Chapter 4914 — Pleading for Mercy

At this thought, a sudden inspiration struck Wei Zhao: he was not entirely without means against this kind of primordial spirit. After all, when he had first encountered the ghostly thing face to face, it had not begun with friendly conversation—it had been a case of fighting first, friendship after.

With a wraith's primordial spirit that could not even speak clearly, Wei Zhao had no patience for idle words. Without hesitation he summoned his elixir fire—the thing most effective against primordial spirits!

The elixir fire vanished instantly into the eerie purple mist, yet the scene Wei Zhao had envisioned—the other's primordial spirit annihilated utterly—did not come to pass. At first glance, the thing seemed not to react at all...

"How can that be?" Wei Zhao frowned at once. That couldn't be right—could it be that elixir fire had no effect on primordial spirits?

But in the very next instant Wei Zhao knew he had been wrong. That eerily purple mist, which had seemed tolerably calm, suddenly turned utterly frenzied and violent. The dried thunder dragon corpse under its control raised both claws and its bony tail and smashed them down upon its own head, and in an instant that huge, hideous skull was beaten to pieces by itself!

Wei Zhao, unable to keep his footing, plunged from midair after it, his heart still cold with fright. Thank goodness the jade pendant had given timely warning and he had dodged—otherwise he would surely have been pulverized just like the thunder dragon corpse's head.

Judging by this display, the elixir fire was not without effect on it—otherwise the thing would never have gone so wildly berserk all at once, even going so far as to make the thunder dragon corpse mutilate itself!

"Of course it has an effect. It's just that your elixir fire, boy, is too low in grade to wipe it out directly. Pain, though—that it can certainly deliver," the ghostly thing, silent for so long, suddenly spoke up.

"Then what do I do now? Keep burning it with elixir fire?" Wei Zhao asked, snatching the question in between dodging the thunder dragon corpse as it came crashing down.

By now, after that bout of self-mutilation, the thunder dragon corpse had lost even its head. The eerie purple mist had torn itself completely free from it and was gradually about to disperse into the air.

This was not its annihilation—it was a return to the wraith's primordial spirit's original state. That vast resentment shrouding the entire City of Thunder Burials—that was its true body.

"Burn it if you feel like it—won't do much good, though. Just makes it hurt a bit. If you mean to burn it to death with that little elixir fire of yours, who knows how many years that'd take," the ghostly thing said, curling its lip.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Wei Zhao said, frowning helplessly. He watched as the purple mist slowly melted away into the vast resentment around them, utterly at a loss, able to do nothing but stare.

"Watch the show, that's what. You've had your fun long enough, boy—time I got a bit of exercise." The ghostly thing gave a chuckle, and before Wei Zhao could react came its sudden, thunderous roar: "Eight Directions Spirit Binding—get out here!"

An incomparably mighty pressure in that instant crushed down upon all four quarters. Wei Zhao could distinctly feel the resentment around them scattered several degrees thinner, while that eerie purple mist in the distance trembled without cease—as if some invisible, immense force of suction were dragging it bodily over!

Under that mighty pull, the eerie purple mist had not the slightest power to resist. And what astonished Wei Zhao even more was that as the purple mist was seized and drawn near, the vast resentment spread all around them swiftly weakened, and in a short while vanished without a trace.

Nor was that all—the heavy layers of mist in every direction likewise began to disperse. All at once the view before him opened up; he could clearly see a hundred or more feet away, and with it his spiritual sense could perceive again.

Wei Zhao was overjoyed, like a drowning man who had finally seen the light of day and could truly draw a breath at last. That stifling feeling of being wrapped layer upon layer in mist was truly unbearable; a little longer and his chest would have burst.

"Senior, if you had such formidable means, why didn't you use them sooner? Making me wear myself out grinding away at that dried thunder dragon corpse—aren't you just toying with me for fun?" Wei Zhao could not help complaining with a bitter smile.

"Toying with you? Where would I find the leisure for that..." the ghostly thing scoffed.

"Isn't it so, though? I fought that thing tooth and nail for ages and got not a whit of results, and then you, Senior, subdue it with a single casual roar. Why not strike sooner?" Wei Zhao curled his lip.

"A single casual roar?" The ghostly thing was amused at that. "Heh heh—boy, you truly don't know the value of what you're seeing. Eight Directions Spirit Binding is a heaven-reaching spiritual-sense art—you think it's really as simple as a casual roar? I'll tell you: casting that move costs a great deal of vital essence. I've been brewing it since the moment we came in. After all, this is a wraith's primordial spirit gathered from the death-ghosts of countless lightning-attribute spirit beasts—did you really think it would be so easy to deal with?"

"Uh..." Wei Zhao was slightly taken aback. Only now did he notice that the ghostly thing seemed somewhat weakened; it looked as though it truly had damaged its vital essence. A move that could subdue a wraith's primordial spirit in one stroke came, as expected, at a tremendous price.

As the two spoke, the eerie purple mist had been drawn over completely. Yet it was no longer a ball of fog as before; it now showed some semblance of a spirit beast—only one moment it was a dragon, the next an eagle, then a tiger, then a leopard, shifting back and forth, elusive and impossible to grasp.

"You... all... must die..." The wraith's primordial spirit's harsh, ugly voice imprinted itself upon Wei Zhao's mind once more.

"Heh heh, is that so? Well then, I'd like to see how you mean to kill us." The ghostly thing gave a cold laugh, and at once, as if an invisible giant hand had clenched tight in empty air, the wraith's primordial spirit let out a heart-rending, piercing wail, and its purple radiance dimmed considerably.

"Please... spare..." The wraith's primordial spirit could not endure it at once and, like a wild beast that had just learned to form human words, began with great difficulty to plead for mercy.

"Heh, this thing knows when it's beaten." Wei Zhao could not help laughing. He had assumed that since the other was condensed from the death-wraiths of countless lightning-attribute spirit beasts, it must be a thing of boundless ferocity and frenzy, utterly beyond reason—never had he expected it to beg for mercy so quickly once subdued.

"Quite normal. Because this thing fused too many wraiths, its strength became unthinkably great, but at the same time, since the various wraiths' lingering thoughts conflict with one another, its intelligence is severely affected. It's already remarkable that it can manage human speech at all; it's in no position to scheme." The ghostly thing explained.

"I see. No wonder this thing moved so slowly when it first dealt with me—such a long gap between one bolt of lightning and the next. Had it been a little quicker, I might never have recovered in time and would have been struck dead by its lightning long ago," Wei Zhao nodded.

Nor was that all—in fact, from the way it had fought the dried thunder dragon corpse afterward, one could tell that this wraith's primordial spirit had essentially no method to speak of! (As Qiang Shao must keep up two updates a day, the School Beauty will switch to two updates a day in November, and resume three updates in December.) (To be continued.)