Chapter Thirty-Eight: Into the Trap

As soon as Duan Lingqi burst through the prison gates, his first instinct was to summon rain and mist, to ascend to the heavens riding the clouds. Yet he failed to realize that, in his current form as a demon soul, he possessed not a tenth of his former abilities in the world of the living. Moreover, after having his three hundred years of cultivation siphoned away by the monster with a tiger's head and bull's body, his dragon claws had barely begun to stir the water vapor when his entire body plummeted from midair, crashing heavily onto the open-air round table and shattering it into pieces.

The plate of bloody bait that sat atop the table tumbled to the ground, suddenly sprouting four little blood-soaked feet and, seizing the chaos, slipped into a crack and vanished without a trace.

"Was it some hidden weapon or spell?" Xie Chunxue knew nothing of these matters. Thankfully, she clung tightly to Duan Lingqi's scales and avoided falling off his back.

"The bull-headed monster is almost upon us," Qu Hanchen said, his arms wrapped firmly around Xie Chunxue's waist. There was no time to savor the fragrance of her body—he glanced back at the figure with a bull's head nearly charging out of the cell corridor.

"Don't rush me!" Duan Lingqi, to his credit, was a man of courage—even after such a brutal fall, he uttered not a grunt. He staggered to his feet, shook out his dragon body, and water vapor began to gather beneath his claws. Then, like an earthbound serpent, he darted into any opening he could find.

"Swift!" Xie Chunxue looked back at the pursuing bull-headed and horse-faced demons, and could vaguely see fearsome Rakshasas and Yachas following behind. She drew a deep breath and exhaled a dense white mist, reciting an incantation.

The mist suddenly settled, enveloping Duan Lingqi's entire dragon body like a fog.

With a whoosh, Duan Lingqi's speed shot up to another level.

"How much lifespan did you lose with that breath?" Qu Hanchen lay flat against Duan Lingqi's back, gripping the scales as Xie Chunxue had done. The wind roared past his ears, and the world blurred into torn shadows from their swift pace.

"I am a practitioner of the Dao. My lifespan is long—this is nothing," Xie Chunxue replied calmly.

"But your soul is starting to dissipate," Qu Hanchen said quietly, raising his right eye to observe Xie Chunxue.

As he said, her soul was no longer as solid as before; it was beginning to grow translucent and ethereal.

Xie Chunxue did not respond, gazing ahead with steady eyes as if she hadn't heard him.

The structure of this ghost prison was not complicated: it was circular, divided into three inner and outer layers. The innermost held the imprisoned souls—the very place where Duan Lingqi and his companions had been confined. The second layer was for punishment and interrogation, where evil spirits were tortured.

Unlike hell, they were allowed a brief respite.

Duan Lingqi did not attempt to flee toward the empty sides but instead made the wise choice of heading straight, lest he run in circles and end up where he started.

Thus, when he rammed his hard dragon head through several iron doors that blocked his path, he arrived at the second layer of the ghost prison.

Punishment admits no jest; evil hides no truth.

Eight characters glowed upon the gray wall before them, while their ears were filled with the anguished cries of evil spirits suffering severe torture.

Duan Lingqi cared little for the horrors around him; he only wanted to escape. Yet the gray wall ahead had no door—was he to smash his head against it?

Impossible.

He paused only briefly, looked around, and then dashed left, smashing countless instruments of torture and flinging aside any ghost officers who tried to stop him.

Yet he found himself back where he started.

Those eight characters still shone before them.

"Damn it, if only I could fly!" Duan Lingqi looked up at the open sky above the prison, pacing in place, and angrily pinned an evil spirit beneath his foot that had tried to attack them.

"You probably couldn't fly out anyway," Xie Chunxue replied, glancing at the still absent pursuers, then looked up and surveyed the freed evil spirits.

They ran in every direction, some fighting the ghost officers, but none floated toward the sky.

It seemed there was more to this open-air prison than met the eye.

"Strange—if there's no door, how do the ghost judges enter? Do they walk through walls?" Duan Lingqi straightened, placing his claws on the gray wall, attempting to climb, but his dragon body was only twenty feet, far short of the fifty-foot wall.

Moreover, the wall had no gaps between bricks, as if it were a single seamless stone slab.

"Rather than guess, let's ask the ghost officers," Xie Chunxue said, surveying the surroundings. Her prison garb transformed into a wide-sleeved gray Daoist robe, hemp sandals, and sash, giving her the appearance of an immortal.

Just as she prepared to seize a ghost officer for questioning, one dressed in the garb of the underworld approached with a vacant expression.

"He's one of us," Qu Hanchen said, patting Duan Lingqi to stop him from attacking, and smiled at Xie Chunxue's look of surprise.

"You mustn't use the monsters' abilities—it will corrode your soul and mind," Xie Chunxue replied sternly.

She had been careful to sacrifice her own lifespan rather than let Qu Hanchen abuse the powers of the two monsters residing within him.

"You forget—before summoning those monsters, he gave me another ability," Qu Hanchen said with a quiet laugh. Black, intricate patterns crept from his neck to his cheek, making him appear sinister and eerie.

"He's no saint either," Xie Chunxue murmured, recalling the indifferent face of a handsome man.

"Let's not waste any more time," Qu Hanchen said softly, closing his eyes.

"Quickly lead us out," Xie Chunxue commanded the ghost officer now standing beneath the dragon body.

To her surprise, the ghost officer obeyed, walking to the gray wall and positioning himself among the eight characters.

Bang.

With a quiet sound, the ghost officer was flung aside, revealing a crimson wooden door in the ground.

A sudden doubt arose in Xie Chunxue's heart—she wanted to warn Duan Lingqi to wait, but before she could, he was already bursting through the door.

When she regained her senses, they were standing before a massive bronze door, seven feet tall and five feet wide, with two characters inscribed above.

Ghost Prison.

"I can't break this door," Duan Lingqi said, rubbing his head and gazing at the studded bronze door, doubting his ability to smash it open.

Creak.

The heavy sound of the door echoed through the prison's third layer. On the previously empty ground, shadows appeared—bull-headed and horse-faced demons, Rakshasas, Yachas.

Before Duan Lingqi could retreat, a black net descended from above, trapping them, and the crimson wooden door below slammed shut.

The bull-headed and horse-faced demons bowed, the Rakshasas and Yachas lowered their heads.

Outside the massive bronze door, the ghost judge appeared, two rows of armored ghost officers wielding blades and axes standing behind him.

A surge of ghostly energy shot straight to the heavens.