" 

Chu Qiuran's voice rang out sternly. With a swift motion, he patted his storage pouch, summoning a bronze mirror into his hand. As he poured his magical power into it, the mirror hummed and shot forth a dazzling pillar of azure light. The light pierced through the layers of ghostly mist, tearing a large hole and diminishing its ominous power.

"Ahhh!"

From within the fog, faint, shrill screams echoed, and wisps of green smoke rose into the air. It seemed that Chu Qiuran's artifact had vanquished a few of the lurking spirits.

The ghostly beings grew more hesitant, no longer daring to approach as boldly. They flickered in and out of sight, becoming elusive and hard to track.

Several cultivators activated their "Spirit Vision" technique, scanning the mist for signs of the specters. Though their enhanced vision allowed them to discern vague shapes within the fog, it was still difficult to pinpoint the enemies.

"Second Young Master, we can't continue like this. We must find a way to eliminate these ghosts," said a silver-armored youth. Yang Fan recognized him—it was none other than Chu Yiyun, the one who had visited his medical clinic before.

Chu Qiuran, however, remained composed. "Ghosts are countless in the Ghost Corpse Mountain. We could fight for three days and nights without end. The true threat to us isn't the common ghosts, but the 'Fierce Ghosts' lurking within the mist. Only by slaying them can we break their control. The lesser spirits fear our cultivator auras and will scatter on their own."

"Second Young Master is correct," chimed in Lin, the Apothecary. His dry, raspy voice carried a note of curiosity as his eyes gleamed with interest. "You seem quite familiar with the situation in Ghost Corpse Mountain."

Chu Qiuran's expression remained steady. "The family would not have sent us here for a trial without knowing what we were up against. Our mission is to locate the ancient tomb that's been buried here for over a thousand years. Ghost Corpse Mountain was once a vast cemetery, where many cultivators—some even of the ghost and demonic paths—met their end. But in the past few centuries, it has quieted down, and the more powerful spirits have disappeared."

"We will press on. The minor ghosts can be ignored for now, but if a Fierce Ghost appears, we must strike swiftly and destroy it." 

Chu Qiuran continued to give orders, and soon after, he transmitted further instructions via spiritual voice, outlining a plan. This plan, of course, was meant only for those cultivators at the later stages of Qi Refinement and above. Yang Fan, being an apothecary, was naturally not included in the strategy, though he quietly listened and memorized every detail.

The group resumed their journey. Chu Qiuran's bronze mirror seemed to hold a restraining power over the spirits, as the ghostly mist melted away like snow before it. Their range of visibility gradually expanded.

"Ke-ke-ke..." 

A spine-chilling, eerie laughter echoed from the depths of the fog. It was clear that a Fierce Ghost was lurking, manipulating a swarm of lesser spirits to harry the group from all directions.

Time passed, and the cultivators slowly grew immune to the influence of the common ghosts. The haunting wails and cries that once threatened their sanity no longer affected their resolute minds. Chu Qiuran consulted a map, his eyes flickering with spiritual light as he scanned the terrain around them. A moment later, a hint of delight crossed his face.

But at that very moment, a fierce wind surged around them, and a horde of grotesque spirits, baring their teeth and claws, descended upon the group with renewed ferocity. Layers of ghostly mist engulfed the area, plunging the surroundings into an even deeper darkness.

"Ke-ke-ke..."

Yang Fan felt a sudden, chilling gust at his back, a sense of imminent danger prickling his senses.

"Die... DIE!"

With a swift motion, Hu Fei unleashed two bolts of palm lightning, crackling with purple energy, tearing through the night sky and striking at the incoming threat.

Zzzz— 

The lightning surged outward, enveloping a large swathe of ghosts. 

"Ahhh!" 

Shrieks of agony echoed as the mist parted, revealing a gaping hole where the lightning had struck.

But just then, a man wielding a black scythe, his eyes glowing with crimson malice, lunged from the shadows. A roaring gust of gray, spectral wind swept toward them.

"A Fierce Ghost has appeared!"

Lin, the Apothecary, and the others gasped in alarm, hastily summoning protective barriers and calming their minds to defend against the sudden assault. Many Qi Refinement cultivators, caught unawares by the ghost's sneak attack, paled as the ghostly wind brushed against them, leaving them drained of vitality and spirit.

"Perish!"

Chu Qiuran's voice rang with cold fury as he directed a beam of azure light from his bronze mirror straight at the Fierce Ghost.

"Ke-ke-ke... Foolish human cultivator!" 

The ghost's crimson eyes gleamed as dark, swirling energy coiled around him. With a swing of his black scythe, a blade of condensed, malevolent wind slashed through the air, meeting the azure beam head-on.

Boom!

A heavy crash reverberated, the force of the collision dispersing the energy from Chu Qiuran's attack.

In an instant, the ghost melded back into the surrounding mist, vanishing as if it had never been there. Yet its presence lingered like the shadow of death, a constant threat hovering over them all.

"Damn it! It got away again!" 

Hu Fei spat angrily, his face contorted in frustration.

The Fierce Ghost's tactics were cunning—it had struck just as Hu Fei unleashed his lightning, capitalizing on the momentary gap in his defenses. And then, just as quickly, it disappeared without a trace.

"Ke-ke-ke..." 

The ghost's eerie laughter echoed through the fog, sending shivers down the spines of the injured cultivators. Among them, four or five were severely wounded, their faces ashen, trembling as cold sweat poured down their brows. Their spirits, too, were fractured by the mental assault.

"Apothecaries, hurry and tend to the wounded!" 

Chu Qiuran commanded gravely. The ghost's cunning had taken a heavy toll on the disciples of Rain Mist Manor.

Lin and Zheng, the apothecaries, hurried forward to administer treatment. Yang Fan, too, approached one of the fallen cultivators, kneeling beside him and placing his hand on the man's forehead. 

Chu Yuyan stood guard beside him, her eyes scanning the mist with heightened vigilance, clearly intent on protecting him.

Seeing this, Chu Qiuran's expression shifted slightly, while Chu Yiyun's eyes gleamed with a flash of jealousy and malice before quickly being masked.

"Apothecary Lin, can the damage caused by this Fierce Ghost be healed?" 

Chu Qiuran asked.

"The Fierce Ghost's attack is no ordinary injury. It contains not only a powerful yin energy but also a mental assault. I'll administer a healing pill and perform some recovery spells, but full recovery will take at least two or three days of rest." 

Lin responded matter-of-factly, his hands busy channeling pale blue energy into the wounded cultivator's body.

Meanwhile, Yang Fan exhaled softly and withdrew his hand from the forehead of the Qi Refinement cultivator he had been tending to. He rose to his feet.

"Why aren't you treating him?" 

Chu Yuyan asked in confusion.

Chu Yiyun, observing from the side, smirked inwardly and added with feigned politeness, "Apothecary Yang is still young. It's understandable that he might struggle to treat wounds inflicted by a Fierce Ghost. Don't push him too hard, miss."

Chu Qiuran and Lin glanced over but remained silent, their expressions unreadable.

Zheng, however, looked puzzled—could it be that Yang Fan really couldn't help?

But what happened next surprised everyone.

Yang Fan, his expression calm, walked to the next wounded cultivator and repeated the process, placing his hand on the man's forehead just as before.

Something isn't right...

Chu Qiuran's eyes flicked back to the first man Yang Fan had tended to.

Suddenly, a deep breath escaped the injured man as he wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Color had returned to his face, and he slowly stood.

"How do you feel?" 

Chu Yuyan asked, her face lighting up with excitement.

The Qi Refinement cultivator, still dazed, replied, "I... I was struck by the Fierce Ghost's attack. My body felt weak, and my mind was in chaos..." 

"And now... how do you feel now?" 

Hu Fei asked curiously, his small eyes darting back and forth