Chapter 196 — Merit

The cold wind blew ever more fiercely, whipping at the clothes of Ming Li and Jin Pingyue until they cracked like banners. They stood at the mouth of the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression, watching as the enormous, hideous shape of the vengeful spirit gradually took form before them.

Eyes the size of bronze bells snapped open within the white mist, faint crimson light seeping from their depths. The monstrous silhouette of the vengeful spirit loomed over them, and its gaze fell upon the two mortals standing beneath it.

"Who dares come to this place?"

The voice of the vengeful spirit rang out abruptly, deep and ear-shattering, as though the very mountain walls around them trembled at the sound. Yet a moment later the spirit seemed to notice something; it paused, and its gaze shifted to Jin Pingyue, who stood slightly behind Ming Li: "You again?"

Jin Pingyue smiled faintly, alluring beyond measure, and said, "Yes, it's me. We meet again."

The vengeful spirit let out an angry howl that echoed far into the distance, as though his cry reverberated even deep within the dark cavern behind him: "Why have you come back to this place? Was disturbing the Goddess's sacred image last time not enough for you?"

Jin Pingyue was turning over in her mind how to deal with this vengeful spirit; from what she had seen that day, this guardian of the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression was certainly no easy opponent. Such were her private calculations, yet her expression remained a smile. She was just about to speak when Ming Li, at her side, suddenly said, "Are you the Black Tiger, one of the seven heroes of the southern borderlands who followed the Sorceress Linglong deep into the Ten Thousand Wild Mountains in those days?"

Jin Pingyue was startled and turned to look at Ming Li, only to see his face blank and indifferent, his eyes fixed on the spirit's gigantic form. Almost at the very moment Ming Li spoke, the vengeful spirit too could not help but freeze, as though the name "Black Tiger" had struck some deep place in his heart like a heavy blow.

Even transformed into a vengeful ghost, even abandoned by the world, even after a thousand thousand years of lonely vigil—there were still, in the end, some memories buried deep within the heart.

"Who are you?" The spirit's deep voice seemed suddenly to have gone hoarse, utterly changed from the manner of his first appearance.

Ming Li gazed at the figure wreathed in grim ghostly aura, a complicated, unreadable light flickering in his eyes, and said slowly, "Of the seven who followed the Sorceress Linglong in those days, five returned in the end and afterward founded the five tribes of the southern borderlands that exist today. The remaining two were the two brothers who had followed her longest—Black Tiger and Black Wood—and they did not return. The old legends of the sorcerer tribe say that the elder brother, Black Tiger, was loyal and brave, and the younger, Black Wood, enduring and steadfast. I see that you revere this sacred image with uncommon devotion, and that you have held fast for a thousand thousand years, becoming a vengeful spirit without regret. So I guessed that you are Black Tiger. Am I right?"

The vengeful spirit was silent for a long while, his gaze fixed on Ming Li, and Ming Li, beneath that fierce stare, showed not the slightest fear, meeting his eyes straight on. Gradually the pale, ghostly aura around the spirit began to stir, and the crimson in his eyes grew deeper and deeper, until even the entrance of the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression, already pierced with a bone-chilling cold, seemed to grow colder still.

The monkey Xiao Hui, perched on Ming Li's shoulder, seemed uneasy as well and gave two low cries.

"Who exactly are you, that you can know the bygone affairs of the sorcerer tribe?" The spirit's voice, previously angry, seemed suddenly to change, its tone indescribably cold.

Ming Li, however, seemed to feel nothing at all. He merely looked at the vast shadow and said, "Most people in this world cannot remember things from so long ago. But in the end there are still legends, passed down bit by bit." He gazed at the vengeful spirit and said, word by word, "In the southern borderlands of today, among the descendants of the sorcerer tribe, there are still those who remember you!"

The vengeful spirit closed his eyes and did not open them for a long time.

Jin Pingyue stood behind, her brows knitting slightly. She looked at the spirit, then at Ming Li beside her. Of these so-called legends—the ancient sorcerer tribe, the sacred image of Linglong—she knew nothing at all, but from the spirit's reaction it was clear that what Ming Li said was indeed the truth. All along she had believed that no one in the demon cult knew more than she did of the strange matters of the Ten Thousand Wild Mountains, yet it seemed this Ming Li still harbored secrets unknown to others.

She gazed at the man's silhouette, a faint chill rising in her heart, and her eyes seemed to grow colder still.

For a long time the cold wind kept blowing. Above their heads black clouds churned in silence; the bleak wind moaned, and all was a scene of desolation.

In that silence, the vengeful spirit Black Tiger suddenly raised his head and howled at the sky, a mournful cry, as though countless vicissitudes of years were poured into that single howl. While the cry still echoed faintly among the distant mountains, he turned back, and his rumbling voice seemed to surge with emotion, though in the end he pressed it down.

"My thanks!"

The vengeful spirit gazed at Ming Li for a long while, then suddenly bowed his head slightly and spoke thus.

Ming Li's face was without expression. He slowly drew back half a step, closed his eyes, and inclined his body slightly—a return of courtesy.

The spirit nodded, his tone gradually calming, and said, "I never thought there would still be someone in this world who remembered the Goddess and us. Heh—but when we followed the Sorceress deep into these Ten Thousand Wild Mountains, what thought did we ever give to leaving a name for the ages?"

His gaze slowly shifted to the mouth of the Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression, to the sacred image of the Sorceress Linglong standing there, and in an instant his eyes grew gentle, and even his voice seemed much softer: "But you have come here, and surely it was not for the sole purpose of speaking a few words to a thing like me, who is neither man nor ghost?"

Ming Li was silent a moment, then said, "No. Before I came, I had heard legends of the Sorceress Linglong and the seven of you, but I did not know your present circumstances, nor that you would be here." He raised his head, looked at the spirit, and said slowly, "I have come for the Beast Sovereign within this cave."

The gigantic shadow shuddered—even this vengeful spirit seemed to feel dread at that name.

Yet the spirit's gaze did not turn toward them; it remained upon the sacred image. "What do you want with him?"

Ming Li said flatly, "We mean to find him, and then kill him."

The vengeful spirit abruptly turned his head and stared at Ming Li. "The two of you alone?"

Ming Li nodded slowly. "Yes."

The white ghostly aura around the spirit seemed suddenly to swirl faster, and his form blurred. After a long moment he said coldly, "You are right. The Beast Sovereign is indeed within this Ancient Cave of Demon Suppression."

Jin Pingyue's body trembled, and a flicker of delight passed unbidden across her face. Ming Li showed little joy; he was still watching the vengeful spirit.

The spirit was watching him too, and suddenly said, "From your dress and bearing, you are no native of the southern borderlands. You come from the Central Plains, do you not?"

Ming Li nodded. "I do."

The spirit pondered a moment; within the grim ghostly aura his expression seemed to shift uncertainly. "Do you know why I guard the mouth of this cave?"

Ming Li said, "I do not."