Yun Ling's expression was grim; she remained silent.
The old man before her was far too enigmatic. He seemed to know everything about them, down to the smallest detail—yet they knew absolutely nothing about him.
"Senior, are you truly so confident that you can kill all of us?" Yun Ling asked tentatively.
"I am," the old man replied calmly. "You should feel honored. Becoming nourishment for my treasures is the greatest blessing your kind could ever hope for."
He clapped his hands.
Instantly, the low-level ghosts around them went berserk, launching themselves at Yun Ling and her companions in a frenzied assault. They fought as though they felt no fear, no pain—only a rabid, suicidal instinct.
Yun Ling swiftly unsheathed a ghostly weapon and cut down one of the lesser ghosts in a single blow. Yet for each ghost that fell, another rushed forward without hesitation. Her contracted ghosts began to falter and retreat under the relentless onslaught.
Some of the second-level ghost tamers saw their contracted spirits torn to pieces—devoured alive by the mad swarm.
The battlefield descended into chaos. Ghost tamers were overwhelmed and slain where they stood. There were simply too many enemies; no amount of strength could hold them off indefinitely.
Yun Ling and the others found themselves gradually losing ground.
From a distance, the black-robed old man observed the carnage with unnerving composure.
Yun Ling's brow furrowed. At this rate, they would all die here. Though stronger than the low-level ghosts, they couldn't withstand this continuous depletion.
The old man had clearly unleashed this horde with the sole intent of grinding them down.
When the time felt right, he took out a small, patterned sachet.
The moment it was revealed, a wretched stench filled the air—so foul it could be smelled from far away. A pungent blend of corpse rot and sewer sludge.
And yet, the old man appeared unfazed, as though he didn't smell a thing.
He slowly opened the sachet and called out, "Come, my treasure."
With his words, a terrifying pressure swept through the air. A female ghost materialized, floating above the ground.
She wore white, her hair disheveled. But unlike other spirits, her face lacked the pallor of death—instead, it radiated a bloodthirsty malice.
In terms of power, she was at least on par with Chen Xi.
The moment she appeared, Yun Ling and the others instinctively took a step back, wary and shaken.
"Kill them all," the old man ordered, his voice as calm as ever. "They are your feast."
Without hesitation, the female ghost lunged at Yun Ling.
Yun Ling raised her weapon and managed to block the initial strike—but the young man beside her wasn't so lucky. The ghost grabbed him by the torso and, with one swift twist, tore his head clean off. Then she used her hand to draw in his lifeblood.
In mere moments, his body was a dried husk upon the earth.
From the time the ghost attacked to the man's death, not even three minutes had passed.
Yun Ling and her allies were trapped, like fish in a barrel. Escape was no longer an option.
Despair painted every face.
Then the ghost set her sights on Lin Xi.
Lin Xi's contracted spirit was no match for such power. In the blink of an eye, the ghost was upon her, her hand tightening around Lin Xi's throat.
A chill spread through Lin Xi's neck.
She closed her eyes, certain death had come.
But... nothing happened.
She opened her eyes again—and saw a dark silhouette standing between her and the ghost.
"Mo Lin..." she gasped.
He had arrived just in time. Without him, she would surely be dead.
"You... why are you here?" she stammered.
Relief surged through her, followed by a flicker of hopelessness. Even if Mo Lin had come—what could he do? He couldn't possibly save them all.
Both of Yun Ling's contracted ghosts were badly wounded.
"Some of us will stay behind to hold the line," Yun Ling commanded, her voice calm and firm. "The rest must escape while we still can."
Her meaning was clear—sacrifice the few to save the many.
It was brutal, but it was the only realistic path forward.
"Strong ones stay. The weak—run," she said again.
Only those with enough power could buy time for others to flee.
Lin Xi clenched her teeth and nudged Mo Lin, urging him to escape when the moment came.
What a kind-hearted girl.
"I'll take care of the rest," Mo Lin said, gently.
"Ugh..." Lin Xi tugged at his sleeve and muttered, "That's not funny. We're all about to die—stop joking around."
She couldn't be blamed for not believing him—she had never seen Mo Lin's true strength.
Tang Fang murmured, "I heard there's a level-five ghost tamer in our organization. If he were here... we might actually survive."
Yun Ling nodded. "I've heard of him too. Not long ago, he summoned two nightmare-class ghosts at HQ and caused a huge commotion."
In their despair, they instinctively reached for the hope that man represented.
"Enough talk about him," Yun Ling said, inhaling deeply. "We need to survive first."
Everyone steeled themselves for the final battle.
Mo Lin locked eyes with the ghost.
She stared back—and then, something shocking happened.
The ghost turned... and ran.
Yes—ran.
She bolted in the opposite direction, fleeing as fast as she could.
Everyone was stunned.
They had all prepared to die. Yet the most terrifying ghost had simply fled.
"Uh..." Even Mo Lin froze—then his expression changed to panic.
That powerful ghost—just escaped?
Absolutely not.
He was here to catch ghosts. And this one was too valuable to let slip away.
Without hesitation, Mo Lin gave chase.
Far behind, the black-robed old man stood stunned for several moments before realizing what had happened—and immediately followed after.
That ghost had taken him years of effort to cultivate. She had never fled before—why now?
He had to find out.