Chapter Forty-Six: Execution!

The enveloping mist could no longer hold itself together and dispersed in all directions. In an instant, a thick fog rose over the area near the Blackwater Pond. Soon after, Wang Yong led a group of county constables charging forward, dumping all manner of filth and dog’s blood into the pond without hesitation.

In these times, nature worship was still flourishing. The Blackwater Shrine had no temple; what was worshipped was the Blackwater Pond itself. The so-called deity of the Blackwater Shrine was nothing more than the embodiment of that pond. So, though it was called destruction, Wang Zhenling could not simply blast the pond away.

But now, as the filth was thrown in, the effect was immediate and tremendous. The Blackwater deity, having just been nearly clubbed senseless by Wang Zhenling, was still reeling. Countless impurities poured into the depths of the pond, and in an instant, the spiritual arena formed by the pond’s aura began to tremble and shudder.

The filth transformed into dark wisps that twisted into the sanctum. Wherever they reached, the once-beautiful structures were quickly covered in cobwebs; the steps and glazed tiles sprouted withering grasses. Decay swept through every building.

Within the sanctum, the women who served the Blackwater deity, along with various ghostly soldiers, were thrown into utter panic, fleeing in all directions. Especially as the black vapors settled and became serpents of varying sizes, slithering up beams and pillars, even chasing and biting at people.

The entire sanctum was now in ruins.

“How dare that brat Wang Zhenling do this to me! The nerve!” the Blackwater deity shouted, eyes blazing with fury. But the next moment, he spat a mouthful of blood. As it hit the ground, it turned into countless vermin, scattering in all directions.

Witnessing this, the Blackwater deity was both furious and alarmed—fear outweighed his anger, for he knew ill omens when he saw them.

Even spirits and ghosts have a lifespan, which usually ends when they can no longer suppress the accumulated malice within them. Now, coughing blood that turned to vermin was a clear sign; how could he not be terrified?

Looking around, he saw his entire sanctum falling into decay: cobwebs everywhere, wild grass sprouting in the courtyards, poisonous snakes slithering madly. These were all signs of the malice’s eruption, and his fear reached its peak.

“That Wang Zhenling is truly ruthless—he means to destroy me! Does he not know my connection with the City God? How dares he act so brazenly?”

Indeed, all these changes in the sanctum were caused by the filth Wang Zhenling had ordered dumped into the pond. Normally, the effect would not have been so devastating, but this time, Wang Zhenling was acting on behalf of the authorities.

With official authority, he could suppress the spiritual veins and fate of the place, unleashing the full force of the impurities. Moreover, every spirit and ghost, though they draw on the earth’s aura, must also contend with the natural impure energies of the land. They also cultivate through the power of incense and prayer—though incense power is great, if a deity receives it but cannot fulfill the people’s wishes, resentment accumulates as well.

For spirits, whether it is the impurities of the earth, malice, or resentment from incense, they are usually few and can be purified. But as years go by, the accumulation grows, and once it erupts, it spells doom for the spirit.

This is why, in theory, spirits may live for thousands of years, but in reality, most perish after only three or five centuries.

Now, Wang Zhenling was using filth to trigger an early eruption of the Blackwater Pond’s malice.

Sensing the grave danger, the Blackwater deity finally regained his composure. Reluctantly, he had no choice but to act. With a heavy heart, he spat out a golden pearl from his mouth, suspending it within his sanctum. Streams of light radiated from it, and everywhere the light touched, the poisonous snakes melted away like snow in the sun. The decaying buildings, cobwebs, and wild grasses all vanished, and the sanctum was restored to its pristine state.

The golden pearl suppressed all the malice that was about to erupt.

Its light spread in waves, quickly cleansing a third of the sanctum. But just then, a blade flashed from behind, striking the Blackwater deity with a grievous wound.

“It’s you…” the deity snarled, gritting his teeth.

He saw Wang Zhenling standing behind him, bathed in a pale white glow, sword in hand. It was clear that Wang Zhenling was not present in the flesh, but as a spirit.

“As an official of the court, you dare practice Daoist arts and leave your body… I see now, you want to steal my spiritual vein!” the Blackwater deity finally understood why Wang Zhenling had targeted him.

Wang Zhenling sneered, “It’s a bit late for you to realize that now.”

A wise man avoids danger—originally, Wang Zhenling had not planned to take action himself. But when the Blackwater deity produced the golden pearl and was about to suppress the malice, Wang Zhenling’s efforts would have been wasted. How could he tolerate that?

So, despite the peril, Wang Zhenling had no choice but to act personally.

Once again, he unleashed the Taiyin Demon-Slaying Sword, slashing at the Blackwater deity. The deity screamed in agony, retreating again and again. But with a breath, he sent the golden pearl spinning forward, forming a divine barrier before him. No matter how fiercely Wang Zhenling struck with his sword, he could not break through.

This made Wang Zhenling anxious. He did not know the golden pearl was a gift from the City God, a vessel of divine power. Still, he could sense its immense energy and knew it would not be easily overcome.

He sighed inwardly—his own power was still too weak, and the Taiyin Demon-Slaying Sword was not even at the basic stage. Had it been, the earlier sneak attack would have been fatal for the Blackwater deity.

Wang Zhenling shouted coldly, “You think you’re the only one with treasures?”

He paused, and a beam of red and white light burst forth from the official’s seal, enveloping him. At once, his form swelled, and the Taiyin Demon-Slaying Sword, forged from the essence of the moon, shone tenfold brighter, as if cloaked in fire.

With a single stroke, he shattered the golden pearl and brought the sword down upon the Blackwater deity’s head.

The deity let out a terrible scream as flames erupted from his head and consumed him in an instant.

At that moment, all the black vapors from every direction surged toward the burning Blackwater deity. These were the malice and impurities he was meant to bear, now unchecked without the pearl’s suppression, and they poured back into him.

Wang Zhenling leapt far away, watching as the flames spread, setting each building in the sanctum ablaze.

He knew that with this great fire, all the old malice and every last trace of the shrine’s deity would be burned away, leaving behind only a pure and immaculate Blackwater Pond.