Chapter 19: Is This Your Army of the Dead?

This small building was not large.
Haiyue herself was not large, either.
At this moment, in the narrow corridor between the third and fourth floors, over a dozen drifting souls were tightly blocking the way.
“Your undead army?” Qin Ye raised an eyebrow.
“…How could that be… My forces are all in Northrend… Wait, why am I answering such a foolish question?”
Qin Ye thought Arthas had changed.
He almost wanted to ask, who had turned a former provincial-level official into this pitiful state? Where was the promised aloof nobility?
“These are tiger thralls,” Arthas said, somewhat puzzled. “Strange... Have you heard the phrase ‘to serve as a tiger’s pawn’?”
“That refers to these spirits. According to legend, an old tiger would turn those it devoured into ghosts, who would then lure other travelers to the tiger’s den. How could such things appear here?”
Qin Ye frowned. “That’s not the point… The point is, how strong are they?”
“Weak. Almost no offensive abilities. At best, they can create illusions.”
Before the words were even finished, Qin Ye shot forward like an arrow.
Arthas, inside the Soul-Sealing Orb, curled his lip. He didn’t understand—just moments ago, despite holding the saber’s hilt, Qin Ye hadn’t acted, but upon hearing there were no offensive abilities, he charged out like a wild horse breaking from its reins. What kind of person was this…
Swish—the blade flashed, green flames flared along the ghost-head saber, and soul after soul was drawn into it. Wherever the blade passed, the tiger thralls melted away like snow under spring sunshine. Waves of dissipating yin energy surged toward him, but with a low shout and another arc of gleaming blade, the darkness shattered and scattered.
As an official envoy of the Underworld, with formal rank, he was naturally a bane to these weak, wandering ghosts.
With a rustle, the passage between the third and fourth floors opened. He rushed up immediately.
At the entrance to the fourth floor, the place looked as if a typhoon had swept through. It seemed someone had been searching for something; desks were overturned, computer equipment was strewn about, and all the lights were off.
The moment Qin Ye set foot on the fourth floor, all the doors and windows slammed shut at once.
Boom!!
A flash of lightning lit up the room in pale blue and white. Qin Ye rested his hand on the saber’s hilt, unmoving. He could sense it—on this floor, there was a presence utterly different from the tiger thralls.
Much more powerful.
Perhaps not as strong as himself, but certainly enough to warrant caution.
This was the true body behind that fateful, tragic night!
“So soon?” He moved his lips slightly, eyes vigilant.
Arthas was also puzzled. “Actually, it’s not that strange. She’s only had the Seal of Yama for a few days, not yet truly powerful. At her level, how many tricks can she have? But… she managed to abduct Hammer in broad daylight; there must be more to her. There was no need to show her true form so early.”
Drip… At that moment, Qin Ye felt a chill on his neck—blood.
Cold blood.
Right above his head.
“Uhh… uhh uhh uhh…” An eerie, mechanical, staccato sound came from the ceiling. The wind rose from nowhere in the sealed room, and Qin Ye’s envoy uniform fluttered wildly. At the same time, he slashed upward, his spectral saber tracing a dazzling arc in midair.
Thud!!
With a dull noise, Qin Ye leapt back two meters. A flash of lightning revealed the ferocious ghost on the ceiling.
“This is…” Even prepared as he was, he couldn’t help but gasp.

Arthas was equally shocked, finally speaking with a sigh, “So that’s it… I understand now…”
It was not human at all.
Any ghost usually retains its human form after death, but this one did not.
She was still a vague, ethereal spirit with deathly pale features, not a hint of color in her face. Long hair hid her blood-red eyes, and her gaping mouth was full of fangs—entirely black.
She wore a black dress, her body twisted beyond human limits, and beneath the dress… was the hindquarters of a tiger.
Moreover, her body was riddled with holes the size of fingers—dark, gaping wounds as if she’d been subjected to the ancient torture of the “Iron Maiden,” her form full of a thousand wounds, horrifying to behold!
“Uhh… uhh uhh uhh…” The tiger’s hind legs clung tightly to the ceiling. The attack just now hadn’t been from her hands but from the ghostly tiger’s tail. Her hands held a metal safe, about a foot square.
“Little one, things may not be as you think,” Arthas’s voice was distant. “I’ve seen this form before.”
“Half-human, half-tiger, trailed by tiger thralls—this is… ‘three men make a tiger’ incarnate.”
“The holes in her body… She must have suffered the condemnation of the masses in life, each accusation another wound. Even in death, they cannot fade. The voice you heard on the phone was probably that of a tiger thrall, luring others here.”
“Such a form can only be born of great, unredressed injustice. Only then would the spirit become like this. President Wang… even dared to play tricks when summoned? Impressive…”
A wrongful death?
Qin Ye glanced at the vengeful spirit on the ceiling, surprised. In this moment, he recalled the posts he’d read before—after the verdict was delivered, the online fury against that tragic case was terrifying.
It was overwhelming.
Those who felt cheated berated Haiyue viciously, and after the truth came out, the attacks only doubled. Such bitter curses… those tidal waves of insults and threats… had etched countless wounds into her?
But… this old case from five years ago—was there more to it?
“Uhh… uhh uhh uhh…” The red eyes stared at him relentlessly. Qin Ye steadied his breath and said solemnly, “Whether you died unjustly or not, you’ve killed.”
“Without rules, nothing can be accomplished. Since you’ve taken lives, you must face judgment. Come with me quietly, and you can avoid suffering. Do you understand?”
“Roar!!” With a tiger’s roar, the vengeful ghost leapt down at him.
Fast.
Incredibly fast.
So fast Qin Ye had no time to dodge—the attack was already upon him.
“Courting death!” There was no way to evade, and no need. With a fierce shout, his ghost-head saber vibrated violently, his clothes billowing as veins bulged on his gripping hand.
Boom!! Yin energy from all directions surged toward him, forming a vortex several meters wide at his feet. As the spirit roared and lunged, Qin Ye drew his blade.
Slowly.
So slowly it seemed he hadn’t moved at all.
But in truth, it was too fast for the eye to follow, as if motionless.
Swish… Time seemed to freeze. The spirit’s hair and dress flared up, then dropped. Her red eyes still stared at Qin Ye, but then—a sound of a blade returning to its sheath.
Clang.
“Did you know…” Qin Ye panted, his face pale. “The Underworld’s formal weapons are nothing like you wild ghosts…”

“Envoy robes, the severance blade—each is a treasure of the Underworld… each bears a power that can destroy a ghost of equal rank in an instant. Ah… just like human police are issued with guns. Does that make sense to you?”
“I prefer to call this blade ‘Soul Severer.’ The move I just used is formally called ‘Ghost Severance,’ but I named it ‘Crescent Moon Strike.’ Sadly, I can only use it once a day…”
The tiger’s claw, formed from condensed yin energy, stopped just ten centimeters in front of him and could go no further.
The vengeful spirit froze like a statue, then began to tremble. With a rustle, her spectral form seemed swept away by a violent wind, dissolving into points of blue light that floated away. The safe in her arms dropped to the floor with a thud—the door sprang open.
Crash!!
As the spirit dissipated, all the glass around the floor exploded outward! A fine ring of blade scars, a full three hundred and sixty degrees, appeared around the walls with Qin Ye at the center.
“I’m not one for taking risks,” Qin Ye let out a long breath. The envoy badge at his chest flew out, and a bold, flowing line of words appeared on it:
“Vengeful spirit exorcised; full merit of twenty points awarded.”
“One hundred and eighty points needed to reach the Soul Capture rank.”
So that’s what merit is… Qin Ye glanced at it, about to look away—then paused, staring at the badge.
No…
Something was wrong!
“Exorcised?” Arthas caught it too, his voice grave. “This isn’t right… The Underworld is strict on rank and the recording of merit. Orders from above and below are even more rigorously enforced than in the world of the living—after all, there are only a few billion people alive, but the Underworld has had countless souls since the beginning of time.”
“So, ‘slaying’ and ‘exorcising’ are two distinct terms. They would never be confused.”
She mused, “Slaying means the evil spirit refused to repent and had to be destroyed by official action to prevent further harm. Exorcism, however, means the spirit willingly accepts redemption, and its last wish is fulfilled—leaving no hidden threat. The merit awarded is much greater.”
Qin Ye nodded—like the difference between surrendering and being captured.
If captured, a criminal might seek revenge, but if he surrenders, leniency follows.
Yet in his case… he had slain the vengeful spirit, so why did it count as exorcism?
And this spirit had shown him nothing but hostility—why was it so easily dispatched?
After a long deliberation, he finally spoke slowly, “You once said, resolving a spirit’s heart’s knot is the real exorcism; that’s the key to any ghost’s redemption.”
Before his words even faded, both their gazes turned to the safe.
It was an ordinary safe. Its door had been split open by his blade. But what was unusual were the scratches all over its surface.
Not animal marks.
They were slender… the marks of a woman’s claws, gouged into the metal through sheer desperation.
“The only difference just now was that I split open this safe. In other words… her heart’s knot must have been opening this box. There’s something vitally important inside. Even after death, she never stopped trying… but in the end, she failed.”
“Inside here lies her final obsession.”

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PS: After this arc concludes, there’ll be only one update per day for a while, as you all know—new releases need to coordinate with recommendations. I’ll stick to my usual 3,000 words per update, and after the next arc, I’ll return to two updates daily to go with the featured slot. Thanks for your understanding!