Liu Dashao’s mind was filled with curiosity. “Such a vast quantity of Yin energy must have required the resentment of thousands of souls to accumulate. Could it truly be that there are this many corpses here? But how is that possible?”

The thought caused Liu Dashao’s head to swim, his consciousness gradually slipping away.

He immediately sensed that something was terribly wrong. Spinning around, he glanced back to see Su Yougui and Hu Beikang with their eyes shut, mouths agape, as great torrents of Yin energy rushed wildly into them.

“Not good!” Liu Dashao roared, yanking a large cluster of garlic from Fan Debiao’s neck and jamming it forcefully into Hu Beikang and Su Yougui’s mouths before slamming their jaws shut.

Gag.

Moments later, both men began to heave and vomit.

Fan Debiao, utterly clueless about what had just occurred, could only stare dumbfounded at the two retching men, speechless for a long time.

“What in the world is wrong with you two? Hey, Master Liu, what happened to them? Why did you just stuff garlic in their mouths?”

“They were momentarily possessed,” Liu Dashao explained. “Luckily, your garlic snapped them out of it.”

“Heh, I told you my garlic wards off evil! These two were mocking me behind my back. See? See? If it hadn't been for my garlic saving their lives, those two would have surely kicked the bucket by now.” Thinking of this, Fan Debiao couldn't help but burst into a fit of loud laughter.

Liu Dashao said nothing. The evidence was plain to see; if he dismissed it as sheer luck, Fan Debiao would never believe him. It was better not to pursue a thankless task.

They hadn’t walked much further before the mist ahead grew increasingly dense. However, this low-grade fog only served to unsettle the breathing, making one’s core restless. What truly caused discomfort was the deep sense of melancholy it induced.

Liu Dashao had already prepared protective charms for everyone. With these talismans, each person could calmly maintain inner serenity, thus avoiding being swept away to the edge of existence.

It was unclear how long they had walked, navigating the stumbles and setbacks from the outside world, consuming vast quantities of garlic just to reach this point safely.

Beyond this point, the great cavern was no minor skirmish compared to what they had faced before. The previous encounters with centipedes, bats, and the dead infant incident were proof enough of the mysteries hidden within the depths. Carrying something as attracting to malevolent forces as garlic now would be even more perilous. Therefore, right at the cave entrance, Liu Dashao sternly commanded Fan Debiao, “Throw away your garlic.”

Fan Debiao naturally refused to discard the cloves. His reasoning was simple: his garlic had already saved the lives of two of them.

Liu Dashao was forced to explain, “Garlic only works against ghosts without offensive power, merely helping you maintain clear consciousness. When facing true specters capable of harming a person, it’s completely useless. Worse, it will cause your Yang energy to drain into the garlic, strengthening your Yin nature, which benefits the ghosts.”

Fan Debiao was not about to believe every word Liu Dashao uttered. Seeing was believing; this was his life-saving tool, and he wasn't about to casually discard it, relying on it for his continued survival.

Despite Liu Dashao’s persistent persuasion, Fan Debiao refused to let go of the bundle. Utterly frustrated, Liu Dashao finally allowed him to keep it, figuring that once the young man experienced the true detriment of the garlic, he would discard it himself.

Indeed, as they passed the spot where they had previously escaped the centipede, there was a loud thud, and Fan Debiao collapsed onto the ground. Looking at his back, a centipede as thick as a thigh was clinging there. This creature wasn't biting flesh; instead, it was savagely attacking the garlic hanging around Fan Debiao’s neck. Witnessing the centipede’s mouth—which resembled a human's—gnawing ferociously, Liu Dashao panicked. He quickly jammed his Peachwood Sword forward, and the centipede clamped down on it instead.

Since the centipede was neither a ghost nor a Jiangshi, but merely a mutated, ancient spirit, the Peachwood Sword held no spiritual power over it. With a sharp crack, Liu Dashao’s sword shattered completely.

Crack, crack, crack—the sound echoed rapidly as the sword turned to dust, entirely consumed by the giant centipede. After finishing the sword, it turned its attention to Fan Debiao.

Liu Dashao grew anxious. If Fan Debiao were eaten by the giant centipede, he was certain to face another severe reprimand. The mere thought of being reprimanded made Liu Dashao tremble involuntarily.

Truly, a single encounter with a snake leaves one fearing a well rope for ten years.

Ignoring his own danger, Liu Dashao thrust both hands forward, aiming precisely for the centipede’s Tian Yin acupoint. This centipede, apparently having cultivated some formidable essence, was covered in a hard carapace. When his fingers struck, a wave of numbness shot up, yet the centipede continued to lunge for Fan Debiao’s neck.

“Damn it, I’ll fight you!” Without any weapon immediately available, Liu Dashao opened his mouth and clamped down on the centipede’s head with a snap.

Of course, such a massive head could not be entirely engulfed by Liu Dashao’s mouth; he managed only to bite down between the antennae and the eyes. By sheer, blind luck, he had hit the creature’s weakest spot. With another crack, a foul, thick fluid flooded his throat. That nauseating, deadly substance coursed down his esophagus and into his stomach.

This completely overwhelmed Liu Dashao. He immediately stumbled away, retching violently, wishing he could expel his very intestines.

Fortunately, the centipede had lost all ability to attack. It weakly flipped over, lay still on the ground, and made no further movement. Fan Debiao, his face chalk-white, got up from the ground. He stared at Liu Dashao for a long time, unable to muster any expression. He had just brushed past the gates of hell.

He looked at Liu Dashao and said, “Master Liu, thank you.” With that, Fan Debiao tossed everything he was carrying aside. Finally, he stomped twice onto the mangled head of the centipede, feeling some measure of release. However, with that stomp, pus and blood oozed from the torn opening on the creature’s head. The thought of having just bitten that thing and swallowed that foul discharge made Liu Dashao gag again, sending him into another fit of vomiting.

After an indeterminate amount of time, just as Fan Debiao was beginning to feel somewhat less agitated, he felt a general sense of unease settling over him.

Su Yougui and Hu Beikang, meanwhile, seemed unaffected, clutching their heavy iron shovels with a degree of misplaced contentment, feeling no apprehension.

Crack, crack, crack, crack—the sound of splitting wood echoed. The group instantly became alert, looking up to see that the vast cavern was filled with these white objects, reducing visibility to less than ten meters, making it impossible to discern what lay ahead.

Su Yougui whispered, “Hey, brother, are you okay? We’ve come to see you?”

Hu Beikang nudged Su Yougui. “Who are you talking to? Do you know whose sound that was?”

Hu Beikang continued, “Have you forgotten? That was the Daoist priest we met last time! I wonder if that Daoist is happy to see us visiting.”

Liu Dashao scanned the surroundings and confirmed that this location was indeed where they had encountered the Daoist previously. He immediately became solemn. This was one of his predecessors; they could not be impolite. He quieted the others, reminding them that they had met dead infants here the last time. The sounds they heard were likely coming from those same entities.

“Be quiet, all of you! Those might be the voices of the dead infants. If you encounter them, keep your mouths shut and stop breathing, understood?”

Liu Dashao gave them a stern warning.

But this time was strange; they did not run into the dead infants, only the Daoist priest.

Gazing at the peculiar priest, Liu Dashao suddenly noticed a small detail: the last time they saw him, the priest was seated meditating with his left hand supporting his right. This time, however, it was his right hand supporting his left—the posture was inverted. As he puzzled over this change, the priest’s eyes suddenly snapped open. Liu Dashao flinched, rapidly falling backward several steps.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Three streaks of red light shot out consecutively. If Liu Dashao hadn’t dodged swiftly, he would have been struck by the triple beams. The rocks behind him were instantly struck three times, exploding into smoke that began to spread.

Watching the billowing smoke, Liu Dashao felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't fathom which despicable wretch would not even spare a senior’s corpse, planting some complex Qian Kun technique upon it.

At this moment, Hu Beikang, Fan Debiao, and the others were completely petrified, staring blankly at the scene, unsure what to say. The Daoist was clearly dead, yet now… blast it, he could still attack them.

Just as Su Yougui raised his shovel to strike the Daoist’s head, Liu Dashao stopped him. “Hold! Hold! Don’t swing! Someone has gotten here before us. We need to investigate closely, every second counts. I feel something strange about this place; many people must have died here, or perhaps this is the tomb of some prince or noble.”