The Five Ghosts had already begun devouring the souls of Zhan Ling and the others—this couldn't be allowed to continue.
At that moment, the Plague God had also prepared for battle, but from his grim expression, it was clear he wasn't confident.
Had his elder brother Hu Wenhui been here, with his Sun Body illuminating the scene, those five malevolent spirits wouldn't have dared act so brazenly—they'd have obediently waited to be exorcised.
After a brief hesitation, I said, "Senior, I actually have a method, but it's... not exactly orthodox."
The Plague God asked, "Something from Old Cripple Song?"
I nodded.
His face turned dark.
In his world, good is good and evil is evil—no justification changes that.
That's exactly why I had hesitated to use the techniques taught to me by Old Cripple Song.
But Zhan Ling and the others' eyes had begun to dull, their bodies convulsing—clear signs their souls were under attack.
If I delayed any longer, they'd be left as soulless husks.
And if the Plague God fought, even if he won, he'd suffer injuries that would diminish his deterrent power.
He glanced at the group, snorted, and said, "I've got business upstairs."
With that, he turned and walked into the villa.
I had always been respectful toward this uninvited Plague God, but I didn't know much about him.
Now I saw he had something in common with Hu Wenhui—neither were as rigid as I'd assumed.
Seeing him go upstairs, I kicked over the altar, formed a hand seal, and shouted, "This is your last chance—leave now or suffer the consequences!"
The Five Ghosts, now controlling Zhan Ling and the others' bodies, responded in unison: "You invited us here, boy. You think you can just make us leave? Not so easy."
Since they were already manipulating the bodies, I didn't bother with more warnings.
I shouted angrily, "Refuse the wine of courtesy and you'll drink the wine of punishment. Sister Zhan Ling, crush the clay figures!"
On command, the five ignited their blood energy, momentarily seizing back control of their bodies, and crushed the clay figures in their hands.
Human bodies have three soul gates. Without the clay figures as mediums, the Five Ghosts were forced out by spiritual light and ejected from their hosts.
They turned and rushed toward me, one after another diving into my body, then charging toward my soul gates in unison.
Five spirits working together were far more powerful than a lone ghost.
But as soon as they reached the exterior of my soul gate, they sensed something was wrong.
My body had become a coffin.
A coffin of flesh, with blood as sigils.
What I had constructed was a Soul-Suppressing Coffin.
Using one's body to seal evil spirits isn't unheard of. Many Daoists, when unable to subdue a powerful ghost, would open their soul gates to trap the spirit within and then have someone kill them both to prevent wider harm.
But the spell I used—the Human Coffin Devouring Heaven Technique—was different.
Old Cripple Song used a similar method to create his cursed urns, which is why Xu Dafa had gone into town to buy an urn capable of suppressing vengeful spirits.
If it were just that, it would be considered a fringe practice, not outright evil.
But the version Old Cripple Song taught me didn't just suppress—it devoured.
It was akin to the "Great Star-Absorbing Technique," capable of devouring ghosts and even human souls.
That made it truly terrifying.
The spell's name alone was fearsome: Human Coffin Devouring Heaven Technique.
It had ten levels. The more souls one devoured, the faster the progress.
At the tenth level, one could supposedly devour the heavens themselves with their body as a coffin.
Of course, that's mostly legend.
Centuries ago, a prodigy from the Song family feared the family would fall into darkness, so he destroyed the technique's advancement path.
As a result, no matter how many souls one devours—living or dead—the spell no longer progresses in power.
The absorbed energy eventually dissipates.
To progress, one would either need the lost advancement method or an extraordinary talent to reinvent it.
Old Cripple Song lacked the talent but found a workaround.
He taught me to inject the devoured energy into the Blood Thorn, to nourish the 108 spirits sealed within.
The result is the same: the spell's power increases—not in myself, but in the 108 Generals within the Blood Thorn.
After all, coffins are meant to house the dead.
As the Five Ghosts entered, their strength was immediately drained by the sigils etched in my blood and channeled into the Blood Thorn.
The Blood Thorn glowed crimson, as if blood was burning in molten iron.
After thirty minutes, the Five Ghosts had been completely refined.
When the absorption ended, the Blood Thorn's glow faded.
I took a deep breath, circulated my Dao energy to normalize the chaotic blood flow, and waved my hand. A red flash burst from the Blood Thorn, and a towering figure over three meters tall appeared—Di Zhuang Xing (Earth Robust Star).
By the rankings of the 72 Earthly Fiends, Di Gou Xing (Earth Dog Star) is last. Between them are Di Lie Xing, Di Jian Xing, Di Hao Xing, and Di Zei Xing.
This meant that devouring five evil spirits had boosted my control over the Blood Thorn by five levels.
Retracting Di Zhuang Xing, I waved the Blood Thorn again—six divine generals manifested simultaneously.
This confirmed my suspicion: once I could summon a more powerful general, all the lesser ones below it became available as well.
Though they were the six lowest Earthly Fiends, each bore a star title and had been carefully selected by Old Cripple Song—their strength was beyond doubt.
Unfortunately, I discovered I could only grant full consciousness to one general at a time.
Also, not every general bestowed special abilities on me.
Of the six, only Di Gou Xing and Di Zhuang Xing gave me unique enhancements.
Di Gou Xing enhanced my sensory perception.
Di Zhuang Xing enhanced my physical strength.
Not bad, actually. Otherwise, if I summoned Di Chou Xing (Earth Ugly Star), I might literally turn hideous.
That sort of "power" would be more curse than blessing.
And I'd have to worry about Xiaocui disliking me.
After all, everyone values beauty. I'm no exception.
Honestly, if Xiaocui hadn't been stunningly beautiful when I first met her, I probably wouldn't have kept her around.
But things are different now—our bond goes beyond appearances.
Still, I'd rather not turn ugly if I can help it.
After daydreaming for a moment, I dismissed the generals and checked on Zhan Ling and the others.
Thankfully, their souls were intact.
They had residual yin energy in their bodies, but a few days in the sun would resolve that.
I bowed deeply and said, "Thank you, Sister Zhan Ling, Brother Yuan, Brother Zhang, Brother Chen, Brother Sun!"
They waved it off—"No need for thanks. We're on your payroll; we just did our job."
Zhan Ling asked nervously, "Li Yang, where did you find such terrifying ghosts?"
"It's a long story."
I wasn't trying to be secretive, but earlier I'd taken down quite a few experts from the Mystic Realm and the Three Yin Sect.
If they found out, it might cause more harm than good.
Zhan Ling saw I didn't want to elaborate and didn't press further.
After a night of hard fighting, I'd asserted my authority.
While Xiaocui was in the shower, I kicked that thieving cat out of the bedroom.
That night, I held Xiaocui in my arms and slept soundly until morning.
When I went downstairs, I heard Zhan Ling and the others talking about a major clash last night between the Mystic Realm and the Three Yin Sect in the southern part of the city.
Three cultivators in the Fusion Realm from Longhu Mountain were killed.
Another three from Laoshan also died.
And one cultivator in the Ascension Realm was seriously injured.