The Ghost Market
Before dawn, Allen once again silently returned to the monastery in Wuhai Town. The following morning, he set off across the vast wilderness with Ophelia, heading toward the secretive Ghost Market to gather information.
"Allen, ride with me on my Pegasus. After meeting up with a few teammates, we'll head straight to the Ghost Market. They can be somewhat arrogant, so don't take it personally." Not far from Wuhai Town, Ophelia quickly summoned a towering Pegasus from her Demon Hunter Card and invited Allen to ride with her.
"I'm afraid it's not just arrogance," Allen chuckled, mounting the horse. Though Ophelia had not directly said it, her implication was clear.
As long as he refrained from tapping into his Soul Crystals or Magic Crystals, to the outside world, he only appeared as a high-level magic apprentice. Though his cultivation speed had been extraordinary, rapidly advancing from a first-tier magic apprentice to the eighth tier, and effortlessly defeating Urbato, that level of power was hardly impressive before the formidable Demon Hunters.
"No one is born a powerful warrior or wizard, Allen. I believe that one day, you will become the strongest mage in our divine court, perhaps even an exalted Archmage!" Ophelia glanced back and smiled, cracking her whip with determination. The Pegasus beneath her accelerated, leaving a trail of dust.
The sixth-tier Pegasus was not particularly powerful in terms of impact or combat ability, but its speed far surpassed that of ordinary creatures. After galloping for over half an hour, they arrived at a majestic mountain, where three formidable Demon Hunters were already waiting at the summit. Clad in heavy armor, their steeds sturdy and swift, their faces cold, and their postures straight, they resembled three spears of ice. The aura of death was palpable, and the area was devoid of any living creatures.
"Ophelia, is this the priest you spoke of, the one with the greatest potential in the wilderness?" The leader of the knights cast a cold glance at Allen, his face shadowed with disdain and arrogance.
The Angel Squad was known as the most powerful combat force in the divine court, with each member, even those on the periphery, possessing great strength, at least at the level of a Great Swordmaster or Grand Mage. Priests held a high status in the divine court, but within the Angel Squad, it meant little. Bringing along a frail magic apprentice was absurd.
"Karl, for the Angel Squad, what matters most below the Holy Domain is not strength, but potential for cultivation! Tell me, who could challenge an experienced Swordmaster when they were just a swordsman or magic apprentice?" Ophelia's face hardened, as if inheriting the protective nature of Elder Akashi. She paused, then pointed at Allen, saying, "And he did it, without any doubt! When we return to the Peak of Light, I'll personally explain to Lord Asas!"
To help Allen return to the divine court and rapidly increase his strength, Ophelia did not hesitate to offend some powerful teammates, personally bringing him into the wilderness for training.
Challenging beyond one's rank?
Hearing Ophelia's words, the three strong knights glanced at Allen, and after a brief silence, they said nothing further and charged forward on their steeds. It was not uncommon for low-tier magic apprentices to challenge higher-tier ones in settlement areas or castles, but challenging a mage or swordsman beyond one's rank was rare, and often only done by prodigious geniuses.
The wilderness was teeming with wandering monsters, including high-level creatures with terrifying combat abilities. Even formidable Demon Hunters like Ophelia dared not act recklessly. They avoided the powerful beasts, using the forest as cover to move swiftly. After more than an hour, they arrived at a vast canyon.
Unlike the dark and eerie Cursed Valley, the canyon was devoid of wandering undead and eternal black mist. Yet, it stretched endlessly before them, with towering walls on either side, as though cleaved by a giant axe. Standing at the bottom, they could only see a sliver of the sky above.
"Put on your cloaks, and don't reveal your identities."
Karl, the leader, retrieved several cloaks from his Demon Hunter Card, covering himself completely, leaving only his eyes visible. He stowed his battle steed and, casting a cold glance at the new arrival, led the way into the ominous canyon. They passed through a stone forest and entered a deep, seemingly endless cave, following ancient stone steps downward.
The cold wind grew sharper as they descended, and the air grew colder, as though entering an ancient ice cavern. Every few meters, a torch flickered on either side of the stone steps, dimly lighting the path. Echoes of ethereal sounds reverberated from the depths, adding to the chilling atmosphere.
The Ghost Market!
Allen, cloaked in shadow, followed Karl deeper into the concealed market. On the surface, it appeared no different, but beneath, he grasped his cold black magic pen with caution.
The Sunset Wilderness seemed endless, with people relying on settlements or castles for survival. Demon Hunters roaming the wilderness could either restock at these locations or choose a more dangerous option—the Ghost Market. Here, there were no laws, no rules. If someone was killed, no one cared; if someone was murdered, no one would claim the body. Everything was left to its own course. People entered and exited hurriedly, cloaked to conceal their identity.
A screech…
After turning a dark corner, a crude stone chamber appeared before them. An old man, ragged and with long, graying hair dragging on the ground, sat cross-legged. His hands clutched a dilapidated huqin, producing shrill, unpleasant sounds. Before him were several jars, emitting a foul odor—perhaps herbs or the blood of a magical beast. What was more disturbing were his hands, each with six fingers, continuously strumming the instrument. When he noticed the group's arrival, he raised his head and smiled eerily, his eyes cold and penetrating, giving off an unsettling, inexplicable vibe.
"This is a mutated wandering hunter. Don't stare at him—keep moving!" Ophelia quickly grabbed Allen's arm and urged him forward. Behind them, a rasping, eerie laugh echoed through the air.
The wilderness was full of strange occurrences. Some Demon Hunters, eager to quickly increase their strength, forcibly fused with the demon cores of magical beasts. The result? They often became twisted beings, neither fully human nor fully monster, reviled by others. Rejected by the settlements and castles, they wandered the wilderness, finding refuge in places like the Ghost Market.
Though these individuals might appear weak, they often hid remarkable talents or powerful treasures, and their true strength was often unfathomable. Ophelia and the others, seasoned in the wilderness, knew well how difficult and dangerous these individuals could be.
"By forcefully devouring an enemy's blood energy and soul, could I one day turn into something like that?" Allen mused silently, following Ophelia and the others forward.
At present, the Great Devouring Technique was his most reliable method for rapid cultivation. With every powerful foe slain, his strength grew. Based on Ovicius's memories, it was an ancient magic Allen had learned after slaying a Soul Devouring Beast deep in the Cursed Valley. He had only been practicing for a short time, but he wondered what the long-term effects might be. No one could say for sure.
The deeper they went into the Ghost Market, the more it felt less like a cave and more like a vast underground palace, its complex and winding corridors growing darker with each step. Fewer and fewer Demon Hunters passed by.
Under Karl's guidance, they wound through the maze-like corridors and arrived at a dimly lit stone chamber, where they encountered an elderly man sitting cross-legged, his eyes closed. He wore a black robe and appeared frail, though his appearance belied his true power. Behind him stood a slave, missing both arms and covered in long, green hair, wearing a black-and-white mask.
The old man gave off no magical aura, looking like an ordinary elderly person. But his very presence made the group cautious. Those who lived long in the Ghost Market were no ordinary individuals.
"Lord Guiyin," Karl began, respectfully handing over a crystal card. To Allen's surprise, the card contained a staggering twenty thousand contribution points—an amount far beyond what ordinary families could dream of.
The generosity of Karl's gesture left Allen with a newfound respect for the mysterious Guiyin. His every move seemed to command reverence. It was clear that this was no mere old man.
"Thank you, Lord!" Karl spoke in gratitude, his voice trembling slightly.
As soon as he placed the card down, a wisp of green hair appeared from the shadows, glimmering with light. Suddenly, several copper cups, engraved with runes, materialized before them. The slave remained still as a statue, yet his very presence was suffused with an immense, silent threat.
The appearance of the slave was enough to make Allen apprehensive. The atmosphere turned heavy, and the tension in the air intensified.
And then, the old man, Guiyin, with his hollow, sightless eyes, spoke. "The strictest agreements cannot guarantee eternal peace. What is meant to come, will come." His voice was calm, but it carried an unnerving weight.
"Is this what you seek?" he asked Ophelia, his tone steady, foretelling a grim future.
Karl and the other knights, along with Ophelia, gasped in shock, their faces drained of color.
The legendary Guiyin, retreating in exchange for compensation, was no trivial matter. On the contrary, it foretold a grim fate for the group, one that the old seer was unwilling to divulge. Even a master astrologer had deduced this, and Karl and the others, overcome by a chilling sense of foreboding, felt their limbs grow cold. They could not fathom what kind of calamity lay ahead. The sudden emergency summons from the Divine Court's headquarters, the Peak of Light, to investigate the Sunset Wilderness, had already filled them with a sense of dread. After hearing Guiyin's ominous prophecy, their unease only deepened.
In stark contrast to the knights' palpable anxiety, Ophelia was consumed by confusion and a creeping panic. She could not comprehend what kind of suffering might cause her to abandon her unwavering faith. To blaspheme against the Divine Court and betray her sacred beliefs was unimaginable and far too terrifying to even entertain.
"Ah, young man, where is your blood?" Guiyin, with a calm expression, suddenly opened his sightless eyes after reaching into the copper cup in front of Allen. His voice broke the silence with a quiet, surprised exclamation. His eyes were devoid of pupils, only a murky white—he was a blind man, unable to see anything.
"My destiny is not for others to predict or dictate. I alone hold the reins of my fate," Allen replied flatly, his face composed.
From the moment he had ascended to the title of Lich King, he had sworn to ascend to the pinnacle of the Divine Domain and master his own destiny. To freely offer a drop of his blood to another, in his eyes, was not only meaningless but profoundly foolish. If fate could be so easily predicted or altered, it would no longer be fate. Encountering a talentless, money-hungry astrologer was one thing; but meeting an evil entity— the consequences would be dire. In Ovicius's memories, he had learned of several ancient magics designed to strike at enemies using their blood, killing from miles away.
"My destiny is mine to command?"
Guiyin, clad in black robes, trembled as a vast, endless river of fate appeared before his sightless eyes. A storm of unimaginable power stirred deep within his soul. The green-haired servant behind him, sensing his master's agitation, suddenly lifted his head. With a swift movement, three thousand strands of green hair unfurled, permeating the boundless void.
"Not good!"
Feeling the rising magical pressure and potency from the green-haired servant, Allen's face darkened. He swiftly positioned himself in front of Ophelia, brandishing his black magic pen. With a subtle motion, he traced a large (Magic) character, secretly accumulating a massive surge of power, ready to strike a lethal blow at a moment's notice.