Chapter Nine: The Demonic Monk of White Bones

The three Buddhist relic bones, radiating a chilling aura, had barely touched the ground when a sudden change occurred. The ashen-grey relics began voraciously absorbing the surrounding spectral winds, releasing wisps of mist that quickly enveloped several meters around them. This fog began to devour an ever-wider area, rampaging through the ruins of the monastery.

“Is this a demonic mist or a ghostly one?” Ning Cheng was startled by the scene and hastily glanced westward at the sunset, where the last streak of crimson light lingered. The sun had not yet fully set; under such circumstances, it was unlikely that ghosts would manifest, and only demons could appear. The main difference between ghosts and demons was that ghosts were dead and usually incorporeal, while demons typically possessed physical form and could appear during daylight. Of course, there were exceptions—zombie corpses, for instance, were a special type of ghost that briefly returned to consciousness by inhabiting a dead body, thus gaining physical form.

Now, with the sudden appearance of this demonic mist, what was its true substance? Clearly, it was the three Buddhist relic bones. Ning Cheng was facing the worst possible scenario. Had it been a ghost, he could have safely escaped the monastery ruins while the last rays of the sun lingered. But demons were not restricted by the cycle of day and night in the mortal world, so his chances of escaping from the demon born of the relic bones were slim.

Thus, as soon as the demonic mist rose, Ning Cheng abandoned any thought of fleeing. The black staff formed from the Yellow Springs Sword spun in his hand, much like the Iron Staff wielded by the Great Sage Equal to Heaven as he stormed the Celestial Palace, creating a circle of overlapping shadows that served as a defensive perimeter. Though it did not shimmer with golden light, the staff itself was no ordinary object. Within the gray mist, Ning Cheng was astonished to find that wherever the black staff touched, the fog vanished instantly.

Protected by the myriad shadows of the staff, Ning Cheng remained untouched by the demonic mist, his mind clear and unaffected. “Oh? This young master is not influenced by my Bewildering Mist? Very well! Let me see what treasures you possess that can counter my spell!”

Ning Cheng was about to break free from the mist when he noticed that three monk figures, clad in black robes, had appeared within the haze at some unknown moment. Each looked identical, and they spoke in unison, their voices filled with surprise and greed.

“These three seem to share a single mind, or have they used the legendary incarnation technique?” Ning Cheng thought anxiously. The mist had been dispelled by his staff, but with the true forms of the demon revealed—three bodies in one—he was no match for them. Whether they were of one mind in separate bodies or using incarnations, it meant this demon was not the type that could be slain with a single blow. Most likely, all three incarnations had to be destroyed simultaneously to eliminate it completely.

“This is an utter disaster. How could the imperial court and the Taoist temple have made such a grave misjudgment? A demon of this level appearing here cannot possibly be handled by ordinary outer sect disciples,” Ning Cheng complained internally. But grumbling was useless; the three-bodied demon monks advanced in perfect unison, each extending a large, fan-like hand toward him.

“This staff is peculiar. Let me take a closer look and see what makes it so strange!” The demon monks smiled like the Maitreya Buddha, their fan-like hands grasping three shadows of the staff.

“Damn!” Ning Cheng, who had mastered the 'Lesser Yang Heaven-and-Earth Staff Technique', knew exactly which shadow was the true staff formed from the Yellow Springs Sword. The demon monks’ hands reached for the past, present, and future shadows of the staff—three key illusions among hundreds—which were the crux of countering his technique. If those three were seized, all variations of the staff technique would be nullified before they could manifest.

Just as Ning Cheng tensed, the three demon monks let out synchronized, agonized screams. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” On closer inspection, their fan-like hands had been pierced by the three shadows of the staff, dissolving into gaping holes in their palms. Soon, the hands, pierced by the staff shadows, were reduced to bare, white bone.

“This staff is actually a Nether Weapon! You venomous, cunning young master possess a Nether Weapon!”

“This is impossible! Nether Weapons all belong to the Underworld—how could one find its way into the mortal realm?”

“In that case, I’ll have to let you off for today. We’ll settle accounts another time!” Even as they spoke, the demon monks’ entire arms swiftly dissolved, becoming skeletal claws. Enduring the pain, they withdrew their bone claws from the staff formed by the Yellow Springs Sword and turned to flee.

Ning Cheng’s mind raced. Realizing the situation had dramatically shifted, he seized the moment when the demon monks turned and switched his technique from defense to offense. The 'Lesser Yang Staff Technique', specializing in attack, proved invaluable now. The seemingly ordinary blow he struck extended half a meter beyond the staff’s tip in a blade of force, piercing directly through the left chest of one of the demon monks’ bodies.

Seizing the opportunity, Ning Cheng twisted the staff, successfully detaining one incarnation of the demon. As the other two bodies fled hastily into the gray mist, escaping the range of Ning Cheng’s staff technique and disappearing into the distance, he finally relaxed, collapsing to the ground in exhaustion.

After the fierce battle, Ning Cheng was nearly drained of strength and spirit. Had the demon monks persisted even a little longer, he would have been the one to fall. “Whew, whew, whew—how perilous!” He shuddered, grateful he had not foolishly pursued the fleeing demon monks.

After resting a while, Ning Cheng gathered the energy to examine the demon monk’s fallen body. The once plump monk had now become a ghastly white skeleton, still emitting threads of chilling aura. “It seems the flesh was all dead matter, unable to withstand the blows of my Nether Weapon, the Yellow Springs Sword. The bones, however, are genuine—true white bone. But where did such a large skeleton come from?”

He surveyed the ruins of the monastery, finding no place where a monk’s remains could have been hidden. He had already searched every building that could conceal anything; the likelihood of the skeleton being hidden in any of them was slim.

The origin of this monk’s bones was questionable. Yet something even more suspicious caught his eye: lying at the heart of the skeleton, where its heart would be, was a gray relic the size of a finger joint.