Unintended Immortality-Chapter 385: Are You Worthy to Compare to My Master?

All of them were trapped within the flames, crying, struggling, and pleading for mercy.

“Ah!”

“It hurts so much...”

“I’m sorry for my mistakes! Please spare me!”

“I only accidentally hurt someone. I've already served my sentence and repented...”

“Ahhh...”

The cries of agony pierced directly into the soul.

And so did the anguished wails.

Song You remained silent, his heart heavy. He tapped the ground with his bamboo staff.

“Boom...”

“Buzz!”

A wave of light rippled outward instantly.

The flames, as if blown by a great wind, were pressed flat to the ground.

“Come!”

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The Daoist raised his hand with a simple gesture.

All the flames in the Inferno leapt upward—not rising in intensity, but lifting off the ground and flowing toward him. The fire gathered into a fiery river, shrinking as it moved closer. By the time it reached him, it had condensed into a bead no larger than a pigeon egg, glowing and suspended in the air beside him.

The Inferno quickly dimmed as the light of the flames vanished.

However, the space was not plunged into darkness. The walls of the prison were densely inscribed with countless gold-and-red runes, glowing faintly and providing enough light to illuminate the entire chamber.

“Ahhh...”

The ghosts on the ground continued to wail.

Though the flames had vanished, the searing pain and damage caused by them lingered. Those writhing in agony remained on the ground, and those screaming continued their cries.

Gradually, however, the sounds began to weaken.

One by one, the ghosts lifted their heads.

At first, they thought the punishment had ended or that the State Preceptor had shown mercy. But when they looked toward the passage entrance above, they saw a Daoist standing there.

“Immortal Master!”

“Immortal Master Song!”

Many ghosts recognized Song You. During his seven days in the Ghost City, he had spoken to numerous spirits while investigating Mount Ye. Though he might not remember all of them, even a brief encounter with him had left an indelible impression on the ghosts.

Now, several ghosts called out his name.

“Sir, save us!”

“Please plead on our behalf, Immortal Master!”

“We have repented...”

Song You remained silent, his gaze sweeping over the Inferno once more.

The prison floor was flat, the ceiling rounded, and the walls formed a circular chamber. The shape narrowed at the top and bottom, with the widest part in the middle, where the passage he had entered was located. Observing it now, it indeed resembled an alchemy furnace.

On the floor, ceiling, and walls, in addition to the fire formations and isolation barriers he had seen before, a new layer of far more intricate formations had been added. However, the earlier commotion caused by the marsh dragon had left slight cracks in a section of these unreinforced runes. It was likely through these cracks that the ghosts' cries of anguish had managed to escape.

“Whoosh...”

Song You exhaled a breath.

Instantly, a fierce wind arose within the Inferno.

The wind was as sharp as blades but caused no harm to the ghosts below. Instead, it swept along the edges of the prison.

Wherever the wind passed, the runes inscribed on the walls were wiped clean.

Only then did Song You turn his gaze downward, his words simple and direct. “Do not panic. I am here.”

“Immortal Master, save us!”

“We do not deserve such punishment...”

“Save us, Immortal Master!”

All at once, every ghost began pleading desperately.

Though their words were ordinary, their sorrowful cries and genuine emotions carried a natural weight that tugged at the heart.

“Do not fear. The calamity has passed.”

Again, his words were simple, yet they instantly calmed the ghosts below. It was as if some profound divine power or technique had smoothed over their turmoil, bringing peace to their spirits.

“I can assure you,” Song You said calmly, “the calamity has passed—unless I die here.” His voice, steady and unwavering, seemed even more reassuring than before. “If you trust me, you can return to the Ghost City once I leave. However, there is one thing I must tell you in advance.”

“W-What is it?”

“What is it?”

“Mr. Song, you are truly compassionate and divine!”

“Please, tell us!”

“It’s nothing much,” Song You explained. “But there may be some disturbances above soon. Do not panic. If, by chance, the Ghost City is destroyed, you may leave, but I ask that you do not stray far from Mount Ye.”

He continued, “The areas around Mount Ye are saturated with ghostly and yin qi. Even during the day, it will be safe for you to remain nearby. However, if you wander too far, you may be burned to death by sunlight or risk being destroyed by others.”

“Disturbances...”

“The Ghost City might be destroyed...?”

“Why would it be destroyed?”

“What’s happening outside?”

The ghosts who had been in the Inferno the longest, whose souls were the most severely damaged, either lay unconscious or endured the pain in silence, unable to speak. They could only strain to listen. However, the ghosts with less severe injuries forgot their pain entirely at Song You’s words. Realizing that their fate hung in the balance, they quickly called out:

“Please, Immortal Master, tell us more!”

“As long as I live,” Song You said solemnly, his tone steady, “I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety and to provide a refuge for you and all the ghosts outside this place.” He then raised his hand and bowed respectfully toward them. “I am Song You, a disciple of Hidden Dragon Temple on Yin-Yang Mountain in Lingquan County, Yizhou. Please, trust me.”

“Boom!”

The mountain trembled, and stones shifted, forming a bridge.

The bridge extended from the floor of the Inferno to the elevated passageway leading outside.

Standing still, Song You continued, “Once you leave, I ask that you inform the ghosts outside the Ghost City of this as well. If you are willing to trust me, I will not let you down.”

“...”

The ghosts looked at each other, their expressions filled with uncertainty.

They knew this was a divine figure of immense power, but he was still a stranger to most of them, someone they had only exchanged a few words with. Many of them had been despised in life and felt their worthlessness even more deeply in death. The living world had no place for them, and the gods paid them no heed. Some had committed small wrongs during their lives.

For the State Preceptor, sorting them into arbitrary ranks or dragging them to the flames was an act they dared not resist. They only begged for mercy, admitted fault, and never even considered cursing their plight.

Yet this divine figure was different...

Someone was the first to kneel.

Many others didn’t hesitate, quickly following suit, until the ghosts fell to their knees in waves, covering the ground in their submission.

Even the ghosts whose souls were severely damaged, writhing on the ground in spasms, began crawling and twisting toward him to kneel, as long as they had even the faintest shred of consciousness.

At that moment, all the ghosts bowed low, like wheat bending in the wind.

“...”

But just as they finished kneeling, before they could offer thanks or words of praise, they looked up—only to see that the passage ahead was already empty. The Daoist was nowhere to be seen. Only the stone bridge remained, stretching from the depths of the Inferno to the elevated passage.

It truly looked like a road to the heavens.

***

At the summit of Mount Ye.

The fox demon had reverted to human form. Her eight tails swayed gracefully in the wind behind her. She had found a smooth, flat stone of suitable height, placed an ancient qin atop it, and now knelt before it, her slender fingers plucking its strings.

Her demeanor was relaxed, almost casual.

The melodious strains of the qin drifted on the wind, carrying far and wide.

“Are you unwilling to leave?” asked the limping Daoist standing ahead of her.

“Why should I leave?” The woman pressed her hand lightly against the strings, halting the lingering notes. She smiled as she looked at the State Preceptor. “I have never harmed anyone, nor have I ever helped you. My conscience is clear. At most, I may have offended you, but no one else. Why should I fear Hidden Dragon Temple?”

“Do you intend to reap the benefits as a bystander?”

“Not at all,” the fox woman replied.

“The severed tail of the Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox you prepared—isn’t it meant for that Daoist?”

“Not at all,” she said again, lowering her head. With a languid grace, she resumed plucking the strings of her qin, her demeanor effortless and unparalleled. “It was meant for the helpers you summoned. But I think you’ve all underestimated this Daoist.”

“We have seven great demons—why should we fear him?” A particularly tall and muscular man stepped forward, his voice booming. “You hold the Fox Ancestor’s tail, which grants the might of an ancient power. If you join forces with us, even the most formidable successor of Hidden Dragon Temple would die here. When that happens, the State Preceptor can share a batch of his Longevity Pills with you. What do you think?”

“You refused to give it to me just now. It’s too late now,” she replied.

“So you refuse?”

“Heh, how foolish. No wonder you’ve fallen to this point.” The fox woman’s tone abruptly shifted, her qin playing halting as she lifted her head to smile at the man. “It’s a pity we’re not as foolish as you. We wouldn’t dare provoke the pinnacle of Mortal Dao, those blessed by the heavens, in a world governed by Human Dao.”

“Do you think you’re so much better than us?” the man retorted angrily.

“That’s a painful question...”

The woman lowered her gaze again, refusing to argue further. She resumed playing the qin and spoke without lifting her head. “Whether you stay or leave, I suggest you decide soon. As for the crocodiles, they should remain—they’re not going anywhere.”

“Hmph...” The marsh dragon atop the mountain let out a deep snort, a sound like thunder shaking the heavens and earth.

Yet even its gaze flickered with uncertainty.

“Changyuanzi...” The marsh dragon muttered the name.

The State Preceptor remained still, not even glancing at it.

“Our survival hasn’t been easy,” the marsh dragon continued. “We came south to avoid disaster. The youngest one among us is of little use here—it won’t make a difference. The rest of us are enough.”

The State Preceptor lowered his gaze slightly and replied, “Very well.”

The marsh dragon abruptly turned its head.

The smallest of the marsh dragons wasted no time, turning around and leaving without hesitation.

The larger marsh dragon coldly fixed its gaze on the fox woman.

However, she remained completely unmoved, focused on playing her qin, showing no intention of stopping or chasing after the departing marsh dragon.

After a brief moment, she lifted her hands from the strings, looked up, and smiled mischievously. “You killed our grandmother. How could this be so easily forgiven? I’m glad that you stayed. It’s fine if you let your kin leave instead. After today, when all of you are dead, we’ll slowly track it down. That will be quite entertaining!”

“We’ll kill you first!” The marsh dragon’s voice boomed like thunder, laden with murderous intent.

Yet, despite its words, it made no move.

The Hidden Dragon Temple Daoist had returned to Mount Ye, slowly ascending the mountain once more.

The marsh dragon immediately turned its massive head, its enormous pupils narrowing into cold vertical slits devoid of emotion, fixing its gaze on the Daoist.

“Still here, I see...” The Daoist spoke as he walked, though his expression had turned noticeably colder.

He had anticipated that the great demons of the white rhinoceroses wouldn’t leave; their entire clan was being hunted by the Heavenly Palace, with no safe haven left. It was no surprise that they would stay. One of the marsh dragons had left, which was a wise choice, but the other four remained.

In a way, it was a good thing—one fewer marsh dragon to deal with was always better.

As for the fox demon, she seemed almost deranged, calmly playing her qin in the midst of it all.

“Demons are simple creatures,” the fox woman said, her tone light and amused. “They’re foolishly stubborn. Once they’ve made a promise to the State Preceptor, it’s not so easy for them to go back on their word. As for us, we stayed to assist you, and at the same time, to resolve the grievances between our clans. If it means sparing the ancestor’s severed tail at the cost of a batch of Longevity Pills, it’s worth it.”

The marsh dragon continued staring at the Daoist. “And what of the cat and the swallow that accompanied you? Have they gone to summon help? How about the old snake from Mount Beiqin? You’ve delayed for so long, yet they’ve still not arrived?”

“You misunderstand,” Song You replied.

He stopped in his tracks, leaning slightly on his bamboo staff, and met the marsh dragon’s gaze directly. A boundless surge of spiritual energy surrounded him, causing sand and stones to shift and scatter. Yet his voice remained calm.

“I left the cat and the swallow outside to persuade the Longwei Army stationed beyond Mount Ye to retreat. As for my departure earlier—it was simply to save the souls trapped in the mountain. As for dealing with all of you, I am more than enough...”

The marsh dragons and white rhinoceroses braced themselves, their battle-ready auras filling the air.

The State Preceptor had already drawn the wooden sword from his waist.

Only the fox demon remained at ease, her fingers dancing over the strings of her qin as she laughed softly—mocking the marsh dragon’s foolishness and the State Preceptor’s arrogance.

“And as for comparing yourselves to my master...”

The Daoist shook his head with a faint smile, his gaze sweeping over them all.

“Are you even worthy?”

A resounding boom echoed through the air.

The bamboo staff struck the ground, and a furious wind erupted, roaring to life.