Xiao followed the familiar presence into the home of the father and daughter. In the dim, gently flickering candlelight, he was met with scattered medicinal herbs, shattered tools, and crooked, overturned furniture.
On the ground and on the table lay several mushrooms shaped strangely like dragon horns. Anyone who had seen the Archon's immortal form would instantly recognize that these mushrooms looked exactly like the Geo Archon's horns.
But to Xiao, they were merely remnants of a fallen god.
Negative, filthy, and dangerously enticing, the power whispered songs of the Dragonhorn Mushroom into Xiao's mind. His own karmic debt, like underground fire stirred by a divine lightning strike, turned into mocking laughter echoing in his ears. In the shadows, it felt as if countless faceless spirits wound themselves around him.
"This little girl is truly pitiful~ She doesn't even know she's the one who killed her father with her own hands! Hee hee hee!"
"Pfft~ Funny, isn't it? Is it really that funny? Ahahaha! I'm dying laughing!"
"Maybe I should go tell that little girl myself, see if she breaks down~"
If these things had faces, Xiao thought, they'd be utterly revolting.
He was long used to this. Crushing the Dragonhorn Mushrooms on the table into powder and grinding those on the floor into dust, he let their vengeful, lingering black energy merge into his body.
"Our great hero isn't affected at all~"
"So heartless. You used to talk to us. Now you won't even say a word?"
After thoroughly inspecting everything in the house and confirming no trace of filth remained, Xiao set out along the path he assumed the little girl had taken to pick mushrooms.
Exorcise evil, leave none behind.
"What have you actually protected?" a commanding voice rang in his ear.
Xiao faltered mid-step.
"Why did you realize so late? You didn't do your duty. You're the one who got me killed!" came the voice of a middle-aged man.
"Why did you kill my daddy?" the little girl's choked voice echoed.
Xiao took a deep breath and accelerated forward using Lemniscatic Wind Cycling.
"You got me killed, and you still dare to live on? Still have the face to live? You call yourself the protector of Dihua Marsh? Give me back my life!"
"Who'll save my daddy? Someone save my daddy…"
"When will your karmic debt ever be repaid?" came the stern voice again.
"…Stop using his voice." Xiao muttered coldly.
"Oh, he's angry, he's angry! That trick really worked!"
"Aiya~ and here I thought you didn't like us anymore~"
"Oh~, my favorite—rage! What a delightful emotion. Give us more!"
"What's this? Can't even stand to hear my voice?" The commanding tone returned.
"I said, stop using his voice."
For a thousand years, Xiao had slain countless wronged spirits and malevolent creatures in Dihua Marsh. He had always maintained a tranquil heart. Otherwise, he would have long since been devoured by them.
But the Archon could not be insulted.
Silently, the Yaksha mask of exorcism covered his face. A wave of immense pain swept over him, and the black miasma that usually remained hidden burst forth, trembling with agony.
The karmic filth from the remnants of the fallen god could only be worn down by the passage of time. But the pain from performing the Nuo Dance of Evil Conquering was enough to drag that filth into suffering along with him.
For a time, only wails remained in his ears.
Eventually, Xiao found a Dragonhorn Mushroom that bloomed like a cluster of flowers on a rock. The concentrated resentment above it had taken shape—an old, hunched, one-eyed, limp creature.
"Child, I see you're burdened with karmic debt. Try this Dragonhorn Mushroom—it'll surely lighten your load."
"You don't believe me? This was grown from the Geo Archon's own horn, cut off with his own hands to protect his people. You must believe it!"
When Xiao didn't fall for the bait, the old man's expression twisted with malice. His entire form transformed into a sharp spike and shot toward Xiao's forehead—only for Xiao to accept it head-on without flinching.
The fragment's shallow will couldn't endure the pain of the Nuo Dance of Evil Conquering. Amidst its screams, it dissolved, turning into nourishment for the black aura shrouding Xiao. But it failed to make that aura even a shade darker. Without the evil spirit sustaining them, the surrounding Dragonhorn Mushrooms turned to stone and crumbled away.
"Wandering souls of the wild… you shall not harm me."
"Hahahaha! Wandering soul of the wild! Compared to us, you're more like one!" one particularly strong karmic taint sneered through the wails.
"Old man, you did great, really great!"
"If we can't hurt you, we'll target Morax's people instead! That'll make you feel something, won't it? Look at all the good you've done—just look!"
"Enough! Stop attacking my brother! Can't you understand? The evil spirit only just appeared—maybe an hour ago! My brother doesn't even get to rest! Blame the little girl—she couldn't resist temptation, pretending to be some filial child, running out in the middle of the night to pick herbs! She deserved it! Why don't we just kill her, send her to her dad in the afterlife?"
Xiao gasped for air. Primordial Jade Winged-Spear shattered the rock before him and drove its tip deep into the ground. Clutching the weapon, his head bowed low, the form of the Guardian Yaksha fully emerged.
The black aura around him was being shredded and dispersed, yet clung to him like bone-deep rot. Instead of thinning, it grew denser—flaring into black flames that surged and writhed around him.
And as the pain intensified, even the wails faded away.
Yet a voice, eternally lingering, rose again:
"See? If I had defeated Morax, none of this would've happened. Isn't that right?"
This voice always arrived at the end, as if appearing last granted it superiority—as if that somehow made it special, the true victor.
Sadly, it seemed so comfortable amid Xiao's speechless agony. It wasn't ordinary.
Resentment? Lingering thoughts? Hatred? Karmic debt? A curse upon this land?
Or was it all just ordinary hallucinations?
Xiao could no longer tell. But he would endure them all—until the very end.
…
No one knew how much time had passed. The little girl hadn't woken, and Xiao hadn't returned. From down the road came the sound of an approaching carriage. It stopped just short of the house.
Victor Wang braced himself and turned around. It was Huai'an, the innkeeper from Wangshu Inn, accompanied by Randa—a self-proclaimed traveling merchant—and two unfamiliar men.
"This is… Ning Gu?" Randa eyed the headless corpse uncertainly. "That young master really didn't hold back…"
"In a life-and-death struggle, there's no room for mercy."
"…Sigh."
"Don't just stand there—clean it up and send him off properly."
Randa and the two men brought out tools from the cart and began clearing the grim scene. Huai'an stepped closer to the body, rummaged through the clothing, and indeed found a jade bracelet and a sealed letter.
Once the remains were gathered, they doused them with a special solution. Flames roared to life.
"From dust you came, and to dust you return. Rest now. We will care for your daughter."
After the fire purified all, they collected the ashes into a jar and buried it in a small pit behind the house.
"Never thought it would be you…"
Only after everything was done did Huai'an approach Victor Wang. He clasped his hands together in greeting.
"Didn't expect to meet you here, of all places."
He pointed to the girl lying in the reeds of Dihua Marsh.
"Ning Zhen—that's her. Let us take care of her."
When Victor Wang didn't respond, Huai'an added in a tone somewhere between explanation and lament:
"Her father was gravely ill. Even Bubu Pharmacy said there was no cure. A few days ago, he came to us, asked us to care for his daughter after he passed. Who would've thought he'd suffer this before even dying from illness?"
He crouched and picked up the girl.
"Does this happen often in Dihua Marsh?"
"You mean the evil spirits? They change constantly—tricks beyond imagining—and yes, they appear frequently. But incidents involving death are still rare. That young master… he's done everything he can."
"…"
"Dihua Marsh was once desolate. Even the reeds refused to grow. People had to move away. Merchants would go miles out of their way to avoid this place. After everything it's endured, it's amazing the marsh has recovered this much."
"As long as the young master… as long as he's still here, Dihua Marsh will one day be fully restored!" Randa added fervently.
"Yes… that would be wonderful. I hope I live to see the day he retires peacefully," Huai'an sighed deeply, then turned to the others. "Come on, we're done here. We've still got a long way to go."
The three men nodded.
"Well then, sir—see you tomorrow."
Their group came quickly and left just as swiftly. The carriage carrying the girl soon disappeared down the road. Behind the house, a new grave had been added.
It was as if nothing had happened at all.