Despite Lin Shaobin’s quick response, the situation was far from optimistic.
A burly man, suffering a severe case of the affliction, suddenly broke free from those holding him down.
His eyes had turned completely milky white, and a low growl that didn't sound human escaped his lips.
Following this, milky-white, vascular grids began to seep slowly from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
"No! Stop!"
The man seemed to regain a sliver of consciousness, letting out a desperate howl as his hands clawed frantically at his face.
But the white grid was incredibly tough. The moment it touched the air, it grew and spread wildly like living vines, instantly coiling around his neck, then his torso, and finally his limbs.
It wasn't just in the temporary medical area. The sleepwalkers wandering outside, who had yet to be effectively contained, seemed to receive a unified command, wailing in agony at the exact same time.
Non-human howls echoed from every corner of the outer city district.
The walking sleepwalkers halted, their bodies twitching and contorting unnaturally.
Milky-white vessels erupted from their seven orifices.
They were like living creatures, rapidly wrapping around and enveloping their hosts. In just a few breaths, a living human body was transformed into a shimmering, giant cocoon.
The rapidly growing vascular grids covered the ground and the walls.
This mutation was like a spreading plague. With the appearance of the first giant cocoon, more howls erupted throughout the streets as white grids surged from the orifices of more sleepwalkers.
"Stop them!"
A small-time leader from the Zhang family shouted himself hoarse, commanding the guards and lone cultivators under his lead.
Master Zhang didn't know why such a mutation had occurred, but it was clearly a bad omen.
He drew his blade and was the first to charge in.
The Zhang family guards and lone cultivators followed suit, attempting to hack through the growing white grids and pull out those who hadn't been fully enveloped.
The flashes of blades and swords collided with the grids erupting from the human bodies, causing spiritual power to splatter everywhere.
The white grids were not only extremely tough but also seemed to possess a strange power.
Once entangled, not only was the body bound, but the mind would quickly sink, and movements would become sluggish.
Once a giant cocoon formed, it would emit a layer of dazzling radiance.
If a living person was touched by this dreamlight, it would transmit a sense of grogginess and disorientation like a contagion.
Several guards who had charged too far ahead were merely grazed by the dreamlight, and their eyes instantly became hollow. Their movements slowed, and they were immediately swallowed by the surging white grids!
Screams, roars, the clashing of weapons, and the rustling sound of the growing white grids…
All sorts of sounds mixed together, turning the once-silent night into a living purgatory.
Master Zhang swung his blade, its wind sharp as he severed one grid after another that tried to coil around him.
However, the servants and lone cultivators by his side were constantly dwindling.
They were either assimilated, with grids sprouting from their orifices to form cocoons, or their movements became distorted under the influence of the dreamlight, allowing them to be dragged away by the grids.
An old guest elder who had followed Master Zhang for many years pushed a young guard out of the way to save him from the grids, only to be instantly swallowed by countless white strands himself.
The old guest elder only had time to let out a short scream before transforming into a new white cocoon.
Master Zhang was covered in blood, most of it being the pus that splattered when he severed the grids.
He brandished his long blade, the wind from his strikes creating a temporary vacuum around him, but the white grids were as inexhaustible as the tide.
The kinsmen and lone cultivators beside him vanished one by one, turning into those heart-wrenching white protrusions on the street.
A deep sense of powerlessness welled up in his heart. Was Lantao City… truly doomed tonight?
Just as Master Zhang was nearing exhaustion.
Boom—!
An explosion erupted from the other end of the street, instantly drowning out the chaotic noise of the battlefield.
Accompanying the thunderous sound was a surge of vigorous and majestic essence blood power.
The crowd looked on in shock as a golden figure smashed into the center of the battlefield like a falling star. Upon landing, the solid ground cracked inch by inch around him, sending rubble flying.
As the dust settled, the figure of the newcomer was revealed.
It was Shitou.
He was still wearing that ancient-looking bone armor.
But now, the shimmering white glow on the armor complemented the essence blood boiling around him like a dragon.
In Shitou's hand was a thick bone blade as wide as a door panel, now enveloped in a golden astral qi so condensed it felt solid, emitting a low hum.
Facing the surging white grids ahead, Shitou's eyes were calm, without a trace of fear. Instead, he took a step forward and roared.
"Tiangang — Evil-Slaying Strike!"
The sound waves rolled out like a clap of thunder on a clear day.
The muscles in his arms bulged. With terrifying physical strength, the bone blade in his hand turned into a golden lightning bolt that tore through the night.
Before the blade even arrived, the golden blade qi erupted first!
A massive, crescent-shaped blade qi swept across the ground like a heatwave over snow. Wherever it passed, the once-tough white grids instantly dissolved, leaving pus and blood flowing everywhere.
Even several white cocoons that were about to finish forming were directly torn apart and crushed by this peerless blade astral qi, turning into ash that scattered in the wind.
"It's the lord from Heart's Desire Hall!" someone cheered.
"Fantastic! Lord Shitou is here!"
Shitou's arrival greatly reduced the pressure on Master Zhang.
The remaining resistors felt their spirits lift and began to gather toward Shitou.
In the night sky, at some point, white flakes began to drift down.
It wasn't actual snow, but pieces of white paper, crudely cut with rough edges.
The paper snow fell from the pitch-black sky.
At first, it was just a few scattered pieces, but it soon grew denser, like a heavy snowfall, shrouding the blood-splattered battlefield in pure white.
"What… what kind of hellish thing is this now?"
A Zhang family guard, panting heavily after hacking through a white grid, watched a piece of paper land on his shoulder, his voice numb.
However, these paper pieces seemed to harbor no ill intent.
They drifted lightly onto the ground, the roofs, and the writhing, struggling white cocoons.
Immediately after, the fallen paper pieces seemed to be folded by invisible, skilled hands, rapidly expanding and deforming.
In the blink of an eye, they transformed into one flat humanoid figure after another.
Most of these paper people wore the uniform of a certain immortal sect, with their facial features crudely sketched in ink lines on their heads.
Though they looked simple, their movements were exceptionally agile.
"Ouch, so this is Lantao City? Why is it so dark and dreary!"
"Which jerk folded me so ugly? One leg is longer than the other!"
"Hiss— it stinks. Why did I grow out of pus? I'm filthy now, what bad luck."
"Look over there! So many living people! And many… uh, half-dead people?"
As soon as the paper people appeared, they began to chatter and complain. Their tones were lively and quirky, completely at odds with the tragic atmosphere of the scene.
Some curiously poked the white grids on the ground with their fingers, only to jump back in fright when the grids writhed.
Others huddled together, pointing and gesturing at a mutating sleepwalker as if they were observing some novel species.
Master Zhang and the remaining defenders were dazed, the small spark of hope that had just been lit being instantly replaced by vigilance.
What kind of evil spirit was this now?
Could they be monsters born from those white grids?
"Form ranks! Watch out for these paper people!"
Master Zhang forced himself to take a deep breath and shouted sternly. The remaining guards immediately tightened their defensive line, staring tensely at these uninvited guests.
"Don't panic, they're on our side," Shitou said, continuing to fight the white cocoons with his blade, offering a word of reassurance to Master Zhang.
As if hearing Master Zhang's shout, the newly formed Jiang Ziang turned around, looking at him with eyes that lacked pupils, and explained.
"Don't worry, senior. We are disciples of the Corpse Soul Sect, and we have come to provide support by order of the Lord Bone God."
He waved his paper arm and shouted to the other paper people who were still looking around.
"Stop standing around! Can't you see they're about to buckle over here? Get to work!"
"You got it, Senior Brother."
"Coming, coming."
"Form the array, form the array! Summon our old buddies to stretch their bones!"
The paper people immediately stopped their fooling around and quickly took their positions. They pulled out their respective small clay jars.
Talismans outlined in spiritual qi lit up beneath their feet, connecting into a formation diagram.
"The Underworld has order; malevolent ghosts, obey my command! Appear!"
With Jiang Ziang's decree, black smoke billowed from the formation diagram. One by one, terrifying ghosts with green faces and fangs, their bodies wreathed in countless shadows of resentful souls, were summoned.
Because their masters had already become eerie creations, the malevolent ghosts were actually unaffected by the weird dreamlight.
The various malevolent ghosts pounced directly onto the grids, tearing them apart with sharp claws or devouring them with wide-open maws.
The paper snow in the sky continued to fall.
When those seemingly fragile pieces of paper touched the white grids, they made a sizzling, burning sound. The white grids seemed to have met their nemesis, rapidly shrinking and retreating.
"It's working! These things can suppress the white grids!" a lone cultivator shouted in surprise.
While controlling the malevolent ghosts to fight, the paper people began to actively tighten the defensive line.
They moved swiftly, utilizing the lightweight nature of the paper to weave through the battlefield, escorting the isolated guards and lone cultivators back behind the main defensive line one by one.
"Big brother, retreat this way. Yes, slowly, don't step on my feet."
"You big guy, don't just stand there hacking. Shrink the defense, yeah, just stand behind us."
"Seniors, work harder! Once we're done with this job, we'll get Lord Jian to treat us to drinks!"
The paper pieces drifted down. Some white grids that were accidentally covered by a large amount of paper suddenly slowed their writhing.
The originally milky-white grids began to turn ash-grey and eventually stiffened completely, as if their life force had been drained, turning into a pile of withered paper.
In the place where these papers were most densely stacked, the flakes automatically converged and assembled…
The white paper gradually took a human shape. It was a young man with a giant sword on his back, wearing paper armor.
He stood tall, his gaze like ten-thousand-year-old ice, and his entire body radiated a cold sword intent.
Just by standing there, he seemed to be the absolute core of the paper army. All the fluttering paper snow seemed to bow slightly toward him.
As soon as Jian Huaishuang landed, his gaze swept over the chaotic battlefield before finally resting on the struggling Master Zhang. He gave a slight nod as a greeting.
Then, he reached back and gripped the hilt of the giant sword on his back.
"Slash!" Jian Huaishuang barked.
In an instant, a clanging sound like the striking of metal rang out.
There was no earth-shattering sword light, only a vast, sea-like cold sword intent that rippled out from him like thunder.
Everywhere the sword intent passed, the dreamlight on the giant cocoons instantly dimmed.
Any white grid touched by the sword qi snapped inch by inch like shattered ice, turning into ash.
The power of a single strike had directly cleared a massive area.
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