After Transmigrating into a Book as Cannon Fodder, I Pampered the Villain - Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Becoming a Ghost

She ate the evil ghost.

In the Southern Territory of the cultivation world, the place once known as the “Forest of Death” was now shrouded in a black mist that blocked all divine sense.

This anomaly attracted widespread attention. Many cultivators lingered at the edge, testing the boundaries, but the sheer pressure radiating from the mist kept them from venturing deep.

The three major families, however, had no choice. Their patriarchs and elite elders were trapped inside. If they weren’t rescued, the families would be utterly crippled, and their rivals already circling like vultures would tear them apart.

“Old Zhao, we’ve been friends for years. Once you’re in, keep me posted on the situation,” a man said, tugging at the sleeve of the Zhao family leader.

The Zhao leader, already on edge, wrenched his sleeve away and glared. “If you want to know, go in yourself!” With a grim silence, the rescue team stepped into the mist.

They expected a struggle, but they passed through without resistance. As they sighed in relief, the mist suddenly vanished.

They thought they were prepared for the worst, but the scene before them was soul-shaking.

The Forest of Death was gone. In its place was a cracked wasteland where Karmic Fire flickered in the fissures. The air stank of charred flesh. The sky was a bruised crimson, devoid of sun or moon. A spectral river spanned the horizon, filled with wailing souls clawing at a shore they could never reach.

“Hell…” someone whispered.

“Careful! Something is coming!”

The sound of chains dragging across the stone echoed nearby. A primal sense of dread spiked in their minds. Without hesitation, the group turned and fled in the opposite direction. One cultivator noticed a slight movement in the dry grass but didn’t dare stop to check.

In the withered grass, the rustling stopped. As the dragging chains grew closer, a dark figure cloaked in a tattered robe slowly emerged, leading a procession of vengeful spirits. It moved with a jerky, unnatural speed, appearing near the grass in a heartbeat.

It radiated the aura of a death god reaping souls. It paused where the group of humans had just been, scanning the area. It searched the grass for any trace of life but found nothing. After a moment of hollow silence, it continued on its path, dragging its captives behind it.

As it walked, it muttered a dry, raspy phrase over and over: “Find her… find her…”

Only when the reaper had vanished over the ridge did the grass move again. A small, round, ball-shaped soul popped out from beneath the dirt.

“Phew… that was close.”

The “soul-blob” let out a long breath. Seeing that the coast was clear, she floated back to her hiding spot—a tiny, inconspicuous crack behind the hill. For a human, it was too small; for a blob, it was perfect.

This adorable, slime-like soul was Yu Yingxia. She assumed she was dead, which explained why she was a ghost in what looked like the Underworld.

The environment was terrifying Hell-rivers, soul-reapers, and endless gloom. She didn’t dare wander. She had survived so far thanks to the Soul-Detachment Survival Art from Yan Qingxu’s manual. Though her physical body was likely shredded in the spatial collapse, the spell kept her soul hidden.

She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious. Her state upon waking had been dire. Before the collapse, the evil ghost (Yan Zheng) had tried to devour her, but she had bitten back out of pure spite. If I let him go, Yan Huaixi is in danger. Driven by that obsession, she had literally eaten the ghost.

Thinking about it now made her feel nauseous. Yan Qingxu’s power had helped her suppress and eventually digest the clashing energies of the immortal and the demon. Now, she controlled both, feeling significantly stronger though she wasn’t sure if she could take on the reapers outside.

“How am I supposed to get out of here?” she sighed.

In the original owner’s memories, Hell was a myth. The only thing she knew was that Yan Huaixi had the power to communicate with the Underworld. Will she come to fish me out since I saved her life? If not, I guess I’ll just have to cultivate the Ghost Path until I’m strong enough to break out myself.

Rain began to fall a grey, oily liquid. Yu Yingxia raised a small barrier to stay dry.

Sitting alone in the dark, loneliness began to seep into her. She had always thought she was good at being alone, but the desolate sound of the rain was pulling her mood into the gutter. She reflected on her two lives: her first life was mundane and limited by illness; her second was a chaotic mess of being hunted by corpses, framed by enemies, and trying not to be turned into a “firework” by her housemate.

And now, her new body was gone. She remembered Yan Zheng’s last words: “Spatial turbulence!” Even grandmasters couldn’t survive that easily.

“What a tragedy,” she muttered to herself. “But hey, maybe my luck is turning. Surviving with an intact soul is a win.”

Despite her self-encouragement, she found herself missing that person. Even if Yan Huaixi was sometimes a temperamental cat that hissed and scratched, Yu Yingxia wished she were here to talk to.

The “slime-blob” slumped dejectedly at the cave entrance.

CRASH!

A massive explosion shook the mountain. Yu Yingxia went rolling back into the cave as rubble rained down. She instinctively manifested a pair of hands to cover her head, only for the stones to pass right through her.

Right. I’m a ghost. No physical body, no being crushed by rocks.

She retracted her mimicked hands. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look human, but Yan Qingxu’s “Survival Art” forced her soul into this blobby shape to mask her presence. She suspected Yan Qingxu had a warped sense of humor and planned to “fix” the side effects of the manual later.

She floated back to the entrance to peek out. Two flashes of cold light streaked past, and she curled into a ball.

The mountain she was hiding in had been sliced nearly in half. Several strange figures stood nearby, facing off against the soul-reaper from earlier. One side was a group of vengeful spirits, the other the reapers.

The spirits held the upper hand. As the reaper retreated, the spirits began to whisper. Yu Yingxia caught fragments: “Master,” “Can’t find her,” “Kill.”

Their aura felt uncomfortably similar to Yan Zheng’s. Did his lackeys die and end up here too? Talk about bad luck!

And who are they planning to “kill”? Me?

She hid as deep as she could, hoping they would leave. But the retreated reaper was vengeful; moments later, he returned with two companions. Three reapers now faced off against the group of spirits, turning her “front yard” into a battlefield.

Yu Yingxia: …Maybe it’s time to move. If these ghosts start fighting, my temporary home is definitely going to collapse.

Support