HCAW 78

Chapter 78: Nightmare That Devours the Soul

Darkness stretched endlessly in all directions.

The sea wind howled. Shadows of clouds loomed overhead. There was no sound of life anywhere. The soldiers of Lei Ze Camp and Qingyu Gao Palace, Fang Jingyu, Chu Kuang—all had vanished, as if melted into this abyssal night.

What was going on? And what had Chu Kuang meant earlier by “nightmare”? Yu Ji Guard was filled with questions, but for now, his only concern was to escape this place.

That the dignified Yu Ji Guard had to flee from a group of common soldiers—it was laughable. Yet at this moment, his body was rotting from overindulging in Immortal Elixir. A mere breeze could knock him off his feet. He could hear the sound of his own flesh falling away. Before long, his arms were bare bones. The pain was intense—but it offered a chance. With the loosening of flesh, the chains around him slackened, and he slipped free. The laborers who’d held the chains seemed to have vanished. No one noticed his escape.

Yu Ji Guard stumbled forward, heading toward Qingyu Gao Palace. But his way was blocked by a giant ship. He tried to move it as he once could, but when he raised his hand, all he saw were two bare white bones.

Terror gripped him. He needed to find medicine, bind his wounds, return to the golden splendor of Qingyu Gao Palace. Just a day ago, he had beauties by his side, soft pillows, warm embraces. All of it now seemed unreachable. After a few more steps, he was already gasping—he was no longer a warrior, but a broken, dying old man.

Suddenly, a fierce gust hit him.

Yu Ji Guard felt something bite into his flesh—an unbearable pain. He screamed, “Who’s there!”

He reached down. His leg was wet. He raised his fingers to his nose—blood. Something had bitten a chunk out of him.

Yu Ji Guard was horrified. In this darkness, he couldn’t see what had attacked him. Was it human? Beast? Ghost? Everything felt like his enemy.

Now he understood why people feared the long night—within darkness lurked countless unknown horrors. Again, he cried out. Something bit deep into him—a vicious beast tearing into his wound. He screamed, feeling as if a pack of starving wolves had descended on him, gnawing at his flesh, trying to bleed him dry.

Escape! He had no choice now but to flee blindly.

He struck out in all directions—but hit nothing. The beasts were phantoms. He tried to run—but his aging body failed him. Even a short distance left him breathless. He slipped on bridges, staggered down roadways, but the beasts followed him everywhere, biting and tearing. He had always hated the dark—it reminded him of the black robes of the silver-masked man. Now, surrounded by gloom, it felt as though those eyes watched him from every direction, always closing in. He trembled at the thought.

Then he saw it: a break in the darkness, a single red lantern glowing in the far distance. A sharp, blood-colored pinprick—the only light in this world of black.

Unconsciously, he ran toward it. Along the way, more unseen beasts bit into him. But as he neared the light, they vanished. Looking down, Yu Ji Guard saw his body covered in wounds—not bite marks, but cuts and gashes from blades and axes. He burst into laughter.

“A pack of damn monkeys! Pretending to be ghosts and spirits! Clearly a group of people hiding in the dark, attacking me! If anyone dares face me again, I’ll tear them limb from limb!”

He shouted into the night—but the darkness didn’t flinch. Feeling proud, Yu Ji Guard thought: they’re afraid to strike once I’m in the light. So he planted himself there, determined to see which cowards would dare show their faces.

But time passed—and no sound came. He continued to bleed. He knew he couldn’t stay here long, yet he didn’t dare return to the dark. The lantern swayed, casting a blood-red glow. Cold wind circled him. It felt as though he were the only living being left.

Then he heard the buzzing of flies. He turned—and saw something on the bridge beneath the lantern.

Yu Ji Guard’s brow furrowed deeply. He slowly approached. The flies scattered with a buzz, revealing a blood-soaked face beneath.

Old skin, white hair, closed eyes—his own face.

In that instant, it was as if lightning struck his mind.

Why was his severed head here? He touched his neck—his head was still attached, though wounded. But… was he even alive now? Had he died already? Was this all a glimpse into the hell of the underworld?

No wonder he hadn’t seen a single living soul. No wonder the ghosts—those reapers—kept chasing him, no matter how he ran. Suddenly, all the strange things made sense. Yu Ji Guard was gripped by terror and shouted into the void.

All was pitch-black—except for that one red glow. He couldn’t see anything else. Then he recalled what fishermen had once said about the anglerfish: a deep-sea predator with a glowing lure. Small fish were drawn to the light—only to be swallowed whole.

Now he was that small fish—lured by the glow into a death trap.

Then, from the path ahead came a sound: footsteps. Tap. Tap. Clear and slow.

Yu Ji Guard froze, forgetting to flee. He stared at the sound.

A shadow emerged from the dark, bathed in crimson light. Robed in black, lean in frame, wearing a slight smile—it was Chu Kuang.

Seeing him, Yu Ji Guard actually felt relief. “So it was you, little pest! All your tricks and illusions!”

Chu Kuang smiled softly. “What tricks, my lord? Why would I need to pretend?”

“You staged all this to frighten me, didn’t you? That severed head must be some prop, painted to look like me.” Yu Ji Guard kicked the head on the ground.

“You’re joking, my lord,” Chu Kuang said calmly. “Your courage dwarfs the heavens—I’d never bother trying to scare you. This is the underworld. No matter how you run, you won’t return to the land of the living.”

Suddenly, a cold wind roared. The red lantern quivered wildly, its light twisting and flickering. Yu Ji Guard looked around and was horrified to see figures emerging from the darkness—thousands upon thousands, each dressed differently: some in green, some in red, some old, some young. But every face bore Chu Kuang’s features.

Yu Ji Guard involuntarily murmured, “Don’t come any closer.”

But the Chu Kuangs did not stop—instead, they closed in, one by one, wielding fish spears, hooked nets, cleavers. Grinning savagely, they raised their weapons. Countless blades rained down on Yu Ji Guard. Only then did he realize the true form of the beasts that had devoured him in the dark—they were furious Chu Kuangs, hacking and slicing him to pieces.

He finally screamed in madness and turned to flee the flood of bodies. He didn’t know how long he ran in the blackness before he saw a girl ahead, stringing a glowing Jin Pugu arrow to her bow. She smiled at him.

He fled in terror toward the opposite dark—only to find a man in black robes and a silver mask standing there, holding the Chengying Sword like an executioner summoned for punishment.

“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” Yu Ji Guard cried. But then a thought struck him—seeing these people… perhaps he had already died. Perhaps everything since had been punishment in the afterlife.

He turned and ran again, slashed dozens of times more. Eventually he realized—this was a torture rack. He had been tied there, enduring the agonies of dismemberment.

Crossing another bridge, he stumbled into a youth in embroidered robes of bamboo pattern—Fang Jingyu. Yu Ji Guard tensed. Fang Jingyu weighed the Vipashiyin Blade in his hand, then shifted aside and said coldly, “Go on. I’m not your worst enemy.”

By now, Yu Ji Guard was utterly spent, trapped in a nightmare maze with no way out. Exhausted, he dragged himself forward—and saw a light ahead. He ran toward it, body leaden—and saw the same red lantern, swaying bloodily, with the same Chu Kuang standing beneath it.

Chu Kuang smiled. “Back again, my lord? Looks like you’re ready to meet the Fifth Hall King of Hell.” ¹One of the Ten Courts of Hell (十殿閻羅) in Chinese folk religion and Daoist-Buddhist syncretic beliefs, particularly in depictions of the underworld (Diyu / 地獄). Souls judged here may face punishments for sins such as: Unfilial behavior Injustice Lies, slander, or perjury Corruption or abuse of power. Punishments: being thrown into pits of knives climbing trees with sword-blade leaves (the “Sword Trees” mentioned earlier) Having tongues pulled out or being dismembered Roasting, flaying, or disembowelment

Yu Ji Guard screamed and fled. But no matter how wildly he ran, he could not escape. He always circled back to that red lantern, where Chu Kuang stood with hands behind his back. Each time he returned, new wounds marked his body.

At last, he could run no longer. Looking down, his flesh was shredded, his skin flayed as if by knives. Crawling in agony, he returned once more beneath the red light. Chu Kuang was no longer there—only the lantern glowed, flickering like a bloody eye watching him.

“Come out! Come out now!”

The old man roared at last, unable to hold back.

“You damned wretch! If you’ve got the guts, kill me with one blow! I am the proud leader of the Xian Mountain Guards, the mighty Yu Ji Guard! Show yourself like a man—let me rip you limb from limb!”

He shouted for who knew how long, but no one came. He bled endlessly, like a broken-winged moth pinned in the rain, struggling in vain. The once-mighty Yu Ji Guard could only lie there, lashed by wind and rain, consumed by terror, bleeding to death.

Faint and dazed, his vision clouded with mist and shadow, he sensed the beasts return—biting, tearing, stabbing, chopping him again and again. He screamed in despair.

Then he saw at the edge of the darkness a youth standing—black robe, pale face, watching coldly like a soul reaper. Yu Ji Guard howled hoarsely, “You got your revenge! Are you satisfied?!”

The youth’s expression remained icy. “What good is it if only I’m satisfied? You’ve wronged many. Only if they’re all appeased can justice be done. Those who do evil will destroy themselves. That’s the truth of your downfall today.”

“King Yama… King Yama! I won’t let you off!”

The youth’s face did not change. “Since the day you took me nine years ago, I became a ghost in heart. Now you’ve entered the underworld, I’m your junior. Don’t worry—oil cauldrons and sword trees await you. But before you die, I have one question.”

He looked around. “You’ve killed so many. The people standing by your side now are all those you once wronged. Do you even remember their names?”

Yu Ji Guard looked up—and saw a crowd of faces surrounding him. But they all looked the same: pallid skin, one pair of cold eyes—one of them a blood-red double pupil.

He laughed hysterically. “There’s no crowd! It’s all you! All of you—you! You ghastly, vengeful thing!”

He threw his head back in wild laughter, his eyes twitching with madness. The youth sighed, crouched down, and grabbed him by the hair.

“Looks like you’ve drunk too much Immortal Elixir. You can’t tell anymore. Then just remember one name.”

“Who are you…” Yu Ji Guard muttered. The Elixir had turned his mind to mush—he couldn’t even remember his own name. But he remembered his fear of this youth. The youth said nothing, only stared silently.

Suddenly, Yu Ji Guard laughed again. “I remember! You’re… you’re… the King Yama!”

The youth was silent. Yu Ji Guard hesitated, trying to think, coughing blood. “You… you had another name… it was… Chu… Chu Kuang…”

Still the youth said nothing. His gaze was cold as ice. Above, the red lantern swung madly, like the hand of a ghost summoning souls. Its light merged with the boy’s gaze, illuminating Yu Ji Guard’s trembling form as though he knelt before the Fifth Hall of Hell, awaiting judgment.

The youth raised a broken bone bow, mended with glue, and aimed.

Suddenly, an arrow pierced Yu Ji Guard’s body—not striking any organs, but positioned to maximize agony. He howled in torment.

“Remember my name—and go to the underworld.” The youth’s voice was low but clear. “This will be the last time I use this name. Yu Ji Guard, the one who came to end you is no one else—”

In the cold rain, his eyes blazed with fire, but his face was cold as death. He leaned close to the old man’s ear and whispered:

“I am Fang Minsheng. You are my defeated enemy—and from this moment on, for all eternity, I will be the nightmare that weighs down your soul.”

• 1
  One of the Ten Courts of Hell (十殿閻羅) in Chinese folk religion and Daoist-Buddhist syncretic beliefs, particularly in depictions of the underworld (Diyu / 地獄). Souls judged here may face punishments for sins such as: Unfilial behavior Injustice Lies, slander, or perjury Corruption or abuse of power. Punishments: being thrown into pits of knives climbing trees with sword-blade leaves (the “Sword Trees” mentioned earlier) Having tongues pulled out or being dismembered Roasting, flaying, or disembowelment