The Lion Dance Palace

The moment Li Huowang spoke, everyone moved. Clutching various weapons, they followed him in a frantic dash toward the speck of light above.

His eyes swept in all directions, his ears strained for every sound—alert for Han Fu lurking in the shadows, while pushing with all his might toward the exit.

The instant Han Fu vanished into the darkness, every patch of blackness around them suddenly felt lethally dangerous.

That two-headed Daoist had already recognized him as a Heart-Element. There was no way he would let things end here.

A comrade who had seemed perfectly reliable moments ago had now become a terrifying adversary. When it came to dealing with their own kind, humans were always more proficient than any evil spirit.

“There’s no real good person in this godforsaken place! Every last one of them is a twisted lunatic! No better than animals!”

Gradually, the distant light grew closer. It pushed back the darkness behind them, dispersing the tenebrous murk that clung to them like a second skin. For a moment, everyone felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

Casting aside their heavy dread, they rushed with exhilaration toward the dazzling radiance, ready to embrace it.

But gradually, their sprint slowed to a jog, the jog fell to a walk, and eventually every single person came to a complete halt.

Each of them stared in terror and despair at the increasingly clear “sunlight” before them.

The light was impure. It was shot through with countless impurities. Mingled with the glow were dense clusters of human hands and human feet.

A jade plaque hung above that mass of light, inscribed with three large characters: Lion Dance Palace.

That wasn’t the sunlight of an exit at all! It was the stronghold of the Lion-Masks: the Lion Dance Palace!

The light itself was an effect—so many Lion-Masks from before had gathered together that the glow inside their bodies intermingled, forming this false radiance.

The “exit” Han Fu had described was an utter lie! That two-headed Daoist had meant them harm from the very start.

Huuuuuh… huuuuuh…

Hearing the commotion, one grotesque giant face after another rolled upright, blocking the light source. Those enormous dead-faces lined up side by side, and before Li Huowang they assembled into a terrifying wall of visages.

Each face was as large as a banquet table, and the eyes—the size of lanterns—fixed on Li Huowang. The pressure was almost solid, crushing the breath out of everyone.

This was no longer just one or two. There were at least a hundred Lion-Masks packed into this space.

Li Huowang had killed two of them before. He knew exactly what kind of force they represented.

“RUN!!”

Almost before the word left his mouth, everyone pivoted and plunged back into the boundless darkness.

Li Huowang glanced at the Lion-Masks swarming in from the ceiling, the walls, the ground—a tide closing in from every direction. He knew that blind flight wouldn’t work. Someone had to hold the line.

With that thought, he planted his feet. Once the others had put some distance between themselves and him, he raised his sword one-handed and aimed it at his own body.

But in the next instant, a figure burst out of the shadows and interrupted his move.

He held a single bronze-coin sword, three yellow talismans fixed to its tip, and thrust it straight at Li Huowang’s waist.

CLANG!

Yellow talismans scattered. Steel met steel, and sparks flew. The figure was none other than Han Fu.

Yet as soon as they clashed, Han Fu didn’t press the fight. His two faces—one large, one small—twisted into the same sinister grin. He stomped his black-cloth shoes against the ground and instantly shrank back into the darkness.

Before Li Huowang could figure out what the man was up to, alarm bells screamed in his heart. He threw himself forward, barely dodging a volley of white tassels flying from the direction of the Lion-Masks.

So that was Han Fu’s game. The bastard had never intended to trade blows with Li Huowang. He was just harassing him, trying to let the Lion-Masks do the killing.

And he had succeeded. The Lion-Masks were already dangerously close. One by one, their enormous circular faces flipped open, revealing maws lined with six rows of teeth, and lunged down to engulf Li Huowang.

His left foot hadn’t fully healed yet. In terms of speed, there was no way he could outrun these things—whatever they were, human or monster.

Li Huowang glanced back into the darkness. The others were out of sight. A grim resolve hardened in his heart. He pulled a flint from his pocket and pressed it against his own skin.

At that critical moment—

The familiar beat of a drum rang out.

A red figure charged in on all fours. The兽头 shaped from a red bridal veil opened wide and clamped onto Li Huowang’s neck, then dragged him into the darkness behind.

Moving on all fours, Bai Lingmiao was astonishingly agile. Carrying Li Huowang didn’t slow her down at all.

With her help, Li Huowang rapidly pulled away from the pursuing Lion-Masks.

White tassels flew after them to block the retreat, but Li Huowang intercepted them with teeth he plucked from his own mouth. The price he paid for that defense was that half his teeth were now gone.

No sooner had he escaped one danger than a new one arrived. A bronze-coin sword, topped with talismans, erupted from the ground right beneath where Li Huowang was being dragged, stabbing at an angle toward his back.

Just as it was about to strike, Li Huowang—who had shown no reaction until then—abruptly twisted his hand, gripped both hands around his sword hilt, and drove the blade straight into the earth.

The peculiar sensation transmitted through the hilt told him he had hit Han Fu. The killing intent in his eyes flared sharper. “Try to ambush me again? You think the same trick will work twice?!”

He thrust down once more, then yanked the blade out. Crimson blood rode the sword up from the soil, and a pained grunt came from beneath the ground.

But from the bleeding wound in the earth, the bronze-coin sword—now drenched in blood and topped with talismans—thrust out again.

Li Huowang raised his own sword to parry, but to his surprise, a peculiar incantation rose from Han Fu inside the dirt. “唵赦哒裟哩光樽攝!”

The moment the words were spoken, the bronze-coin sword—bound with red string—scattered. The coins separated into individual pieces, slipping easily past Li Huowang’s blade, then reassembled, still mixed with talismans.

The sharp-edged coins, with yellow talismans pressed against them, drove straight into Li Huowang’s side. With continued force, the talismans were shoved inch by inch into his flesh.

The searing pain tore a roar from Li Huowang. He stopped trying to block. Instead, he lifted his sword and stabbed wildly into the ground, making it clear he was ready to trade his life for Han Fu’s.

As they both retreated at speed, their blood mingled together.

Not long after, Han Fu under the earth gave in first. He pulled his blade back and vanished underground.

Han Fu repelled for now, Bai Lingmiao continued dragging Li Huowang through a maze of caverns and rocky passages. She couldn’t stop—the Lion-Masks were still in hot pursuit.

And compared to the sneaky Han Fu, those things were far more deadly.