Nameless District Arc Chapter 23: The Art of Acting

On the Martial Arena of the Formative Sect, a serene scene was suddenly shattered by a cry of terror. All eyes turned toward the disturbance as a flash of sword light zigzagged across the arena and crashed down.

“Elder Xu, save me! I don’t want to die, help me—please!”

At that moment, Xu Yuan was lecturing the newly initiated disciples. Sensing the commotion, she extended her spiritual awareness and was startled to recognize the newcomer as Zhou Xuanhong. Yet his current state was so pitiful she barely recognized him. If not for the true disciple’s token clutched tightly in his hand, his identity would have been hard to confirm.

Zhou Xuanhong lay sprawled on the ground, his spiritual sword beneath him dull and lifeless. His Daoist robes were tattered, his exposed skin streaked with blood. Much of his hair was singed away, his face bore several gruesome claw marks—one gash even slashed through his left eye, the wounds still oozing blood.

In his right hand, he held a severed lower leg—his own left leg, torn open by some claw, with wisps of black miasma seeping out, carrying a stench of rot.

His injuries were grave, his spiritual power utterly depleted, each breath fainter than the last. His body convulsed intermittently, on the very verge of death.

“What happened? Who tried to kill you?”

Xu Yuan’s gaze was icy. Although Zhou Xuanhong was merely one of her grandfather’s pawns, seeing him in such a wretched state, her murderous intent surged.

“Uhh... it was... uh...”

Zhou Xuanhong tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Xu Yuan hurried to lift him up and fed him a pill.

At the same time, her spiritual awareness swept into the auxiliary hall’s Immortal Physician’s Pavilion, where a lecherous, squat man was harassing a young female disciple. She sent a voice transmission: “Come quickly to the Martial Arena! Our sect’s true disciple is in mortal peril!”

The squat immortal physician, under the embarrassed gaze of the female disciple, gave her a playful slap and chuckled, “Be good, your master’s about to show you a real rescue. Watch and learn.”

The two soon arrived at the arena. The physician’s manner became gentle and dignified, while the disciple’s expression turned solemn—although a bright red handprint was hidden beneath her skirt.

“This foul aura—I recognize it. It’s the work of the Ghost Sect. What happened here?”

Xu Yuan shook her head, unable to fathom how Zhou Xuanhong had been so grievously wounded by the Ghost Sect. More baffling still, although he had only just joined the sect at the sixth level of Qi Refining, the aura he now exuded was already at the first level of Foundation Establishment. Could it be that her grandfather truly intended him as an heir?

At that moment, an inner disciple who had seen Zhou Xuanhong at the mission hall the day before spoke up: “Early yesterday, Junior Brother Zhou took a mission to exterminate bandits colluding with the Ghost Sect outside Lingbei City. Looks like the intelligence was faulty—the mission was fit only for top inner disciples.”

“E... Elder... take this!”

With trembling hands, Zhou Xuanhong pulled a shadow crystal from his storage pouch before fainting dead away.

The squat immortal physician instructed his disciple, “Carry him to the infirmary. His life is in danger, but we’re just in time.”

Zhou Xuanhong was taken away by two physicians, followed by a crowd. Yet most eyes remained on the Martial Arena, fixed on the shadow crystal in Xu Yuan’s hand, eager to see what had transpired.

Xu Yuan injected a thread of spiritual power. The shadow crystal activated, emitting a beam that unfolded into a fan-shaped screen, displaying Zhou Xuanhong and two companions, all affixed with invisibility talismans, infiltrating the bandit lair.

The journey appeared normal at first, but midway through, a vague black shadow flickered in an inconspicuous corner—a telltale sign, as the experienced inner disciples and Xu Yuan recognized, of the Ghost Sect’s infamous wrathful spirits.

As the four ventured deeper, they encountered bandit sentries—not truly alive, but puppets, their eyes dull and lifeless.

Then, three Foundation Establishment disciples of the Ghost Sect emerged with cackling laughter, launching a vicious pursuit. The four fled for their lives, while the Ghost Sect disciples, relishing the chase, held back their overwhelming power.

“Ghost Sect disciples are always like this—taking pleasure in torture and slaughter. The more gruesome the death, the stronger the spirit they refine,” someone muttered.

“I thought the Ghost Sect was destroyed. Who knew such a cancer still festers here?”

“Junior Brother Zhou’s luck is abysmal. This was his first mission, and he walked straight into hell.”

The recording showed each of the four being hunted down, their deaths unspeakably horrific—their screams and desperate struggles sent chills through the newly initiated disciples. Was this the world of cultivation? Souls ripped from bodies, skin flayed, bones shattered—truly terrifying.

Amid the chaos, Yi Xia tried to betray Zhou Xuanhong, hoping to buy time to escape. Unexpectedly, Zhou Xuanhong erupted with Foundation Establishment power, unleashing a volley of one-use talismans and magic treasures behind him. He managed to delay the Ghost Sect disciples, but in the chaos, accidentally killed Yi Xia.

Zhou Xuanhong, half-mad, muttered, “You tried to kill me first. I only killed you by mistake. Don’t blame me. Don’t blame me...”

Later, he aimed the shadow crystal at himself, terror and despair etched on his face. “Let this be proof—I didn’t kill my own sectmate. I acted in self-defense. He tried to kill me. He tried to kill me!”

Suddenly, the chilling laughter of the Ghost Sect disciples rang out behind him. “Run! Keep running! Let’s see how many more tricks you have!”

“Enough playing. There’s a risk of exposure. Kill him quickly, or the elders’ plans will be jeopardized!”

Zhou Xuanhong pinned the shadow crystal to his collar and shouted back, “You can’t kill me! I am the Sect Master’s disciple. If you dare kill me, my master will wipe you all out!”

“Then you must die all the more!”

The gap between pursuer and prey narrowed. Zhou Xuanhong hurled another talisman, which transformed into a massive elephant at the peak of Foundation Establishment and self-destructed, widening the distance once again.

After another desperate flight, Zhou Xuanhong narrowly avoided death several times, finally staggering into an area frequented by sect’s inner disciples.

“Damn, worthy of a true disciple—he has some fine treasures.”

“We can’t pursue any farther. There could be Formative Sect disciples ahead. We can’t take that risk. Report back to the elders!”

The recording ended with Zhou Xuanhong’s breathless dash back to the sect, his spiritual aura faltering. No one could doubt its authenticity—not even Elder Xu Yuan, whose pretty face bore a murderous chill, her hatred for the Ghost Sect bone-deep.

As for Zhou Xuanhong’s accidental killing of Yi Xia, no one spoke ill of him. After all, Yi Xia had tried to betray him first, and the circumstances were a matter of life and death. Had Zhou Xuanhong not acted, both might have perished.

Deactivating the shadow crystal, Xu Yuan addressed the new disciples: “You are all dismissed for now. This is a grave matter. I must report to the Sect Master for a decision.”

Xu Yuan flew toward the Sect Master’s Peak, while disciples of the Grand Elder’s faction hurried to inform Elder Liu Su, her rival. The incident was too significant: the near-death of a true disciple was minor compared to the horror that Ghost Sect remnants lurked so near the Formative Sect—perhaps even a Golden Core master in hiding.

Arriving at the small hut behind the Sect Master’s Peak, Xu Yuan found a message talisman blocked by the array. Picking it up, she heard Zhou Xuanhong’s desperate plea for help—a voice wracked with despair, attesting to the peril he’d faced.

“Hm? Yuan’er, what brings you here? Such a rare visit.”

Xu Yuan’s face was grim as she flung the message talisman and shadow crystal to Xuan Qizi, the Sect Master inside the hut. “Your disciple was nearly killed on a mission, and his cry for help was blocked by your array. See the mess you’ve made!”

Xuan Qizi’s expression darkened. Without rebuking Xu Yuan’s insolence, he enveloped the items in his vast spiritual sense. His face changed dramatically, murderous intent flashing in his eyes. Then, as if recalling something, he pronounced each word with chilling clarity: “Liu Xiang, how dare you collude with Ghost Sect remnants! Such audacity!”

As for Zhou Xuanhong’s message talisman, he paid it little mind. For someone of his status, a disciple he’d only recently met—if the boy died, so be it; if not, he might yet be useful.

Xuan Qizi tossed his sect master’s command token into the air. A solemn voice resounded through the entire Formative Sect:

“Emergency assembly! Ghost Sect remnants are concealed near Lingbei City, possibly including a Golden Core master. I, your Sect Master, shall lead the campaign. The Grand Elder will guard the sect. Each hall is to dispatch one or two Golden Core elders. By sect order, all inner disciples—unless they are on the verge of a breakthrough—are to end seclusion and join me in cleansing evil and upholding the honor of the Formative Sect!”

The entire sect mobilized. The uninformed disciples were elated—such a grand operation was rare, and with the Sect Master leading, no one imagined there was any real danger; it was sure to be a decisive triumph.

But the elders, hearing the command’s undertones, sensed something amiss. Ordinarily, as Sect Master, Xuan Qizi would remain to oversee the sect. Now, with the Grand Elder left in charge, it was clear there was more to the Ghost Sect campaign than met the eye.

From his storage ring, Xuan Qizi produced a resplendent flying disc, tossing it skyward. Instantly, it expanded to a colossal size, covered in runes, identical in design to the one that had ferried Zhou Xuanhong and the others to the sect—only magnified a hundredfold.

Under the force of the sect master’s order, elders and disciples ascended to the disc in waves—seven Golden Core elders, over forty Foundation Establishment disciples.

This was only a portion of the Formative Sect’s true strength. Many disciples were on missions abroad or had chosen to remain in seclusion rather than confront the formidable Ghost Sect. In truth, the order for all inner disciples was more a declaration of resolve than a literal command.

“Elders, heroes of our sect, the Ghost Sect has ravaged the land, slaughtered the innocent, unchecked in their cruelty. Thirty years ago, we allied with the righteous to destroy them—their survivors scattered, their sect in ruins. Yet we were wrong to think it ended there. Their evil has only grown bolder, daring to prey upon our disciples beneath our very noses. Even my own disciple barely escaped their clutches. Today, we will eradicate the Ghost Sect once and for all—root and branch—and restore peace to this land!”

With that, Xuan Qizi projected the shadow crystal footage—images of Lu Shi’s brutal murder, Zhou Xuanhong’s desperate flight—all played for the assembled crowd. The scene of Zhou Xuanhong accidentally killing Yi Xia was omitted, lest it dampen their morale.

“Brothers and sisters, follow me! Slay every last Ghost Sect remnant!”

“Slay them all!”

The shout shook the heavens. The outer disciples below were stirred to bloodlust, wishing only for the chance to break through to Foundation Establishment and join their elders and seniors in battle.