Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All-Chapter 811: Curse Crafting

Yu Holea gritted her teeth and pushed everything she had into her core.

Power surged through her, a glowing circle of mystic energy forming beneath her feet.

Sparks snapped in the air, her hair whipping around her face.

"You’re not taking her!" she shouted.

The mist shrieked, twisting violently.

A beam of energy burst from Yu Holea’s hands and slammed into the mist, disrupting the pull. The resistance was crushing, like pushing back an avalanche.

She fought for every inch.

Until, finally...

The mist cracked.

And then shattered into pieces, vanishing into the air.

Yu Holea collapsed to her knees, panting.

The room was silent again.

Yu Mei—gone.

And in her arms, Ou Xiaoxiao’s body rested, unconscious but safe.

Yu Holea looked down, brushing Xiaoxiao’s hair from her face. Her lips were tight. Her body trembled from the strain.

"We were close," she whispered. "So close."

She looked toward the place where Yu Mei had vanished.

Her expression turned grim.

"This won’t be easy," she said softly. "She’s stronger than I thought."

The Ou family rushed into the dim room the moment the protective barrier dimmed.

"Xiaoxiao!" Mrs. Ou cried, rushing toward the girl in Yu Holea’s arms. "Is that—has she returned? Is it her?"

Yu Holea slowly looked up, her expression grim, her arms still protectively around the unconscious body. She shook her head.

"No," she said softly, her voice strained. "Her soul... still hasn’t returned."

The room fell quiet.

Disappointment swept across their faces like a cold wind. But before anyone could say another word, Yu Holea swayed.

Ou Lin caught her just in time. "Holea!" he exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

But Yu Holea didn’t answer. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed into his arms.

"Holea!" Mrs. Ou gasped in horror. "Lin, get her to a room—now!"

Ou Lin nodded quickly and lifted her up gently. "She pushed herself too far..." he murmured.

"I should have stopped her..." Mrs. Ou whispered, her voice cracking with guilt. "We all just kept asking... demanding. I never even asked if she was alright."

"It’s not your fault, Mom," Lin said softly as he carried Yu Holea away. "But right now, she needs rest."

...................

Yu Holea remained unconscious for several hours. The entire family waited anxiously.

When she finally woke, the first thing she saw was Mrs. Ou’s tearful face and Lin holding out a glass of water.

"You’re awake," Mr. Ou said, relief softening his usually stern tone.

"Here," Lin said, helping her sit up. "Drink something. You need to eat too."

Yu Holea took the water and drank slowly. Her body was weak, her limbs aching. But her eyes, sharp and calm, remained steady.

"I’m fine now," she said softly.

"No, you’re not," Mrs. Ou said, sitting beside her and taking her hand gently.

"You nearly passed out from exhaustion. And all for our sake. I... I’m sorry, Holea. I truly am."

Yu Holea shook her head and gave a tired smile. "It’s not your fault. I should’ve prepared more. I didn’t anticipate... certain things."

Mr. Ou stepped forward. "Still, we rushed you. That’s on us."

Yu Holea looked at them all, then exhaled deeply. "We were close. I won’t stop trying. I will get Xiaoxiao back."

But this time, Mr. Ou raised a hand. "No," he said.

"Not yet. You’ve done more than enough. Please... rest. Take some time before doing anything more."

...................

And she did.

Yu Holea returned to her apartment, where Qiao Jun was waiting.

She slept for three days straight. No talismans, no rituals. Just sleep, food, and quiet.

On the fourth day, she sat up, stared at the ceiling, and whispered, "I’ll need more power next time."

She continued with her film shoot, as planned. Her lines were clean. Her movements are fluid and flawless. But everyone on set could feel it.

Something was burning quietly behind her eyes.

A fire.

She took a full week to recover before she even mentioned the ritual again. But when she did, her decision was final.

"I’m ready," she told the Ou family, her voice steady. "It’s time."

"No," Mrs. Ou pleaded, "You’re still recovering. You shouldn’t—"

"I’ve given her enough time to recover," Yu Holea said sharply. "Every second I wait, she gets stronger. I won’t let that happen."

Qiao Jun, standing behind her, placed a hand on her shoulder.

"She won’t be doing this alone," he said calmly. "I’ll protect her."

Mrs. Ou looked between them, torn, but finally nodded.

They began again.

Yu Mei—inhabiting Ou Xiaoxiao’s body—immediately began thrashing, bound by invisible seals. Her voice rose in a snarl.

"You’re just JEALOUS!" she spat at Yu Holea. "That’s why you want to hurt me! You and Qiao Jun—both bitter and pathetic!"

Yu Holea didn’t flinch.

Qiao Jun didn’t even blink.

Yu Mei turned to Qiao Jun, her voice mockingly sweet. "Is this your way of saying sorry, Qiao Jun? Are you going to propose to me once I get back in my real body? Is that why you’re trying so hard?"

Qiao Jun’s face darkened.

He said nothing, but the disgust in his eyes spoke volumes.

Ou Lin, standing nearby, covered his face with one hand. "I swear, she’s dumber than I imagined," he muttered under his breath.

"Just wait," Yu Mei hissed. "My boyfriend—Meng Nanhao—he’s going to find me. And once he does, I’ll burn all of you down."

Nobody responded.

Yu Holea stepped forward and knelt on the ground. With practiced fingers, she began to draw a wide mystic circle.

She pressed her palm to the floor, her fingers tracing the final stroke of the mystic circle as it lit up beneath her. But as she steadied her breathing, a thought flickered in the back of her mind—something important.

......................

The sky above the set had been overcast. Yu Holea had just finished a complicated stunt sequence, wiping sweat from her brow as the director shouted a satisfied "Cut!" She was walking back toward her trailer when it happened.

A low hum buzzed at the edge of her mind.

And then...

"Congratulations on opening curse crafting!" Zephyr’s voice sounded in her ears.

Yu Holea’s steps froze.

Her eyes widened slightly. Curses?

That meant she could weaken her enemies... seal them... maybe even tear them apart from the inside.

Her heart skipped. "Finally," she whispered. "I can curse."

Zephyr’s voice echoed gently in her mind, calm and instructive as always.

"If you want to curse," Zephyr said, "you must first learn the language of magical patterns. Without them, your curses will be unstable and break apart mid-channeling."

"I want to try," Holea replied, eyes glowing with quiet excitement.

"Then absorb the knowledge. Focus. Let it enter you."

That evening, after filming wrapped, she headed to a remote cottage she’d quietly rented outside the city—far from the eyes of both humans and spirits.

She lit incense, laid out her talisman scrolls, and sat cross-legged in the center of the room.

With one breath, she closed her eyes.

A stream of glowing symbols flowed into her mind—twisting spirals, sacred geometry, and ancient sigils layered with meaning. Her head ached for a moment, but then it all started to make sense. The knowledge clicked into place.

When she opened her eyes, they glowed faintly blue.

She grabbed a piece of chalk and went outside to the wide stone courtyard. The night air was cool, the ground slightly damp.

Kneeling, she began to draw.

Curve. Spiral. Slash. Inward knot.

The first pattern she drew pulsed with eerie green light.

A summoning circle.

She stepped back as it began to glow.

The wind picked up.

Cracks split the earth in the middle of the circle, and then rattling.

From the depths, white fingers clawed upward.

First one skeleton. Then two.

Small ones. A crawling one. A tall one with cracked ribs and horns.

They clattered into existence, standing still within the glowing circle.

Holea blinked. Then grinned.

"This is... incredible," she breathed.

The skeletons, obedient and silent, simply stared at her with hollow sockets.

"Zephyr," she asked breathlessly, "is there a magical pattern that can trap someone... and block their mystic energy?"

"Yes," Zephyr said, his voice deeper this time. "There is. But it’s complex. If you draw it incorrectly, it may backfire. You’ll need to practice with more patterns before attempting that one."

"Then show me," she said. "I’ll practice."

And so she did.

For the next few nights, in the courtyard under the moonlight, she practiced drawing one magical pattern after another.

The Mirror Sigil — it reflected back weak curses and rebounded minor spells.

The Binding Net — thin lines woven like spiderwebs that locked limbs and slowed movement.

The Silence Seal — it created a field where no sound or voice could escape, perfect for interrogation or isolation.

And the Pain Loop Circle, which caused repeating cycles of phantom pain through pressure points.

Each time she succeeded, the sigils glowed brighter. She could feel her control sharpening, her magic tightening like a perfectly strung bow.

Finally, after days of experimentation, she looked at the new scroll Zephyr handed her, mentally—a blueprint of the Mystic Severance Trap.

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