Chapter Twenty: Alone in a Lonely Fortress

The blow from the black-armored giant was truly extraordinary, far more powerful than what had been unleashed upon the altar moments ago. The eight-sided hammer whipped up gusts of wind that sliced like knives across Liu Chen’s body; though he remained unharmed, his clothing was shredded to tatters.

This sight sent a shock through Liu Chen’s heart. If the mere wind from the hammer could do this, what would happen if he were actually struck? Yet now, the black aura emanating from the ghostly deity surged ever more violently, as though a mire clung to Liu Chen and dragged him down.

In this moment of peril, Liu Chen’s mind became clear and empty. Suddenly, he recalled a move from the middle six forms of the Eighteen Ways to Defeat the Enemy: “Standing Alone in a Perilous City.”

This move was peculiar among the forms, for its creator’s name had been lost to history. According to the Daoist’s explanation, “Standing Alone in a Perilous City” referred to an event at the end of the Da Li dynasty, when the Central Plains were divided and the emperor’s authority ignored, leading to the northern barbarians’ invasion. People trembled in fear, save for a single county constable who, despite all warnings, led fifty men in a desperate defense, refusing to retreat.

The Daoist had not detailed the constable’s fate but told Liu Chen that to perform this move was to remain composed in danger, to face the enemy with courage, and, upon mastery, to harbor a perpetual fearlessness—so much so that even ghosts and gods would yield.

Liu Chen could not yet wield the fearless punch that would make spirits flee, but in his empty-hearted state, calm amidst crisis came naturally. Without further thought, Liu Chen executed “Standing Alone in a Perilous City.”

Technically, this move was a “guard,” a defensive stance in boxing. Under normal circumstances, Liu Chen would have weighed whether it could withstand the giant’s hammer, what injuries might follow, and whether those injuries would affect the battle. Yet in his clarity, he understood there was no other choice; all he needed was to act, and the rest would follow.

With this single-minded resolve, Liu Chen felt he finally understood the essence of courage: a state of mind that recognized fear but did not shrink from it, that saw difficulty but did not avoid it. Yet now, with his mind empty, he felt no fear or cowardice, and so courage was not even a question.

Even so, this move produced astonishing results.

It was not that Liu Chen summoned some divine power to block the hammer; rather, the spirit of the move allowed him, for the first time, to grasp the two spiritual flames within himself and channel them into his arms.

Thus, before the hammer could strike him, it was ignited by the underworld spiritual flame, drawn forth by his boxing intent.

If before, the spiritual flame wielded instinctively could easily subdue techniques that summoned ghosts, like the Five Great Divine Talismans—just as fire suppresses cotton or silk—then the giant, infused with ghostly power, was little more than wood, able to withstand the flame for a moment.

But the spiritual flame, empowered by Liu Chen’s boxing intent, was entirely different; it burned like a furnace with bellows, fierce and hot. Not just wood—iron and gold would melt before it.

So, under Lu Changcheng’s incredulous gaze, the black-armored giant, infused with ghostly power, burned like a torch, unable to strike Liu Chen. The talismans, unable to contain the vast ghostly power, combusted as well. Beset by fire both within and without, the giant lasted less than a breath before vanishing completely.

Liu Chen seized the moment, wrapped in the residual fire from the burned spirit, and turned to strike the black banner with his palm.

Faced with this forceful blow, the ghost behind the banner tried to resist, gathering all its black aura within an inch above and below the banner, forming a barrier as dark as ink.

The black aura within the barrier was like a pool of shadow, its texture almost visible. When Liu Chen’s palm struck, waves of chilling cold invaded his body; even his zombie form could not entirely ignore such cold.

But no matter how the ghost struggled, without the support of the great Heaven Net formation, its power was mere aura—not true force. Though potent, without a foundation it could not even stir a strand of hair.

The only thing it could do was to intimidate Liu Chen with this chilling presence, hoping he would stop.

Yet, with his boxing intent ablaze, how could Liu Chen be deterred by such sensations?

He would not. Thus, his palm struck solidly upon the long shaft of the banner, and the spiritual flame swiftly ignited the ghostly power lingering in that section.

A sharp crack echoed.

Once the shaft was severed, the banner revealed no hidden wonders; it fell upon the altar like any ordinary object. Liu Chen, not yet satisfied, stepped forward, pressed his foot upon its fabric, bent down, and tore at it with all his strength.

A harsh ripping sound followed.

It was unclear how this banner had been fashioned, but its material was superb—even with Liu Chen’s current strength, he could not tear it apart at once. After opening a small gash, he used all his force again, finally ripping it completely.

“You fool! This is the Sacred Banner of the Primordial Cave Great Sage! Are you not afraid of divine retribution for destroying it?” Lu Changcheng, seeing Liu Chen’s relentless destruction, forgot his grief for the fallen giant and pointed at Liu Chen, shouting in shock and fury.

On the other side, the ghost known as the Primordial Cave Great Sage seemed to respond to Lu Changcheng’s words. The black aura not yet touched by the flames quickly dispersed, coalescing in the mist above to form a giant, roaring face.

With the appearance of this furious visage, a heavy pressure descended upon Liu Chen’s heart, knocking him out of his state of clarity.

“Hm?”

Deprived of his empty-minded state, countless distracting thoughts surged forth. Liu Chen, used to thoughtless calm, felt a sudden chaos within—ideas overlapping, even a notion to kneel and beg forgiveness.

The moment such thoughts arose, Liu Chen shuddered and regained his composure. Adjusting his mood, he looked up at the black face; the two underworld flames in his eyes, rekindled by his return to ordinary consciousness, burned fiercely.

The angry face, caught in Liu Chen’s gaze, vanished completely within the underworld flame. With the banner broken, the altar lost its supernatural power, and the mist that formed the foundation of the Heaven Net formation quickly dissipated.

After this, the ghost, lacking any foundation, could do nothing more, leaving only a furious roar echoing in Liu Chen’s mind.