"Are you seriously planning to go after the old Black Mountain Demon?"
Chixia couldn't help but speak up. "That thing is a black mountain turned demon through cultivation! You provoke it, you die. How do you expect to kill it?"
Fenric didn't doubt Chixia's words.
In the original plot, Chixia's Empyrean Sword only managed to destroy a clone of the old demon. In the third part of [A Bride Ghost Story], the Lord of Black Mountain reappears as a massive mountain-shaped entity—terrifying beyond imagination.
Fenric's plan was simpler: enter the underworld, slaughter the countless ghosts and demons under the Black Mountain Demon's command, and harvest a massive amount of Yin value.
As for killing the Black Mountain Demon himself?
That wasn't a requirement—just a bonus.
"I want to give it a try."
With that, Fenric activated his disguise skill, feigning righteousness. "I heard the Black Mountain Demon is a great scourge—its sins innumerable. I'm going to eliminate it and bring peace to the people!"
Chixia: "…"
He seriously suspected the young man in front of him was either insane or unbelievably naive.
"You're sincere, and I don't want to crush that. But that demon is terrifying beyond belief. You can't possibly handle it."
Fenric suddenly grinned. "Hey, Bearded One, how about a bet?"
He eyed Chixia's sword. "Your sword looks nice. If I manage to kill the Black Mountain Demon, how about you give it to me?"
Chixia was taken aback, then barked out a curse. "You brat—you've got good eyes! This sword is a treasure. But fine. If you really can kill that monster, I'll personally hand it over to you!"
"Deal!" Fenric laughed. "But first, I'll kill that old tree demon. After that, I'll find a way into the Dead City, and then you—yeah, you—will help me go after that monster in Black Mountain!"
Chixia frowned. "That old witch is no joke. Its true form is a thousand-year-old tree demon, and it's drained countless men of their pure yang energy. Its magic is boundless. Even I wouldn't face it head-on."
"Then wait for my news."
Fenric didn't bother arguing. He left those words behind and turned away, striding into the night.
A long night—the perfect time for demons to dance.
Leaving Orchid Temple, Fenric didn't go far. He stopped in a stretch of wilderness, caught a hare using his Telekinesis powers, gathered some dry branches, and lit a fire to roast it.
As for the fire source?
Whether it was Thor's Hammer or the Mark VII suit, both had built-in ignition functions.
And this fire wasn't just for cooking.
Fenric deliberately made it large and obvious—an invitation to any nearby female ghosts.
Soon, the rabbit meat was nearly done. Just as Fenric was about to take his first bite, the distant sound of a zither began to drift through the night air.
In the dead of night, deep in deserted wildlands, someone was playing a zither?
Any fool could sense something was wrong.
Well—except for fools like the protagonist Naichen.
Fenric, fully aware this was a female ghost's baiting technique, picked up his rabbit meat and casually followed the music.
A short while later, Fenric reached a riverbank.
An elegant attic stood by the water, and from within, a beautiful woman dressed in flowing white played the qin gracefully.
She looked to be around eighteen or nineteen. Her hair fell like a waterfall, and her features were delicate—brows like distant mountains, eyes like moonlit stars, and skin glowing with a soft, cloud-like radiance.
She was breathtaking.
As beautiful as a figure painted by a master.
Even Fenric couldn't help but sigh—this girl was stunning enough to make hearts race.
No wonder Naichen had refused to believe she was a ghost.
This was Lillian.
Yes, the very same.
And coincidentally, Fenric was looking for her.
When Lillian finished her piece, Fenric clapped.
"Beautiful," he said with a grin. "I don't know much about music, but it sure sounded good to me."
Lillian feigned surprise and panic, her expression pitiful. "Who are you? W-Why are you here?"
It was an act, of course.
She'd served the old tree demon for years, luring countless men to their doom. She was more skilled at seduction than any club girl.
Normally, one little show of panic was enough for men to throw themselves at her.
But tonight felt… off.
She waited a long moment, yet Fenric didn't so much as budge.
Still seated, still smiling, he simply watched her.
Suspicious now, she peeked up at him—this strange, handsome man who showed no lust in his eyes.
Was he... immune?
She gritted her teeth. Time to ramp it up.
Suddenly, she stumbled and fell—right into a nearby branch.
Riiiip.
Her clothes tore, revealing a large expanse of fair skin.
"Ah!"
She cried out, hugging herself and sneakily glancing at Fenric again.
Still no reaction.
He just kept smiling.
Fenric was watching a show—her performance.
Truthfully, Lillian's acting was excellent. If Fenric didn't already know the story and her identity as a ghost, even he might have been fooled.
At last, seeing her efforts, he decided to speak.
"Miss Lillian," he said cheerfully, "you've been acting for quite a while now. Aren't you tired? Want a break?"
When Fenric called her by name, her face immediately paled.
"Who… who are you?" she stammered.
"Me?" Fenric smiled. "I'm here to save you, Miss Lillian."
"Save me?" Lillian narrowed her eyes. "And how exactly do you plan to do that, my 'savior'?"
"Simple," Fenric said. "I know your bones are buried and suppressed under the thousand-year-old tree demon. You're being forced to do this. Just tell me where that old thing's real body is, and I'll help you destroy it. Free you from this cursed fate. Let you reincarnate."
"!!"
Now she was truly shaken.
"Who… who are you?" she asked again, trembling.
Fenric shrugged. "Still don't believe me?"
He glanced at her ankle.
There, a delicate bell was fastened—the same bell used to summon the thousand-year tree demon.
In the story, every time she lured in a man, Lillian would ring the bell to summon her "grandma" to feed.
With a flick of his finger, the bell snapped free and flew into Fenric's palm, guided by his Telekinesis.
"Stop! Don't touch that!"
Lillian's face turned pale as she lunged to stop him—but it was already too late.