Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 705: Fighting The Evil Mountain Spirit
The air itself froze.
Snow stopped falling and simply hung in place.
The spirit’s mist form began to stiffen, its red fog turning dull and sluggish.
But then it laughed.
It screamed with mockery.
"Too slow!"
Its body suddenly compressed, blood mist twisting and hardening into a long, blood colored chisel. With a piercing shriek, it shot forward like a spear, tearing straight through the chest of the Boreas illusion.
KACHA
The ice giant cracked and shattered.
Madam Cold Fang was directly behind it.
She could not see the chisel coming in time.
Han Yu saw it.
"Careful!" he shouted, but he knew it was already too late.
Without thinking, he formed a long whip of flame using the Dancing Flame Art. The whip tore through the air and wrapped around Madam Cold Fang’s leg.
He pulled with everything he had.
She shifted only a few inches, but that was enough.
The blood chisel passed through empty space where her body had just been.
The heat of Han Yu’s flames brushed against her robes, but her cold Qi instantly neutralized it.
She steadied herself, her eyes narrowing.
For the first time, she looked at Han Yu.
Her gaze was sharp, measuring.
"You move recklessly," she said.
"You almost died," Han Yu replied.
She did not thank him.
But she did not scold him either.
The Evil Mountain Spirit roared in frustration.
"It does not matter! I am tired of you both! I am hungry!"
It suddenly changed direction, rushing toward Han Yu instead of Madam Cold Fang.
Han Yu’s heart clenched.
"You damn coward!" he cursed. "Picking on the weaker, younger one! This is child abuse!"
The spirit laughed wildly as it chased him, forcing Han Yu into desperate evasive maneuvers.
"Child abuse? I’ve eaten plenty of children. One more is nothing." It mocked. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖
Madam Cold Fang attacked from behind, but the spirit avoided her blows with inhuman precision, always making sure to keep Han Yu between them when possible.
"Your body is annoying," she snapped at the spirit. "If you still had flesh, you would have died long ago."
"And yet I still live," the spirit hissed. "And you cannot send me to the afterlife."
Hearing that, a thought struck Han Yu.
A dangerous one.
"Wait... a ghost... That means it is still a soul," he muttered.
His eyes sharpened.
Soul.
He had faced souls before.
He had devoured soul Qi.
He had seen souls break and dissolve.
He shouted to Madam Cold Fang, "Try to block it for a few seconds. Just a few. I will try something."
She glanced at him sharply. "If you fail, you die."
Han Yu gave a bitter smile. "That was already the case."
Madam Cold Fang turned back to the spirit, her Qi flaring violently.
She unleashed a barrage of ice techniques, forcing the spirit to slow down and focus on her.
Han Yu pulled back, hovering at a distance, his mind racing.
"A ghost is a soul bound by resentment, obsession, or some anchor," he thought. "If I can touch it with soul techniques..."
He did not know if this would work.
But he knew one thing.
If he did nothing, he would die anyway.
So he closed his eyes for a brief instant and turned inward, toward the vast, surging sea of Soul Qi within him, and toward the Eight Emotions Lotus that pulsed like a living heart in his Soul Space.
"Let us see," Han Yu whispered, "whether a monster like you can still scream when its soul is torn apart."
The Evil Mountain Spirit was being driven back, not by fear, but by force.
Madam Cold Fang’s attacks came like a winter storm given will. Spears of ice fell from the sky. Walls of frost rose from the ground. Blades of cold wind sliced through the air in every direction.
The spirit twisted, flowed, hardened, and dispersed, avoiding fatal blows by the width of a hair, but it was clearly being forced into a narrower and narrower space.
Its laughter had stopped.
Now it hissed.
Its blood mist form roiled like a wounded beast, half of its upper body still showing the distorted shape of a man, with fangs bared and eyes burning red, while the lower half was nothing but swirling crimson fog mixed with black specks.
Madam Cold Fang struck again, her palm releasing a crescent of ice Qi that split a nearby cliff in half as the spirit barely avoided it.
For a brief instant, its movement slowed.
That was the moment Han Yu had been waiting for.
He appeared fifty meters away in a flash, his robes snapping in the freezing wind. Frost immediately formed along his sleeves, hair, and brows, but he ignored it. He raised his palm, his mind turning inward, drawing power not from Qi, not from blood, but from the vast, surging sea of his soul.
"Emotion Severing Slash!"
He slashed forward.
WHOOSH.
There was no visible blade, only a faint shimmer, like heat distortion in winter air. It passed through snow, rock, Qi, and cold as if none of it existed, and struck the blood mist that formed the lower half of the spirit.
HISSSSS
It sounded like flesh thrown into boiling oil.
The red mist twisted violently, a quarter of it being torn away as if sliced by an invisible scythe.
The Evil Mountain Spirit screamed.
"UGRAAAAAAAAASSSSS!!!"
SCREEEEEEECH
Not in rage.
In pain.
A sharp, shrill cry echoed across the mountains, making stones vibrate and snow slide from cliffs.
"You dare!" it screeched, its voice warping between man and monster. "You filthy mortal, you dare hurt me with that thing!"
Han Yu stared, his eyes wide.
"It worked!" he shouted in disbelief.
Even Madam Cold Fang paused for a fraction of a second, her cold eyes flickering with surprise. She had damaged the spirit’s upper body before, but its mist form had always ignored her attacks, reforming again and again.
Yet Han Yu had torn away part of it.
The spirit’s rage turned fully toward him.
