The Loyal Servant

"Tuoba, calm down!"

Seeing this, Cangming quickly split off a wave to help block the malevolent ghosts attacking from the side.

"We can't get out. Unless the Golden Buddha rules are broken, no one can leave!"

"Then what do we do?! What about Xiaoyun?!"

Tuoba Feng turned back and roared, his eyes bloodshot, looking as if they might actually drip blood.

Cangming opened his mouth but didn't know how to answer.

He himself was burning with anxiety, worrying about the Eastern Region and his father, but he was equally powerless.

High in the sky, Chen Zhou's ghost domain had suppressed the Judge, and he successfully ignited the fourth Dragon-Suppressing Stake.

He was about to press his advantage when he suddenly felt something and looked down.

He saw Cangming's grief and despair, and Tuoba Feng's panic and madness.

Combined with the fragments of conversation he had overheard earlier and the abnormal fluctuations currently coming from the ley lines, Chen Zhou instantly guessed the reason.

Taking advantage of the interval before the next Dragon-Suppressing Stake appeared, Chen Zhou's figure blurred, landing near Cangming and Tuoba Feng.

With a wave of his hand, the greyish-white Domain of Defiled Earth expanded, temporarily isolating them from the swarming malevolent ghosts and black-spot monsters.

"You want to go back?"

Seeing Chen Zhou, Cangming felt as if he had found his pillar of support. He knelt on one knee with a thud, his voice choked with emotion.

"Lord! The Eastern Region is in danger, my father..."

Halfway through his sentence, he forced himself to stop.

His father had told him to help the Dragon Ancestor seize the Golden Buddha and not to neglect public duty for private matters.

He couldn't—he must not—ask the lord to go save the Eastern Region now.

Cangming grit his teeth and changed his words: "Cangming does not dare!

"Cangming is willing to die for the Dragon Ancestor to help the lord seize the Golden Buddha!"

"The matter of the Eastern Region... after the lord succeeds, then..."

He couldn't continue. He lowered his head deeply, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Chen Zhou glanced at him without saying anything, then turned his gaze toward Tuoba Feng.

Tuoba Feng gripped his blade tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms until blood flowed.

Meeting Chen Zhou's gaze, he didn't hesitate for a second and spoke bluntly: "Yes."

"Exalted One, I want to go back."

"I want to return to the Western Region to save my daughter, Xiaoyun."

His eyes held a plea that bordered on humble: "I beg the Exalted One to let me out."

"Or, tell me how to get out."

Chen Zhou was silent for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"You can't leave."

"The struggle for the Golden Buddha hasn't been decided yet. The rules have locked this place down, and even I cannot open it."

Hearing this, the light in Tuoba Feng's eyes dimmed into grey.

"Then... Xiaoyun..."

He stumbled back a step, as if all his strength had been drained.

"Don't be so quick to despair."

Chen Zhou's tone shifted.

"Since we can't leave because the winner hasn't been decided..."

"Then wouldn't it be fine if we just make the Golden Buddha rules take effect as quickly as possible by deciding the winner?"

Chen Zhou's gaze pierced through the layers of ghostly shadows, locking onto Yin Wudao, who had been hiding behind the old eunuch.

"I just finished dealing with a Dragon-Suppressing Stake, so I have a moment."

"The Judge is like a tortoise shell; he can't be killed in a short time."

"But the person who summoned him... is not."

"This Golden Buddha competition will ultimately be a final showdown between me and Yin Wudao."

"As long as I kill him, I win."

Before his voice had even faded, a pale bone spear suddenly condensed in Chen Zhou's hand.

Hatred Fire burned at the tip, and lethal poison flowed along the shaft.

"Yin Wudao, it's time to go!"

The bone spear tore through the air, letting out a shrill whistle as it shot directly toward Yin Wudao.

Yin Wudao was currently entangled by several malevolent ghosts, struggling desperately and looking utterly pathetic.

The black light that had been able to shatter bone spears earlier was entirely due to the Judge residing in his left eye—that power did not belong to him.

Though he also had a seventh-stage cultivation, the majority of his skills lay in political schemes and the gifts from the Judge in his eye.

His own actual combat ability could only be considered average among top-tier experts.

Now that the Judge had left his body and he had been heavily drained by the ghost tide, he was already at the end of his rope.

The moment the bone spear approached, Yin Wudao felt a chill rush from his tailbone straight to the top of his head, as the shadow of death suddenly loomed over him.

He couldn't block it!

In that lightning-fast moment, a flash of ruthlessness crossed Yin Wudao's eyes.

He suddenly reached out, grabbed the blood-covered old eunuch who had been protecting his side, and pulled with all his might!

"Liu Banban!"

Yin Wudao barked, using the old eunuch as a meat shield, dragging him directly in front of himself to face the bone spear.

Caught off guard, the old eunuch stumbled from the pull, right into the path of that incoming lethal strike.

He froze for a second, a look of bewilderment flashing in his old eyes, as if he hadn't realized what had happened.

"Banban, since you are my personal eunuch and have accompanied me since childhood..."

"You said you were willing to do anything for me."

"Now I need you. Don't blame me for being heartless!"

"Only if you die can I live."

"Once I become a god, I will remember your contribution."

When the old eunuch looked back and saw Yin Wudao hiding behind him, his remaining right eye overflowing with a desperate will to survive, the old eunuch suddenly understood.

The wrinkles on his aged face suddenly smoothed out, revealing a smile of resignation.

So... that's how it is.

His highness needed him.

Just like countless times before.

He didn't struggle at all. Instead, he went with Yin Wudao's force, spreading his arms and gently wrapping them around Yin Wudao's head, shielding him tightly in his embrace.

It was just like many years ago when the mischievous little prince had caused trouble and hidden in his arms.

This movement was one he had done for hundreds of years; it was already engraved into his very bones.

"There is no need for your highness to explain."

The old eunuch's voice was very soft, shrill and thin.

"This old slave understands everything."

"Your highness also doesn't need to feel guilty."

"This old slave's life was given by your highness to begin with."

The ruthlessness in Yin Wudao's eyes hadn't yet faded, but upon hearing these words, his pupils suddenly shrank slightly, and some buried memories surged forth uncontrollably.

His birth mother had died young, and his father was busy with state affairs, cold and strict.

The vast imperial palace was frigid and empty.

From the moment he could remember, the one accompanying him was this silent old eunuch.

He called him "Liu Banban."

Liu Banban was responsible for his daily life, dressing him, combing his hair, and accompanying him during his studies.

Once, he had been mischievous and broken his father's precious gathering yin cup.

Liu Banban had knelt outside the hall for three days and nights, kowtowing to beg for forgiveness. He had taken the blame and endured thirty strikes of the court rods, nearly losing half his life.

When he was a youth with many worries and couldn't sleep at night, he would sit on the steps and watch the moon.

Back then, the provincial capital wasn't yet the Ghost Dynasty. There was no Night Parade of a Hundred Ghosts, and one could still see the bright moon in the sky.

Liu Banban would silently stay by his side, holding an outer robe, waiting for him to tire of watching before gently draping it over his shoulders.

When he was made crown prince, various forces moved in the shadows, and his brothers watched him like hawks.

He was terrified and anxious, plagued by nightmares every night.

Liu Banban would guard outside his sleeping quarters. That hunched figure was always like the most loyal old watchdog, giving him a sliver of peace.

The first time he personally executed a political rival and turned a man into a ghost, he had returned to vomit until he was dizzy, his hands shaking.

Liu Banban brought warm water to wash him, said nothing, and only gently patted his back.

Later, his methods grew more ruthless and his heart grew deeper. The ghosts in the provincial capital increased, and the number of people flattering him grew.

Only Liu Banban continued to follow him in silence, handling those filthy matters that could never see the light of day. The blood on the eunuch's hands was likely even more than that of the prince himself.