Chapter 20

The man and the snake stared fixedly at the long nail piercing through the palm of his left hand.

As the cold wind blew and the candle flame flickered, the shadow cast by the nail fluctuated in length, shifting from side to side, almost as if it were moving.

Was it just an illusion?

The man furrowed his brows, instinctively glancing at the pink snake. The snake also turned its head to look at him, blinking its large eyes, as if seeking his opinion.

Despite their recent acquaintance, there was already a silent understanding between the man and the snake.

After a moment of mutual contemplation, the man spoke in a deep voice, “You should be careful. This nail is peculiar. It’s draining my vitality and essence.”

Ordinary Soul-Annihilating Nails could not seal him, let alone extract his blood. The forbidden techniques he possessed were intricately linked to blood. Aside from himself, no one could make him bleed!

However, even if he explained this complexity, the little creature would not understand.

“Stay away from me, don’t play around!” the man cautioned.

The pink snake wagged its tail and swam closer.

Frowning, the man’s numbed left hand stiffly moved, “You don’t understand human speech?” his voice tinged with impatience.

“F*ck your grandpa,” the pink snake spat out a human curse, its voice surprisingly childish.

The man: “…”

The absurdity of the situation almost made him burst into laughter!

“You weigh ten pounds but have a nine-pound rebellious streak?” he quipped.

“Chirp!” This time it didn’t swear again, but the high-pitched chirp sounded like backtalk.

The situation grew even more absurd! The man stared at the pink snake, his eye twitching.

“You better leave. This is the Temple of the Ghost Mother. At midnight, the Ghost Mother resurrects, and you won’t be able to leave. I’m nailed to the ground and can’t help you. When all the nails turn red, that will be my end.”

The man calmly described his predicament.

Shifting his gaze from the cute, chubby face of the snake, he looked at the nail in the center of his left palm.

Threads of blood flowed upwards from the pierced wound, slowly staining the greenish rust red. Were it not for the forbidden techniques he had acquired being blood-related, he would have been drained dry by the five nails long ago.

Immobile, his heart pierced and pinned by sharp objects, the excruciating agony was beyond the comprehension of ordinary individuals. Each heartbeat was a torturous reminder of life’s fragility.

The man’s bronze skin revealed taut, sturdy veins carrying not blood but blades within. In the depths of agony, his once profound eyes slowly dimmed.

He was a man on the brink of death.

The pink snake caught the scent of death but felt no fear. As long as there was food, it would jump into a boiling pot without hesitation. If it meant a crispy exterior and juicy interior, it might even take a bite.

Crawling onto the man’s palm, its large eyes closely examined the bronze head at the tip of the nail.

Its scales were smooth and delicate, offering a slightly cool sensation. As the man’s fingers twitched, he looked down.

The bronze nail had already stained halfway red, its human-like head with closed eyes, sealed lips, and crude facial features. Crafted with seemingly hasty strokes, the artisan had only etched three lines to represent facial features instead of the usual five.

The rough craftsmanship paradoxically heightened its eerie quality, appearing incredibly malevolent upon closer inspection.

Furrowing his brows, the man cautioned, “Don’t get too close!”

The pink snake pressed its face against the head, drawing near.

“Are you a rebellious creature?” the man seemed to comprehend.

The pink snake extended its slender, forked tongue and licked the bronze-cast human head.

This was reckless! The man’s expression froze.

In the next moment, the eyes of the bronze head abruptly opened, glaring at the pink snake with a malevolent gaze.

“Get down!” The man’s voice rasped, his heart pounding.

But it was too late. The mouth of the human head violently snapped shut, clamping down on the snake’s tongue, emitting a chilling aura. Everything happened in the blink of an eye, catching everyone off guard.

A small snake, half a meter in length, ballooned into a massive sphere with a two-meter diameter in the blink of an eye.

The man was left dumbfounded.

The snake’s body, originally semi-transparent, now expanded into a thin, transparent membrane filled with a dense black aura after inflating. As the density of the aura was low, it began to rise, causing the balloon to float. The elongated tongue, caught in the grip of the bronze head, acted as both a conduit for injecting the aura and a tether for the balloon.

In an instant, the man understood how his friend had met his demise.

The man had attempted to remove the nail, but the human skin glove on his palm was torn by the bite. The head exuded a chilling aura, injecting it into his abdomen, causing him to burst. Such a dense aura, coupled with a massive surge in a split second, meant certain death for anyone it touched!

The pink balloon continued to expand, its two small stubby arms now reduced to tiny protrusions the size of a bean, fear evident in its black eyes.

“Squeak, squeak!” The infantile plea from the pink balloon now carried a trembling tone of desperation.

The man struggled with all his might, only to face the reversal of blood flow and the tearing of his heart. At this moment, he was powerless and in imminent danger. He believed the little creature would burst from the overwhelming aura at any moment. Despite his friend’s formidable strength, he didn’t survive even a second.

But he was mistaken.

The bronze head opened its mouth like a black hole, incessantly spewing out the chilling aura, its vengeful eyes flashing with crimson coldness. The pink balloon continued to swell, growing larger and larger, yet remained unharmed. Its belly seemed to connect to another dimension, capable of consuming endless amounts of aura.

The man was left speechless.

What was this little creature made of? Bullhide! Even bullhide could burst, but this one remained intact.

The crimson lights continued to flicker in the bronze head’s eyes, its face devoid of muscles and expressions, exuding an air of frustration.

The man shook his head, finding the situation somewhat absurd. However, his smile quickly faded as the aura inside the pink balloon condensed into a twisted human form, gradually revealing distinct features—the likeness of his recently deceased brother.

“Jiang Fangzheng?” The man exclaimed in shock and anger.

To swiftly eliminate the little creature, the Soul-Annihilating Nails released the souls they had previously consumed to launch an attack. Acting as vessels for souls, they were also gateways to hell, containing mountains of knives, seas of fire, and various tortures. Under their influence, any soul would lose its sanity and turn into a vengeful spirit, manipulated by them.

Indeed, these five Soul-Annihilating Nails were no ordinary artifacts! They were more than sufficient to deal with his current situation.

The man could barely bring himself to witness what was about to unfold with the little creature. He could already imagine the horrors that would befall his body once possessed by vengeful spirits.

Organs torn apart, bones shattered, blood evaporated, brains boiling… There was no more excruciating way to die in the world!

As the Soul-Annihilating Nails released the souls, they hastened the absorption of the man’s vitality and essence to combat the little creature, depleting their resources.

His limbs numb with pain, each heartbeat felt like being torn apart by sharp claws. Bent over in agony, drenched in cold sweat, teeth clenched to the point of breaking, yet he refused to utter a single groan.

The little creature’s body displayed remarkable resilience, matched by an unyielding will.

“If you have the guts, swallow my soul! Even if you throw me into the eighteenth level of Hell, I’ll find my way out!” The man’s sweat-drenched face twisted into a fierce grin, his narrowed eyes fixed on the familiar ghostly figure within the pink balloon.

The vengeful spirit’s visage contorted unnaturally, bearing no resemblance to its former elegant self. Its claws tore, its fangs gnawed, and its malevolent eyes exuded resentment. Enshrouded in thick black mist, it almost appeared like a ghostly fetus within a womb.

The man intensified his struggles.

Death itself wasn’t the most frightening; what was truly terrifying was losing one’s sanity after death, enduring torment in the depths of Hell day and night. Removing the Soul-Annihilating Nails, killing the vengeful spirit that once was his friend, granting the release from endless agony—this was the man’s only choice.

But he couldn’t do it! He couldn’t even move a finger!

Mei Yuxuan had unexpectedly fallen into such a state of despair!

His eye sockets widened, blood streaming out, the man wished he could chop off his own limbs just to crawl over.

His hatred had reached its peak!

Plop… a long, muffled sound reverberated through the stone chamber, freezing the almost frenzied emotions abruptly.

The man blinked his narrow eyes, his whole being now in a state of shock.

In mid-air, a massive three-meter-diameter balloon was farting. The tiny tail, crushed into a small bean, emitted black smoke in puffs.

The vengeful spirit enveloped in the black smoke was propelled out, shooting towards the top of the stone chamber. It shouldn’t have been able to leave the Soul-Annihilating Nails; within a five-meter radius, an invisible force tethered it. At the slightest hint of escape, it would be drawn back, cast back into the depths of Hell.

However, the pink balloon’s excretory function was incredibly powerful, propelling it high into the air in an instant. Beyond the five-meter radius, the tethering force vanished, causing the vengeful spirit to emit a piercing scream and vanish into the void.

It had escaped! Escaped from this hellish realm! Perhaps it would become a remnant soul, eventually vanquished by a hunter. Or maybe it would invade a new body, returning to the mortal world.

The man gazed at the empty dome, his expression blank, his heart suddenly hollow. Much of his hatred and despair dissipated without a place to settle.

The pink balloon continued its flatulence, the echoing sound clearing the eerie atmosphere within the temple.

The man’s facial muscles twitched, uncertain of what expression to adopt. With such a massive influx of aura into his body, even the most skilled hunters would face two outcomes: either exploding or turning into a walking corpse.

The current situation was beyond his comprehension. Resistant to the aura’s corrosion and able to expel it completely, this little creature’s origin was extraordinary.

The bronze head continued to expel souls and aura, its eyes crimson. Many ghostly figures clashed within the pink balloon, only to be ejected one by one. The outcome of this confrontation had been clear from the start—a farcical play with a predetermined conclusion.

As the man turned his head slightly, he faintly discerned a trace of frustration on the metallic face.

The farting sound persisted, black smoke billowing out in puffs. Once the souls trapped in the smoke were ejected by the pink balloon, they scattered and wailed, creating a chaotic scene.

The pink balloon slowly deflated, descending from the air. The Soul-Annihilating Nails were merely vessels with finite capacity, unable to release aura and souls endlessly. As much as the nails expelled, the pink balloon excreted, gradually depleting its resources.

The malevolent glow in the eyes extinguished completely, with a light crackling sound, the human head on the nail suddenly split open, shedding a few specks of rust.

The restraint on his left hand vanished instantly, allowing the man to extract the blood from the bronze nail to replenish himself. The once crimson portion of the nail slowly faded, covered by a thicker layer of rust, rendering this superior-grade artifact useless.

Realizing this, the man gazed at the pink balloon with a complex expression.

“You’re still in your infancy, right? I can’t imagine what you’ll become when you grow up.” After a moment of contemplation, his hoarse voice carried a hint of oppression and apprehension, “Perhaps I shouldn’t let you grow up.”

The pink balloon let out its final fart, reverting completely to its original form.

Following the split in the human head, the tongue that had been held captive was also released. It rushed forward and, in a childish tone, cursed at the bronze nail, “F*ck your grandpa!”

A dangerous glint flickered in the man’s eyes, like a flickering candle, as a fraction of the hidden murderous intent dissolved involuntarily from his pupils.