Volume One: The Journey of the Useless—The Fiery Demon-Slaying Slash Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Eight Trigrams of Heaven—Not Even Bones Remain

Yang Chengzi gazed at Chen San in astonishment. A golden radiance emanated from Chen San’s body—soul force. What technique had he used? His speed and strength were tremendous. With a moment to catch his breath, Yang Chengzi forced himself to stand. The instant he rose, his eyes were drawn to the enormous Bagua formation etched on the ground.

A pale golden Bagua array sprawled over dozens of paces—its size was astonishing. What had just occurred? Why was such a vast array here?

At this moment, Chen San stood with the composure of a Daoist ancestor, calm and unruffled, soul force enveloping his entire being. In Yang Chengzi’s perception, Chen San’s soul had become so formidable and domineering that it seemed to look down upon all creation—a result, no doubt, of the technique he had just performed.

The Daoist ancestor glanced at the two motionless figures in black robes and nodded. “Child, fate has brought you and me together. Watch closely: Maoshan’s secret art, the Celestial Bagua Phenomenon Array. Channel all your soul force using the Heavenly Gang hand seals, activating the eight directions of the Bagua Qimen.”

Just then, the ghostly entity erupted with malevolent energy and charged toward the Daoist ancestor. Crimson runes on its black-purple body began to rapidly absorb the surrounding evil and ghostly energy. Visible streams of black ghost qi surged into its body as if finding their true host.

In an instant, the once-frail ghost became immensely powerful, surrounded by a haze of black and red miasma. Its claws, now more fearsome than the spirit tiger’s, slashed toward the Daoist ancestor.

Unperturbed, the ancestor waited until the ghost was nearly upon him before reciting, “Xun is wind, the sparrow seizes the Celestial Pivot.”

Driven by mighty soul force, the incantation seemed to freeze time itself. Chen San instantly flickered behind the ghost. The Bagua formation shifted, the Xun position appearing beneath his feet.

The ghost, still airborne, had not landed when the ancestor continued, “Qian is heaven, force draws the Celestial Jade.”

The formation instantly shifted, Qian position beneath Chen San’s feet. He struck the ghost with his palm. Though the motion seemed gentle, the force was like a meteor’s descent—utterly irresistible. The ghost’s body dissolved into mist on contact. If not for the crimson runes still gathering ghost and evil energy, that blow might have scattered it completely.

Almost instantly, the ghost’s claws lashed at Chen San’s head as its dissipated form reconstituted itself.

“Gen is mountain, steadfast as the Open Sun.” The formation shifted again; he raised his hand to block the ghost’s attack.

Yang Chengzi was appalled. He’d been sent flying by a single swipe from the ghost earlier and knew its strength well. Before he could even cry out, a deep, resounding thud shook his soul as ghostly force and the ancestor’s presence exploded outward.

Yang Chengzi could not believe that the ancestor’s seemingly casual gesture not only blocked the ghost’s assault but did so without the slightest tremor.

The ghost’s relentless blows were all easily parried. The shorter black-robed figure grew restless, eyeing Yang Chengzi, but the taller one stopped him, gesturing at the ground. They stood at the very edge of the Bagua formation—should they enter, they would face more than just Yang Chengzi. The short one seemed to understand and held back.

Every attack from the ghost was deflected. The shorter black-robed man produced another black-purple talisman, and at this, the ghost retreated. The man began chanting. The Daoist ancestor remained motionless, and Yang Chengzi dared not make a move either, staring at the Bagua formation and recalling the ancestor’s instructions for the Celestial Bagua Phenomenon Array.

The talisman burned as before—no other spirits appeared. As the ashes drifted to the ground, the ghost opened its mouth to an unnatural width. Before Yang Chengzi could react, countless orbs of ghost qi, each the size of a Buddhist prayer bead, flooded from its maw, hurtling toward Yang Chengzi and the ancestor. There were so many, so pure, and so dense that evasion was impossible.

If struck by this barrage, one’s soul would be torn asunder, scattered beyond recall. As the ghostly orbs drew near, Yang Chengzi felt death’s shadow—no Maoshan technique he knew could withstand such an onslaught.

“Zhen is thunder, energy shakes the Celestial Radiance.” The formation shifted to Zhen, appearing beneath the ghost and extending toward the ancestor.

Yang Chengzi froze. Zhen—could it be thunder magic? As the thought arose, countless silver-white sparks appeared within the position, growing larger, arcs of lightning flickering between them. From the sky, a silver dragon plummeted. Sensing danger, the black-robed men retreated beyond the formation’s edge.

The silver dragon dove, devouring all the light points, and struck the ground. With a thunderous boom, ripples radiated from the Zhen position. The ghostly orbs racing toward Yang Chengzi were instantly consumed and vanished. The ghost within the Zhen position was shattered, though not destroyed.

Caught too close, Yang Chengzi was hurled several paces by the shockwave, nearly losing consciousness. The summoner of the silver dragon, the Daoist ancestor—Chen San—was closest yet unharmed, as if the heavenly thunder descended beside his hand without injury.

For a long time afterward, Yang Chengzi would wonder: why was this Daoist ancestor immune to thunder? Could he be one of those legendary cultivators who had survived a heavenly tribulation? But at the moment, battered by internal wounds and the shockwave, Yang Chengzi could barely cling to consciousness, sprawled on the ground, his sword lost who knows where.

The ancestor looked at the ghost still re-forming before him. “This spirit can only be sealed. Time is short; it’s up to your fortune how much you can learn.”

He formed the fourth Heavenly Gang seal, reciting, “Dui is marsh, the Four Symbols brush the Celestial Balance.”

With these words, the Bagua shifted, Dui replacing Zhen beneath the ghost. The ghost still struggled to reform, but the interval was too short; its body was incomplete. The shorter black-robed man could bear it no longer. If he did not act, the ghost would be utterly destroyed—a fate he was willing to risk his life to prevent.

Ignoring his companion’s restraint, he rushed forward, leaping high and drawing a ritual implement shaped like a short sword, inscribed with runes and glinting with a sinister silver-black light. Slashing his palm, fresh blood flowed into the runes, and he flung the weapon.

The ancestor glanced up. A bloody whip lashed out, but with serene hand seals, he shifted the array. With a crack, the whip struck the ghost’s still-forming body, causing it to collapse and dissipate anew.

The black-robed man was shocked—his whip no longer obeyed him within this formation. In truth, the ancestor had simply swapped the positions of himself and the ghost within the array, so the whip landed where the ghost now stood.

He formed another seal. “Dui is marsh, the Four Symbols brush the Celestial Balance.”

In an instant, the Dui position appeared beneath both the ghost and the black-robed man. The man was stunned, but it was too late—the ground beneath his feet began to flow like quicksand, swallowing him. In a blink, he was waist-deep and sinking fast.

The floating ghost qi was also caught, dragged downward bit by bit. As the man’s body disappeared into the sand, the ghost qi was pulled under as well. With almost no time to react, the black-robed man vanished beneath the surface, only one hand still reaching out as he sank.

The remaining black-robed man, watching from afar, had only one thought left: escape. Three had already died, and even this monstrous spirit had gained nothing. This village was cursed. With that, he turned to flee.

The Daoist ancestor shook his head. “Do you think you can escape?”

He formed the sixth and final Heavenly Gang seal, reciting, “Kun is earth, the Six Paths sever the Celestial Pivot.” Instantly, the entire Celestial Bagua Phenomenon Array expanded, covering dozens of miles in all directions.

The black-robed man was horrified—there was nowhere to run. He turned, hoping to make a last stand with his Soul Severing Dagger, but the formation shifted beneath his feet.

“Li is fire, righteous energy burns the heavens and all things are reborn.”

A barrier formed at his feet, as flames from every direction surged toward him. In his panic, the conflagration engulfed him in an instant. A fire dragon erupted from the ground, soaring to the heavens, its endless flames consuming the black-robed man.

By the time Yang Chengzi managed to stand and look, the fire dragon had vanished into the sky. The black-robed man still stood—but now as a charred skeleton, locked in a pose of terror. Though his flesh was gone, his upturned jaw showed the agony of his final moment. With a brittle crack, the searing bones turned white and crumbled to the earth.

The last black-robed man was devoured by this hellish infernal dragon, his soul utterly annihilated. All four black-robed men were dead—the village was saved.

Yang Chengzi looked to Chen San, who smiled and nodded. “Our fate together ends here. May we each walk our destined path.”

Yang Chengzi had just opened his mouth to speak when Chen San collapsed, unconscious, his divine presence fading away.

Staring at Chen San’s prone form, Yang Chengzi was filled with regret. He had only memorized half of the array—just enough to recall how to execute the Celestial Bagua Phenomenon Array. The crucial incantations, he remembered only up to “Zhen is thunder, energy shakes the Celestial Radiance.” After that, the silver dragon’s arrival had sent him flying; he was lucky not to have lost consciousness entirely. His ears still rang, and he had not caught a word of what the ancestor had said.

Yang Chengzi realized he would likely never again witness such a formation. He had never seen it before, nor found any mention of it in the ancient texts he had studied.

When the ancestor performed it, he had said, “Learn what you can.” Clearly, this array was no ordinary art. Moreover, the Daoist ancestor could not only summon heavenly thunder, but was immune to its power. Even with only a trace of his divine will attached to Chen San, he could protect him from the thunder—a feat beyond imagination.