Chapter Fifty: You Are Nothing but a Pawn Abandoned

"That's right. The other possibility is that all of this was orchestrated from the start." Fang Mu clapped his hands, wearing an expression that said, "Your performance was quite impressive." He continued, "He must have sent you to explain everything, perhaps offering you benefits you couldn't refuse, so you would lure us into a trap. No matter which it is, it's impossible for me to fall for it."

Beside him, the Iron Diviner invoked the illusion of a bagua, bathing the Ghost Path in even brighter light.

"No, what I said is true!" Zheng Wen's face changed, and he shouted loudly, "You have to believe me!"

"I do believe you," Fang Mu replied as he walked toward Zheng Wen, speaking as he advanced, "So why don't you sacrifice yourself for the greater good? Let us kill you, and then we'll follow you to find him—how about that?"

The butcher's knife gleamed with a chilling light, and Fang Mu's footsteps echoed through the silent Ghost Path.

"I can lead the way for you, you can't kill me! If you kill me, you'll never find him! Don't do anything rash!"

At that very moment, Zheng Wen couldn't hold it in any longer and cried out.

Fang Mu shook his head. "Never find him again? Seems I guessed right. You're just another pawn."

Zheng Wen froze.

The Iron Diviner added, "If we kill you, he'd be the only strange practitioner left. Wouldn't that cut off all clues? Brother Demon of the Bronze Diviner, the mastermind behind all this is truly meticulous."

"Meticulous is an understatement," Fang Mu said with a laugh. "What a pity—when your subordinates are pigs. It's not a godlike enemy you should fear, but piglike teammates. Give them a little scare, and they'll spill everything."

"You tricked me!" In an instant, Zheng Wen's aura grew sinister, black energy of the uncanny swirling up from his hands to envelop his entire body.

Now he understood—his performance had given everything away just now. Still, he couldn't help but think the other side's reasoning made sense.

Fang Mu twirled his butcher's knife regretfully. "That mastermind has the worst luck. How did he end up with underlings like you? What could've been a winning game is now a complete mess."

The county magistrate Zhang, Zheng Wen—both had ruined otherwise clever plans, turning them into utter farce.

Of course, there was a certain brilliance in the mastermind's arrangements as well.

Whether the plan succeeded or failed, it wouldn't affect him. In fact, failure might even be preferable.

Take Magistrate Zhang—his failure meant the clues in Meng County were lost.

It's the same with Zheng Wen. He'd die, inevitably. If he could deceive us, fine; if not, so be it. Once he's dead, the trail ends.

After all, there's no way for them to reveal the mastermind's identity. He could use them as disposable pawns without worry, and even harvest more powerful uncanny spirits.

The Iron Diviner laughed cheerfully, "This mindset reminds me of the first time I gave a false reading."

"So... I'm just a disposable pawn as well," Zheng Wen finally understood, his composure shattered. He muttered in a daze, "You said you’d make us different, that we’d be transformed. I even recognized you as my foster father, but you just saw me as expendable."

Black energy billowed from his hands, accompanied by chilling howls and wails.

In the blink of an eye, Zheng Wen was completely shrouded in darkness.

When the black mist faded, Zheng Wen no longer resembled the pampered young master.

His entire body was rotting, his once-clean robe now covered in flesh and blood, and black vapor seeped from his decayed flesh.

Zheng Wen let out a shrill cry, his whole being deranged.

Swept up by the black energy, Zheng Wen charged at Fang Mu.

"Brother Demon, be careful—he's at the peak of the Dragon Gate Realm! Bagua, rise!" the Iron Diviner shouted.

Illusory bagua symbols rose up from all sides, as if the four corners of a sheet of paper were being lifted by invisible hands, pressing inward from every direction.

This man was at the peak of the Dragon Gate Realm—his strength was formidable.

Because of the conversation, Fang Mu was already very close to Zheng Wen, and the Iron Diviner prepared to help.

He wasn't a fool. Even if the two had only met a few times, he had to step in. If Fang Mu were killed easily, he'd be next.

But then the Iron Diviner froze in place, taken aback by what unfolded.

A flash of cold steel, crimson true energy surging forth.

The butcher's knife swept out a dense web of fiery red light, enveloping Zheng Wen.

In mere moments, Zheng Wen's furious roars were abruptly silenced.

"Your casting speed is far too slow," Fang Mu said as he sheathed his blade.

Zheng Wen stared blankly, looking down.

At that instant, crimson lines of blood appeared all over his body, and in the blink of an eye, he was reduced to a heap of fragments.

The Iron Diviner was stunned. He was glad he'd not resisted back in Great Wilderness Village—against this strength, he'd have been dead meat.

"Something's wrong," Fang Mu muttered, not knowing what the Iron Diviner was thinking as he gazed at the pieces on the ground, shaking his head.

The Iron Diviner stepped forward, also examining the fragments.

"Doesn't it disgust you?" Fang Mu asked.

The Iron Diviner replied, "Between disgust and strength, I'll take strength. Brother Demon, that's just how this world is—if you want to survive, you have to adapt."

Fang Mu said no more, simply nodding.

Though Zheng Wen had been reduced to pieces, each fragment was still wreathed in black energy.

On every fragment, black mist was slowly gathering. When a fragment lost its black energy, it immediately dissolved into blue smoke and vanished.

"What is this..." The Iron Diviner took out his compass, but after a while he shook his head. "I can't make it out."

"Meow!"

Ah Bai, perched on Fang Mu's shoulder, let out a shrill cry, as if issuing a warning.

"Is it the uncanny?" Fang Mu asked.

Ah Bai meowed again, then growled menacingly at the dark mist.

In no time, a figure formed from the black mist appeared before them.

Though it was made of vapor, the face was clearly Zheng Wen's.

The figure stood stiffly, its expression twisted and conflicted.

"Die... die..."

A discordant voice issued from the figure's mouth, as it clutched its head and shook it wildly from side to side.

Fang Mu reached out and brushed at it, his hand passing right through.

Not a tangible entity, then—not the undead kind of uncanny. Something else?

For uncanny spirits bound by rules, killing them would release an invisible ripple, allowing one to search the corpse. Would this uncanny be the same?

With that in mind, Fang Mu drew his butcher's knife.

The moment he did, the previously frenzied figure froze.

Its vacant face turned toward him, staring fixedly at the blade in Fang Mu's hand.

Hatred twisted its features—it seemed to recognize the knife that had slain it. With a screech, it lunged at Fang Mu.

"Kill you once, and there'll be a second time."

A flash of cold steel—the butcher's blade rose, cleaving the uncanny from head to toe.

Hot true energy surged, and the figure was split cleanly in two.

Then, an invisible ripple spread out.