Chapter 53: The Mourning Ghosts
“…”
Chen Fan stood in silence for a long time, finally exhaling a slow, heavy breath. He turned to gaze out at the Gray Mist beyond the camp’s borders, murmuring to himself, “This world is still far too dangerous… and our camp is nowhere near strong enough.”
It wasn’t just the Ghostbeasts that threatened them—these unpredictable Practitioners could be just as deadly.
All his life, he’d been taught that Practitioners were weak. Even a Level 2 Practitioner could be killed instantly by a Level 1 Arrow Tower. Before a Builder’s defenses, Practitioners were nothing.
But…
That only applied to ordinary Practitioners, like Zhou Mo.
Special Practitioners—like the Nightwalkers—were something else entirely. Their power was truly terrifying.
Like a walking nuclear bomb, ready to detonate at any moment.
After a long pause, Chen Fan finally turned back to Big Fish. “So now you can control yourself—not forced into Activation anymore?”
“Yeah.” Big Fish nodded. “Every time I Activate, I get a little more familiar with my Watcher in the Night abilities. It’s getting easier each time.”
She met his eyes, her voice calm and steady. “Station Master, I’ve decided to treat this place as my third home.”
“If the camp’s ever in danger, I’ll Activate.”
“Don’t.” Chen Fan sighed. “Your first two homes didn’t end well.”
“I’ll leave the camp, draw the Ghostbeasts away, and then Activate.”
“Just focus on your work. Stop thinking about Activation all the time. You’ve only got a few years left—don’t waste them burning yourself out.”
“The value of a Watcher in the Night is to Activate. If I don’t, I’m worthless.”
“That’s enough.”
He cut her off. Things were clear now. He finally understood why Big Fish seemed so childlike—she’d barely lived five or six years in total.
No wonder she acted like a kid.
And now he understood the fear and pain in her eyes. To destroy your own village with your own hands… that kind of wound would never heal.
The last person who did something like that was… what was it, Uchiha something?
“Go get some rest. Tomorrow, keep following Zhou Mo out on patrol and do your job.”
“Okay.”
Maybe Big Fish had never told anyone these things before. Now that she’d unburdened herself, she seemed visibly lighter. She looked up at Chen Fan, her expression unusually serious.
“I’ll protect you.”
“The meaning of a Watcher in the Night… is to guard.”
…
“…”
Chen Fan watched as Big Fish walked away, scratching his head. He’d forgotten to ask how she’d overheard his conversation with Qi Chong—after all, they’d been out in the Wasteland, far from camp, with nobody else around.
Whatever. He’d ask her tomorrow.
This kid… she really was like a suicide trooper.
Now he understood why she said she could only look backward.
It made sense.
Even if she never Activated again, she’d only live to eighteen at most.
No Activation, no combat power. If she Activated, she died.
Born to be cannon fodder, huh? No wonder she joked about it herself.
Crippled Monkey and the others climbed onto the Wall, watching as Big Fish left. They hadn’t heard the conversation, but they’d seen her long, jet-black hair and noticed she’d spoken with the Station Master for a long while.
“The Station Master…” one of them began.
“She’s a girl,” Chen Fan said, omitting the Watcher in the Night matter. “Her whole family’s gone—she’s the only one left.”
“Oh.”
Crippled Monkey and the others nodded, instantly understanding. They didn’t show much pity; in this world, many had lost everyone. They were no different.
Just then—
A familiar rasping sound drifted in from beyond the camp.
The sound of something crawling past.
“They’re here!”
Chen Fan’s eyes lit up with anticipation as he peered into the Gray Mist. Judging by the noise, there had to be over a hundred Ghostbeasts lurking out there. Finally, he’d get a chance to fill his stores—he desperately needed more Ghoststones to strengthen the camp, and killing Ghostbeasts was the fastest way to get them.
But—
His smile froze.
Emerging from the Gray Mist were more than a dozen men and women, their faces pale as death, each dressed in a long white robe. They shuffled forward, feet never leaving the ground, the friction of their soles dragging out that eerie, rasping shuffle.
Humanoid.
They looked like Impostors, but Chen Fan remembered: Impostor Ghosts never entered camps at night.
Each one carried a white lantern with a red candle inside—like a funeral procession.
The sight sent a chill down his spine.
More and more lantern-bearing Impostor Ghosts emerged from the darkness, their numbers seemingly endless as they pressed closer and closer to the camp.
“Anything in your memory banks?” Chen Fan asked, glancing at Crippled Monkey and the others.
They exchanged looks, then shook their heads. “They look like Impostor Ghosts, but we don’t remember them carrying lanterns. Not a common Ghostbeast in the Wasteland. Every Rainy Season, though, you see some new types.”
“Then let’s call them Mourning Ghosts,” Chen Fan decided, naming the unknown breed. He hated facing unfamiliar Ghostbeasts—it meant he didn’t know their tricks, and the margin for error was razor-thin. If only they were Monkey-Head Ghosts, he’d be thrilled.
At that moment, the lead Mourning Ghost stepped into the camp’s range.
“Thwip!”
The Ghostfire inside the camp suddenly flared, energy surging through the Copper Pipes into the Arrow Towers on the Wall. Every Arrow Tower snapped to life, a single bolt slicing through the rainy night and striking the Mourning Ghost square between the eyes.
It staggered, blood spurting, and collapsed.
“That’s all it’s got?”
Chen Fan frowned. The shot had come from the Level 2 Arrow Tower atop the Breeding Grounds. If that was the extent of their strength, he’d welcome as many Mourning Ghosts as they could send—Ghoststones ripe for the taking.
But…
He still didn’t know what the white lanterns did.
No way they were just for show.
The next moment—
The downed Mourning Ghost began to twitch and convulse, its body writhing and splitting apart. When it rose again, there were two Mourning Ghosts.
It split after death.
Chen Fan instantly understood their trick.
But—
Of the two new Mourning Ghosts, only the one with the lantern held it; the other’s hands were empty. The lantern’s power must be the trigger for splitting, and with every split, the lantern’s glow grew visibly dimmer.
Another bolt flew.
Both Mourning Ghosts dropped.
The one spawned from the split stayed down, lifeless, but the lantern-bearer split again, its lantern’s light growing fainter still.
“I get it.”
“Let’s hope the split ones leave Ghoststones too.”
Chen Fan took a deep breath, watching the horde of Mourning Ghosts steadily advancing into the camp’s range. All the Arrow Towers roared to life as he shouted, “To arms!”
Tonight would be a brutal fight.
Fortunately, he had enough Arrow Towers and plenty of Ghoststones in reserve. These Mourning Ghosts didn’t seem the type to break through walls in a hurry.
Honestly, they looked easier to handle than the Ghostbeast Swarm of Flesh Maggot Ghosts.
Maybe, just maybe, they’d all eat their fill tonight.
Of course, if they couldn’t hold out, the ones feasting would be the things on the other side.
One way or another, someone was going to get fed.