Gold Horn and Silver Horn

"I want them dead!"

Chen Huangpi erupted in rage, channeling a relentless surge of vitality from between his kidneys into the brass oil lamp without regard for his own safety.

He had killed so many, seized so much essence.

Now, what had once been a faint wisp had grown as thick as a finger.

The brass oil lamp had long been known as Wild Dog's Wrath.

At this moment, Chen Huangpi poured all his essence into it.

It was like pouring oil on a blazing fire—ready to ignite at the slightest spark.

"Die for me, by this lamp!"

The lamp’s eyes blazed, its wick burning with a savage, surging light. It opened its enormous mouth; its chest swelled then collapsed, and an enormous tongue of true flame erupted forth.

This true flame was its own.

It was no ordinary artifact, holding a lofty status.

Only, it had been split into too many fragments, so it needed Chen Huangpi’s cooperation to unleash even a portion of its power.

But even so—

Fueled by fury, the true fire unleashed in this moment possessed more than half of the lamp’s full might from its prime.

The two horned, eight-eyed beasts were instantly swallowed by the flames.

The fire shrank smaller and smaller.

The brass oil lamp sensed something was wrong and hastily cut off its flames.

"Chen Huangpi, these two watchdogs are strange."

"They seem... aberrant."

Chen Huangpi asked, "What do you mean, aberrant?"

The lamp replied, "They were tainted, but their transformation into abominations stopped halfway—such creatures are aberrant."

Even the Jiuli Bell couldn’t escape becoming abominable, its painful, maddened tolling proof of how deeply it was corrupted.

So why did these two watchdogs become aberrant instead?

The two beasts, wild with hunger, ignored both Chen Huangpi and the oil lamp.

With the last wisp of flame swallowed, their emaciated bodies became noticeably fuller.

The one on the left said, "What a potent fire! I feel all warm inside now."

The one on the right cried, "Wild Dog, more! I’m still not full!"

"Wild Dog!"

The brass oil lamp shook with rage and laughed coldly. "Chen Huangpi, I am your best friend, and you’re just going to let them insult me like this?"

"Oh? You want this little runt to stand up for you?"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Murderous intent blazed in Chen Huangpi’s eyes. He formed sword fingers and unleashed a torrent of Demon-Slaying Sword Qi at the two aberrants.

Each arc of sword energy brimmed with killing intent.

And each one carried a wisp of black smoke.

But the two aberrants, crazed with hunger, paid no heed. They opened their mouths and swallowed the sword energy whole.

"Ow—"

The left one howled in pain, "It hurts! My stomach!"

A wisp of black smoke shot out, instantly burrowing back into Chen Huangpi.

But—

Chen Huangpi looked dumbfounded. "Are they hungry ghosts? My sword energy returns as nothing but black smoke, not a trace of essence left."

By this measure, he was actually the one losing out?

The left aberrant sneered through its pain. "If you have the guts, kill me. I won’t give you a single drop of essence."

With that, another wisp of black smoke left its mouth.

"No, I won’t even give you my black smoke," it added, clamping its jaws and pinching its nose shut, even squeezing its eyes and ears closed.

The one on the right was even more extreme, having already done the same, even pressing its rear firmly to the ground—determined there would be no way out.

The sword energy raged inside them, torturing them beyond endurance.

But hunger was worse than death.

They’d rather die than spit it out.

Gradually, the aura around them began to shift.

Aberrants could be considered half-abominations.

The black smoke provoked them, causing their halted transformation to resume.

A cold voice suddenly whispered in Chen Huangpi’s ear.

"Quick, take your black smoke back. If they turn into full abominations, not even the Shoushan bronze chains will hold them."

It was the voice of the Death Wraith.

Chen Huangpi said, "Death Wraith, you’re talking again?"

"I wasn’t planning to, but how long has it been? Did you forget the nascent soul in the Soul-Reaping Ledger? If you don’t take your share, how am I supposed to claim mine?"

At the reminder—

Chen Huangpi finally recalled: when he’d slain the Twelfth Madam’s nascent soul, her spirit had been drawn into the Soul-Reaping Ledger.

By its rules, since he was the contract holder, if he didn’t take his portion, the Death Wraith could only stare helplessly at the soul, unable to do anything.

"I’ll deal with it when I get out. Since you know their origins, can you help me handle them?"

Earlier, when he’d been trapped by the Yellow Calamity, the Death Wraith in the ledger had spoken up, telling him the Dog-Taming Sutra could help.

Now it spoke again.

"They are the offspring of Di Ting, wandering the underworld in search of the Yellow Spring. If your master hadn’t chewed me down to bare bones, I could help you. But as you don’t go out killing, and never cause trouble, what can I do in this state?"

"Run, I say. I don’t want to be trapped here. If you die, I won’t even be able to die myself."

With those words, the Death Wraith fell silent.

Chen Huangpi looked troubled.

"If they become abominations and block the library gate, I’ll never get in."

He eyed the aberrants.

Even if it meant becoming abominations, they refused to spit out the black smoke.

He hurriedly called out, "Stop holding it in! Spit out the black smoke, it’ll give you a stomach ache."

They ignored him.

He tried again, "I’ll feed you true fire. It’s better than this stuff."

The left aberrant’s ear twitched.

"Really?" it asked, but the moment it opened its mouth, a wisp of black smoke escaped, and it quickly shut its jaws again.

"I give you my word," Chen Huangpi promised. "Trust me, I won’t cheat you."

The right aberrant cracked one eye open.

"Swear it," it demanded. Another wisp of black smoke slipped out, and it clamped its mouth tight.

Chen Huangpi sighed, "Fine. I swear, if you spit out the black smoke, I’ll feed you true fire."

"Not enough. Swear a deadly oath," said the left one.

"If I break my word, may my cultivation never advance, and may I go hungry like you forever."

"Make it even harsher!" demanded the right.

"Isn’t that harsh enough?" Chen Huangpi ground his teeth. "Fine! May I never grow taller, doomed to be a runt forever! Harsh enough?"

"Good. I believe you!" the aberrant replied, spitting out all the black smoke and rolling on the ground clutching its belly.

"It hurts! It’s killing me!"

"Ah, my stomach’s rotting, why didn’t you say so earlier!"

The two aberrants, unused to dealing with people, seemed somewhat dim-witted—yet incredibly stubborn.

"Hurry, Wild Dog, that means you! Give us true fire, quickly!"

Chen Huangpi looked helplessly at the brass oil lamp.

It trembled with fury. "Fine, take it all!"

It sprayed out true fire in streams, full force.

The aberrants devoured every last flame, their bodies swelling even fuller.

"More! Give us more!"

"There’s none left, really," the lamp wheezed. "Chen Huangpi, I’m drained dry. Turn me back, let me rest on your belt."

In truth, it still had plenty of fire, but dared not let the aberrants eat their fill—who knew what trouble might arise.

Chen Huangpi nodded and, using the Dog-Taming Sutra, restored the lamp to its original form and hung it at his waist.

The two aberrants watched, confused.

"That oil lamp looks so familiar…"

"Isn’t that the Abbot’s Golden Dome Lamp?"

"Impossible. The Golden Dome Lamp is far more powerful. This must be a replica."

The lamp could stand no more. A crack appeared as it opened its mouth to curse, but Chen Huangpi quickly smothered it.

"No need for that."

Turning to the aberrants, he said, "We’ve fought, so we’re acquainted now. What are your names, and why have you stayed aberrant so long without becoming abominations?"

They exchanged glances.

"I am Big Bro—Golden Horn."

"And I’m Second Bro—Silver Horn."

Now Chen Huangpi noticed: their horns were subtly different, one tipped with gold, the other with silver.

"Your names are a lot like mine."

"What, are you called Little Runt?" Golden Horn blurted, making Chen Huangpi grit his teeth with murderous intent.

"My name is Chen Huangpi, not Little Runt," he replied tightly.

Golden Horn shook his head. "Pity…"

Whether it was a pity about his name, or about not being called Little Runt, was unclear.

But Chen Huangpi suspected the latter, and regretted not unleashing more sword energy to turn these two into abominations.

Silver Horn tried to smooth things over. "Don’t tease him, Big Bro."

Then to Chen Huangpi, "You shouldn’t get so worked up. If we can tease you, you can tease us back. In fact, just call us Big Bro and Second Bro."

"Argh!" Chen Huangpi’s anger boiled over. "Wild Dog, do you have any moves besides true fire?"

The lamp replied, "I do, but my oil is running low."

Golden Horn and Silver Horn snorted with laughter.

"Enough, we’re not tormenting you anymore. Go back where you came from."

"I’m not leaving," Chen Huangpi protested. "I need to enter the scripture library to find a medical manual."

"The scripture library?" The two instantly focused on him. "You want to enter?"

"Do you have an Ascension Token?"

"No," Chen Huangpi answered, "but my master is the Abbot, and I’m the only heir to the Pure Immortal Monastery. Are you really going to stop me?"

"Just because you say so? I could say I’m the Abbot’s master—"

"Don’t say it, bro!" Silver Horn clamped his mouth shut, glancing around nervously as if afraid the Abbot might overhear.

Golden Horn declared, "Without the Ascension Token, you’re not getting in. We’ve guarded the library for years and only recognize the token, not the person. Unless you’re the Abbot himself, forget it!"

Chen Huangpi exploded. "Guarding? The library’s been split in half, and who knows where the other half is! Let me in or I’ll call my master to deal with you!"

He’d always thought himself even-tempered—until he met Golden Horn and Silver Horn.

Now he realized his temper was actually fierce, his anger quick to rise.

Always wanting to kill!

The two aberrants exchanged a look of disbelief.

"Bro, he might be telling the truth…"

"Where’s the other half of the library?"

"We’re doomed, the heavens are falling, the Abbot will kill us!"

"What do we do?"

Chen Huangpi seized the moment. "You’ve already made a huge mistake, so just let me in. I swear I won’t tell my master. Otherwise, may I forever be a little runt!"

"Bro, can we trust this little runt?"

"What little runt? I see no runt here. You must be seeing things from hunger—close your eyes and sleep, you’ll forget your hunger."

"You’re right, bro!"

With that, the two reverted to their statue forms at the base, turning their heads away to avoid seeing Chen Huangpi.

He hurried up, pushed the door, and entered the scripture library.

After he was gone, Silver Horn suddenly groaned in regret. "Bro, that rascal tricked us! If I’d struck while he wasn’t looking, eaten him in one bite, how could he report us to the Abbot?"

"And we let him in! That’s dereliction…"

Golden Horn replied, "Don’t worry, so many Daoists died in there, how would he survive? As for us letting him in—I certainly didn’t."

"Nor did I…"

…

Inside the scripture library.

Chen Huangpi stood among rows of books.

The air was thick with rot.

Ahead lay an endless abyss of darkness, where half the library had been split away.

Staring into that blackness, he felt a chill crawl up his spine, as if countless strange entities were watching him from the depths.

"Wild Dog, do you sense it?"

"Don’t ask me. I don’t dare. No wonder there’s not a single abomination outside—they’re all in here!"