So this curse, too, first pointed at Prince Changping.

Though he was a local grasshead king, though as the grasshead kings of the realm dwindled their mandate grew ever heavier, though he sat surrounded by thirty thousand elite soldiers so even ghostly gods could hardly invade, under this curse he still died without a sound, without knowing why.

He didn't even get the chance to struggle once, to say a few last words.

The chance to say a few words—and as for the other Generals and advisers, they purely died for having followed the wrong man.

The common folk knew there was a Prince Changping, but how would they know what Prince Changping actually looked like?

These Generals and advisers who were cursed to death along with him were the ones who had shown their faces and been remembered by the people; because you're a high official, they take you for Prince Changping.

As long as your face had once been remembered, then now, the curse would find you along with him.

"Splash..."

In an instant, this vast army suddenly fell into chaos; Prince Changping, who had planned to let the surplus army rout first and win without fighting, had never thought that the first to rout would actually be his own side.

The Commanders from all quarters, the various leaders, even the ordinary troops, all at this moment felt that stifling, gloomy air, as if formless black qi were constantly chasing at their backs.

Panic in their hearts mounted; once their courage began to shrink, they couldn't control it anymore, and it would vanish outright.

The noble gentlemen of the great families who had come to attend the banquet couldn't stop themselves from trembling all over, overturning the low tables, crawling on the ground, clutching at the Zhuzi to haul themselves up. Some only cared to wrap their arms around their heads and run, not knowing where they were running to, only that they had to flee.

Some had on them protective treasures, or pond ash preserved from their ancestors at home, and desperately hauled them out.

But all around, the yin wind grew stronger, sweeping across the entire camp.

In the hollow night, it was as if strips and strands of faint, indistinct black lines were drooping from the sky.

The protective items they had just raised in their hands shattered the instant they were produced, and the pond ash, which they had brought out with shaking hands, immediately began seeping and spilling out from their pouches.

No matter how they cupped their hands around it, they could not stop the pond ash from scattering. To be seated at this feast, they were all great households; their ancestors had long been nourished by incense offerings and were very efficacious—yet now they could not exert the least effect.

It fluttered and scattered and vanished from sight.

At last someone with a bit more nerve realized that this was an unprecedented, heaven-toppling calamity, and tore his throat shouting:

"Quick, quickly invite the masters of the Chen Family of Black Magic to save us..."

"..."

"..."

"How could it be like this?"

Yet at this very moment, within the Chen Family of Black Magic, in an old manor built deep in the mountains, its surroundings thick with cobwebs, there also rang out a nearly off-key cry of shock that shook the whole compound.

In the main hall of this old manor, several candles as thick as a child's arm were set at the four corners; their flames burned green and cast light on a few silhouettes seated in Taishi Chairs, and also lit up the five iron coffins standing upright in the hall.

The five iron coffins were already rusted, caked with wet mud, as if freshly dug from the earth.

And within that army camp, when Prince Changping suddenly died and the camp fell into chaos, the yin wind also blew into this Manor.

The dense black threads in the air were ten, a hundred times thicker than in the camp, reverberating through the hall along with those faint, indistinct curses.

In the hall, seven clan members of the Chen Family, four Hall Officers, and all the living-ghost servants and yin soul Maids serving here, all felt an all-over unease as the yin wind picked up, their skin creepy and prickling, as if something were covering their heads.

This was being overshadowed.

When ordinary folk are struck by a curse, they may not be of the Path, but when the Magic of the curse descends upon them, they too will feel as if there is something veiling them, making them uncomfortable everywhere.

The Chen Family of Black Magic were all people of the Path, and naturally they understood this feeling even better, but their first reaction was disbelief; they had never believed that a curse could actually fall upon themselves.

As they lost control of their voices, everyone's gaze turned toward one particular coffin in the hall.

It was one of the five iron coffins, containing a flying corpse under a Corpse Spell—the only one of the five great Corpse Spells that had already been awakened.

Now, clearly no one was driving it, yet the coffin was inexplicably shuddering, the lid bouncing up and down, as if something inside was in a hurry to leap out.

The pressure all around grew ever heavier, the yin wind ever more ferocious, the temperature lower and lower. Suddenly, the coffin lid was shoved aside by a tremendous force, and a rotting corpse inside half-sat up.

Yet in that very instant, as the yin wind reached its peak, this rotting corpse, struggling to sit fully upright, actually failed.

It could make no sound; only its body trembled continuously.

Gradually, black viscous fluid seeped out from all over its body, and little by little melted into a puddle of juice.

"Why..."

Staring at the Corpse Spell inside the iron coffin, a man in black robes, sitting on a cushion to the side, forced himself to press down something roiling inside his body and spoke in a trembling voice: "Why would... would it be like this? Someone has actually... borrowed a curse to suppress a Corpse Spell, I... I..."

He was the Divine Fragrance Hall Official of the Chen Family of Black Magic. In this jianghu, the Chen clan's Black Magic had always been low-key, but their business and foundations were truly substantial.

As the Divine Fragrance Hall Official, wherever he went he received the utmost respect; even when he met disciples of the Ten Great Surnames he could remain standing as he spoke, let alone that his Black Magic had long since reached Shangqiao. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

One who has reached Shangqiao can be called a Demi Immortal; evil spirits and ghostly gods alike must shy away at the sight of him.