Chapter 100: The Soul Suppressing Lamp …

"Could something really have happened?" Seeing that there was no one else around, Julian West had no one to talk to, so he could only mutter to himself.

Spirit Mask hadn't looked at him even once from beginning to end, probably not taking his meager cultivation seriously at all. Julian West began to comfort himself, mumbling, "Nothing will happen, Amitabha, nothing will happen."

He felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. If he hadn't been tied up like a zongzi, he probably would have grown nails under his butt by now.

Julian West craned his neck in the direction of William Sherman, but still couldn't see clearly. He suddenly thought, if only he were a big turtle—able to swim and stretch his neck in and out.

He carefully looked around, then tentatively called out, "Hey, Mr. Sherman! Mr. Sherman?"

William Sherman didn't respond.

"Shen—"

Just as he was saying this, a ghost beast suddenly poked its head out and bared its jagged, inward-turned teeth at Julian West.

Julian West quickly shut his mouth, afraid that the creature would become jealous of his neat little white teeth and use his tender flesh as a snack.

The ghost beast licked its lips. It was probably assigned to guard them, but after thinking it over, it didn't dare to steal a bite. With a constipated expression, it circled around Julian West a few times, then retreated a bit, staring at him with a predatory gaze.

Julian West took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm his miserable mood by silently reciting sutras. But when he closed his eyes, he tragically found that instead of the undulating "Prajnaparamita," his mind was filled with the itching of phantom limbs—if that beast Logan Sullivan, who "forgets what he has when he has something," knew that he was watching his precious one suffer like this and was still calmly chanting sutras, he would definitely turn him into Darrin Grant's cat food.

Thinking this, Julian West opened his eyes and stared wide-eyed at the ghost beast in front of him.

Then he suddenly spoke: "Hey, can you speak human language?"

High-level ghosts could naturally speak human language. The ghost beast glanced warily at this cunning morsel and replied in a strange, hoarse voice, "Shut up."

Julian West just sighed, "Sigh, you see, everyone else has run off, it's just the two of us here. If I shut up, won't you be lonely? Aren't you nervous or scared, staring at the great Soulwarden nailed high up on the tree? ... Actually, do you even have balls, my friend... Ah, ah, don't be like that, could you please be a bit more civilized!"

The ghost beast bared its shark-like teeth to intimidate him.

Julian West: "I'll shut up, I'll shut up, I'll shut up right now, really, believe me, monks don't lie!"

The ghost beast retracted its claws and teeth and slowly backed off to the side.

Julian West once again looked up at the unconscious William Sherman.

But this little bit of concern was quickly interrupted. As he was worriedly looking at the bloodied handsome man, a ghost beast's swollen face suddenly appeared in his field of vision. Julian West immediately felt like he had gone from a sentimental art film to a hardcore horror movie like Resident Evil, and nearly choked on his own breath.

He silently looked away, thinking, "What's wrong with wanting to cleanse my eyes, damn it."

In the end, Julian West finally accepted reality—even if Logan Sullivan chopped him up, there was nothing he could do about the current situation. With this thought, Julian West actually calmed down and began silently reciting the Great Compassion Mantra in his heart.

The ghost beast saw him close his eyes and thought he had finally settled down, so it stopped paying attention to him. It quietly glanced up at William Sherman, who was nailed to the ancient tree, and, somewhat fearful, moved a bit farther away. The depths of the underworld returned to silence.

Just then, the ghost beast suddenly sensed something, shuddered, and jerked its head up—only to see Julian West still sitting there with his eyes closed, as if he had become a Buddha statue. Behind him, the Sealstone seemed to respond, emitting a ring of gentle white light.

The ghost beast jumped up, intending to leap over the Sealstone and grab Julian West's shoulder. But as soon as its hand touched the edge of the white light, it was as if it had been thrown onto a grill, instantly turning into a lump of charcoal.

The ghost beast howled in agony, finally breaking Julian West's concentration.

The fake monk was quick-witted. Seeing what was happening, he immediately realized what was going on. He took a deep breath, raised his voice, and began chanting loudly. The white light on the Sealstone behind him grew ever brighter. The ghost beast guarding him leapt about frantically but couldn't get close.

The halo of white light gradually expanded, some of it even reaching William Sherman. The man, who seemed lifeless, suddenly appeared to sense something, his brow furrowing uneasily.

The ghost beast clearly didn't understand what was happening and grew increasingly agitated. Finally, it decided to risk everything—it couldn't let Julian West keep up his tricks. With a howl, it charged forward, determined to tear apart the mouth of this monk who had promised to shut up but was still chanting for his life, even if it meant being burned to a crisp.

The sizzling sound of roasting flesh rang out. The ghost beast, undeterred by its injuries, still managed to open its mouth—now just a set of charred teeth—and lunged at Julian West's neck.

Julian West's chanting was finally interrupted. He closed his eyes and howled, "Buddha, your disciple is about to sacrifice himself and attain sainthood! Where is Senior Brother! Help! Mr. Sherman! Boss! Senior Brother!"

He shouted all sorts of things, but there was no response. After a long while, Julian West, shrinking his neck timidly, finally opened his eyes a crack, only to see that the ghost beast, which had just been ready to die heroically, had apparently been terrified and fled in disgrace.

Julian West was utterly shocked. After a moment, he seemed to sense something, slowly looked up, and met William Sherman's eyes—cold as a deep pool. The man had woken up at some point.

Julian West tentatively called out, "Mr. Sherman?"

William Sherman's gaze shifted slightly, landing on him, and then he nodded politely.

Julian West: "A-are you okay?"

William Sherman moved slightly, the shackles on his limbs clinking together. The small movement made the veins on his forehead almost pop out. After a while, he caught his breath and said hoarsely, "Not too well."

He had lost too much blood, and his pale lips were trembling.

Julian West: "How did you end up here? How did you fall into the hands of that... that person who looks so much like you?"

William Sherman closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the ancient tree as if exhausted, and said softly, "He ambushed me from behind. I could have dodged, but I didn't want to ruin everything at the last moment, so I let him stab me. It's not a big deal for now."

Julian West was silent for a moment, then asked uncertainly, "Really...?"

William Sherman seemed even weaker, as if deliberately conserving his strength. His voice was low and slow: "But he used an ice spike formed from Yellow Springs water and stabbed it into my heart. I can't move."

Julian West thought this didn't sound like "not a big deal" at all. He swallowed hard. "So what should I do? Is there any way I can get off this damn rock and get you down?"

William Sherman was silent for a moment: "The 'damn rock' behind you is actually the marker of the Earthmother’s Seal, personally set by Nüwa."

Julian West was speechless for a moment, then said dryly, "Sc-scared the piss out of me."

William Sherman smiled faintly. "No need to worry. That Spirit Mask is in plenty of trouble right now. The Highspire Divine Sinew is with me, so he doesn't dare do anything to me for the time being, and probably doesn't have time to worry about this place. It's safe for now."

Julian West quickly said, "No, no, I should still try to save myself. If Director Sullivan finds out I just watched you bleed so much and did nothing, he'll turn me into this year's New Year's Eve dinner."

William Sherman laughed silently, his gaze clearly softening. After a while, he thought for a moment and said, "If you really want to try, you could recite some sutras. The Great Seal was born from Nüwa's compassion. If your heart is sincere, maybe it will help you."

William Sherman didn't really expect him to accomplish anything. Although things looked bad, he was confident. He just wanted to give Julian West something to do and said it casually.

Unexpectedly, Julian West immediately sat up straight, as if broadcasting the news, took a deep breath, and began reciting Buddhist teachings in a clear, resonant voice. At first, William Sherman found it a bit funny, but gradually he started listening in earnest. The bloodstained sharpness in his features softened, and he lowered his eyes to look at the ice spike in his chest, lost in thought.

The white light on the Sealstone gradually became dazzling. Julian West, worthy of being from the Darion Sect, actually entered a meditative state. No one knew how much time passed, but the ropes binding him dissolved in the white light. Yet he himself was completely unaware. William Sherman was a bit surprised, but didn't interrupt.