Monsters · Phantom Blade Zero · Page 2

Blackwater Crew disciples who combine ice techniques with Transcension, wielding crescent shaped scythes that trail bitter cold with every swing. Skilled at concealing their presence, they hide among the snow and wait for the chance to ambush their prey. Once avid ice fishers who spent years in frigid waters, they have now become formidable hunters in the snow. Strike the snow with the Loong Trident to break their camouflage and force them into view.

Huangxing’s elite personal guards, clad in black and wielding broad, heavy blades. Their techniques are fierce and overpowering, relying on sheer force to break through skill. They move like ghosts, vanishing in an instant and reappearing with their blades already crashing down toward the enemy’s head. By nature, they are honest and easygoing, rarely harsh toward others. For ten years, they devoted themselves to the righteous path, yet remained largely unknown, while smooth talking opportunists claimed the credit and the praise. They had long grown used to this. Until the comrades who had fought beside them through life and death began dying one by one from wounds and illness, all while waiting for reinforcements that never came.

Yang Puppets wielding heavy halberds, with sharp blades in place of feet. The blades skim the ground as if over ice, letting them glide and spin into sudden attacks, driving the bone-chilling cold gathered along their halberds into their enemies. All of them chose to be turned into Puppets. Their flesh-and-blood bodies had already been ruined fighting for the Lady, so they cast them aside and continued their killing with unwavering devotion in cold shells that never bleed or tire.

Madwomen in red carrying monstrous great blades. Though thin and hunched, they unleash freakish strength when swinging such heavy weapons, tearing through the air with every blow. Their attacks have no form or discipline, only the savage urge to crush every living thing before them. The Mandate could not be relied upon. Nor could family, friends, lovers, gods, or Buddhas. So they lay down on the Transcension table, hoping that with nothing but their own hands and a blade, they could carve a way through this hopeless world.

Blackwater Crew disciples with octopuses wrapped around their necks, their kicks fierce and savage. They carry specially made explosive rounds that unleash a burst of lightning on impact, instantly paralyzing the enemy’s limbs and leaving them unable to move. News of the Maskwalkers’ rampage stirred these men’s fighting spirit. They sought to undergo Transcension and use the ammunition they crafted themselves to wipe out the Maskwalkers.

Elites under Huangxing. Their faces are hidden behind black iron masks traced in gold. Brown fur overlaps their armor, allowing them to blend seamlessly into the grass and trees as they move through the mountains. Skilled with bow and sword, they can close in and trade blows if their arrows fail to bring down their prey. They were once members of the Mandate, but weary of its hypocrisy, they had long since retired to the countryside. When Huangxing called them back, they underwent Perfect Transcension alongside him, hoping to help him uphold justice, and root out all corruption and injustice... The arrows that once brought down hares and wild geese now have living men in their sights.

Red-clad disciples of the righteous path who combine the techniques of the Sect of the Scarlet Knife with Perfect Transcension. Using blood as a catalyst, they unleash blood-red Sha-Chi with a thunderous roar, driving nearby Perfect Transcended into a frenzy. Some less accomplished swordsmen, or those who took up martial arts later in life, feared that Perfect Transcension alone would not help them stand out among their peers. They turned to these techniques instead, gaining both greater strength and a following of their own. When the escaping blood aura began staining their clothes red, they simply changed into crimson robes. The stench of blood, however, is impossible to hide.

Disciples wearing lion dance heads, their martial techniques derived from the movements of lion dance. In battle, they bound and charge in the guise of an auspicious lion, and can suddenly breathe flames from its mouth like a ferocious beast. Lion dance is meant to transform the performer’s spirit into that of the lion. Transcension instead traps that spirit beneath the lion head and turns it toward killing. As their spirit gradually withers, their bodies shrink with it. In battle, they often become confused and disoriented, sometimes unable to tell friend from foe and attacking their own companions.

Kuye Temple monks now reduced to guards of the Sha-Chi Tower. Their weathered monk staffs, once used by warrior monks to subdue foes, have grown dark and worn with age. Now they wield them with brutal force, chopping, swinging, thrusting, and sweeping at any living intruder. Only after Sha-Chi consumed them did they realize the truth: every uncertain clue they had followed was part of a trap designed to lure them into the tower.

Healers in bloodstained masks. Vines have replaced their arms, drawing Sha-Chi and life force from female disciples to heal both themselves and Maskwalkers. Only the living are beyond their care. Did they cut off their own arms in order to undergo Transcension, or seek Transcension to improve themselves after severing their arms? They have forgotten, and no longer care. These healers have lost their hearts, surrendering themselves to the sweetness of blood and life force.

Mounted raiders armed with long-handled sabers, round shields, and longbows. From horseback, they bear down on their enemies with savage strikes and can loose arrows in rapid succession even at a gallop. Even when unhorsed, they can still fend for themselves with the weapons they carry, fighting with the same brutal, unrefined style as the more skilled bandits. Like their leader, they envied the Mandate disciples who patrolled the mountains on horseback, convinced that riding a horse would raise their own standing. They repeatedly stole horses from caravans and relay stations, then used their new mounts to make their raids and robberies more successful than ever.

Puppets shaped like village women, their faces delicately carved. They began to appear in the village from time to time some two years ago. Back then, they were neither so broken nor so uncanny, and they did not leap upon the living to claw at them. Most adults gave these strange things a wide berth. Curious children, however, would gather around, sometimes laughing as they called out, "Village Beauty!" And sometimes, the Village Beauty would lift a hand and pat a child's head.

Shadow Wardens of the Order armed with muskets, often concealed along high eaves and rooftops. Their weapons have exceptional range, allowing them to pick off enemies with precise long range shots or, after briefly taking aim, fire in rapid succession to suppress them with concentrated fire. Unlike their peers who favor close combat, these assassins lurking in the shadows possess far greater patience and ruthlessness. They wait silently for the right moment, then pull the trigger with deadly precision.

Bomb carriers wandering the Sha-Chi Tower, searching for something that might suppress their surging Sha-Chi. The immense bombs on their backs weigh down every step. Yet at the sight of an enemy, Sha-Chi drives them into pursuit, intent on mutual destruction. Attacks with fire can detonate their bombs sooner. They once belonged to the Sky-Thunder Sect and prided themselves on innovation, quietly mocking swordsmen who knew nothing of gunpowder or ingenious machinery. Their bombs could store both gunpowder and Sha-Chi... By the time Transcension's flaws emerged, it was too late.

Defective Yang Puppets with neither torsos nor heads, only waists and legs. Still they kick, trample, and charge recklessly about. Little consciousness remains within. Only the instinct to survive keeps these ruined bodies moving.

Brutes in ragged yellow robes, swinging crude clubs studded with iron spikes. They leap high to bring the weapon crashing down, or whirl it in a succession of savage blows. Those yellow robes once marked village laborers, easily recognized and ordered about. No one barks orders at them now. Only the deepening red upon their masks bears witness to their countless atrocities.

Baishan Scouts who have undergone Perfect Transcension. Fierce and deadly, they wield powerful leg techniques and move in and out of combat like the wind. Armed with hand crossbows, they excel at skirmishing, loosing bolts the instant they cross an enemy's path or slip into a blind spot. Perfect Transcension may carry hidden risks, but danger is nothing new to them. Scouting enemy lines, carrying intelligence, infiltrating places few return from... Every step through the Wulin is fraught with peril. If they are unwilling to take risks, how can they protect the Baishan Sect as it struggles to survive?

Swordsman who have undergone Perfect Transcension. Swift on their feet and seasoned with the blade, they wield their twin swords with fluid precision, their strikes flowing seamlessly from one to the next. As they flip and whirl through the air, they flash like purple lightning across the sky, every movement deadly. They had sensed the growing tension within the encampment, but dismissed it as ordinary disputes among their own. Even as the infighting worsened around them, they believed that by staying true to themselves, they could remain untouched by the chaos. Only when they were forcibly strapped to the Transcension table did they finally understand. In a world already falling apart, no one can remain untouched.

Powerfully built brutes, their limbs flooded with potent Sha-Chi. They charge at the front, swinging twin axes with abandon. When hunger takes them in battle, they draw in the blood and vitality around them. Even their companions are not spared. Once, they were their village's pillars of strength. The elders saved the little grain and meat for them. When Maskwalkers came, they stood foremost with their axes. When Transcension was offered, they went first. In time, the villagers' flesh became the food they could no longer live without.

Mounted Shadow Wardens of the Order charge head-on along the main road, double-ended blades in hand, their cold edges radiating murderous intent. They specialize in frontal assaults, using the momentum of their galloping horses to close the distance in an instant, leaving their opponents little chance to evade. Shadow Wardens have no names, only codenames. The Mindseals within their bodies compel them to serve the Shadow Sovereign without question. This time, they have been sent by the new Shadow Sovereign to intercept and kill Soul, and they will not stop until one side is dead.

Baishan Guardians who have undergone Perfect Transcension. With a flick of the wrists, their twin daggers whirl like scattering blossoms, while short blades flash out like meteors between exchanges. Their once graceful, agile movements remain, now sharpened by a colder and more resolute edge. They lived through the turmoil of the Baishan Sect, witnessed the tragedy caused by Dugu Linghe, and saw Bi Taotao take command in a time of crisis. With the road to restoring the sect long and difficult, they vowed to stand with their Sect Master and aid the Three Pillars of Kunlun against the Maskwalkers... But where have the Three Pillars gone? And did they ever truly stand with them in return?

Skilled bandits carrying long handled sabers, shields, and longbows. They are masters of none, but sheer recklessness is enough to make them try their hand at all three. Their rough and unorthodox fighting style can be surprisingly vicious, and given the chance, they will draw their bows and loose an arrow. Do not let their taunts provoke you into rushing in. When they strike their shields with their sabers, it is both a challenge and a signal for their companions to swarm you. After all, what kind of "master" would they be without a crowd of followers to make a show of it?

White-clad swordsmen once known for their graceful, flowing swordplay. Transcension made them faster and stronger, but also more savage and deranged. To conceal the signs of Transcension, they often wrap cloth around their necks and torsos. Yet as their faces gradually hollow out, the truth becomes impossible to hide: they are no longer human.

Lean and agile thieves who once excelled at scaling walls and racing across rooftops, they now use those same skills for ambush and concealment. The throwing knives they once honed to aid their burglaries have become deadly weapons aimed at the throat. They once underwent Transcension in hopes of robbing more wealthy households and helping more poor families. The comical smiling masks strapped to their faces serve both to suppress Sha-Chi and make them appear "harmless." But in the end, they descended into madness. As the smiling masks grew stained and blackened, they only made their wearers all the more unsettling.

Blue-robed lancers whose faces have become hollow voids. They charge on horseback with spears leveled, lending the full force of their gallop to each deadly thrust. Should an attack check their advance, they wheel their mounts and strike back, making them difficult to approach. Many earned their blue robes through connections rather than ability. But with those robes came shame and frustration... Some turned to Perfect Transcension in the hope of proving themselves worthy.

Thread-Binding killers wearing a Big-Head Doll Headpiece. The smile on the headpiece looks all the more sinister and terrifying against the backdrop of the great blade they wield. They are superstitious about the techniques of the Central Plains, believing that these headpieces can prolong life, ward off evil, and suppress the backlash of Transcension. They also firmly believe that performing arts and acrobatics can channel divine power into the body, so they incorporated their movements into their martial arts, developing a wild, chaotic style of swordsmanship with blades flashing like claws and fangs. Whether these unorthodox practices truly possess such supernatural power is unknown. All that is certain is that their bodies have gradually shriveled, until now they are scarcely larger than children.

Huangxing’s elite guards, armed with short blades and known for their swift, unpredictable footwork. In battle, they hurl throwing knives on the move and can use arcane arts to vanish from sight, only to reappear without warning. Perfect Transcension gave them the strength they needed. No longer would they be held back by useless leaders, flatter the vain and corrupt, or prove their worth to hypocrites who abused their power. So they donned gleaming golden masks and resolved to tear the corruption out of the righteous path once and for all.

Blackwater Crew disciples who live for fishing. In battle, they use their fishing rods to hook debris from the water and hurl it at their enemies. They originally joined the Blackwater Crew simply for access to its excellent fishing grounds. Later, however, they were inspired to use their Transcended bodies to aid the righteous path. Had things turned out differently, they might still be aboard their battered little boat, spending their days fishing and catching shrimp, with a few drinks whenever they had the chance.

These brutes carry crude, barbed spears and prowl around campfires. If a direct assault fails, they set their spearheads alight and attack with burning blades. They pose a greater threat than the other blue-clad brutes. To grow stronger, to better protect themselves, they surrendered more to Transcension than the rest.

Thieves wreathed in poisonous mist, their throwing knives coated in the same toxin. They use water to conceal themselves, waiting for the chance to strike from hiding. Years ago, after a theft went wrong, they fled in panic and fell into stagnant, polluted water. A strange sickness took hold, leaving their bodies rotting and poisonous. Transcension could not stop the decay spreading through their organs, but at least they no longer feel the pain. Now, beneath their ridiculous smiling masks, little remains but rotting, maddened bodies.

Brutes who use broken stones as weapons. Knowing they cannot overpower an enemy head-on, they hide behind others and seize their chances. Their aim is poor, but an attack from behind can still prove troublesome. With the cunning and tenacity of weeds, they survived famine and beatings. Their childhood games of throwing stones in village lanes are long gone. Perhaps their last innocence was the hope that Transcension might let them make something of themselves.

Thread-Binding killers wearing a Big-Head Doll Headpiece. The steel windmill in their hands spins of its own accord. They often hold it upside down in front of themselves, sweeping and slicing with its momentum. Their movements resemble those of a child, hopping and darting about, occasionally letting out an indistinct hum. These killers firmly believe that children will not be punished even when they harbor evil thoughts. So they have worn the headpieces for years, imitating the words and actions of children and allowing both their bodies and minds to regress. Far from being ashamed, they take pride in it, convinced that they are one step closer to regaining their youth.

Butchers who underwent Transcension. The copper masks that suppress their Sha-Chi hang crookedly on their faces, leaving them free to eat whenever they please. Their iron hooks drag distant enemies within reach of their cleavers, while the filth they vomit forms a poisonous miasma around them. When they begin gorging on chunks of meat, they are restoring their strength for another murderous assault. When food runs out, human flesh makes the finest fare. Now even that is scarce. Only starving frenzied hounds remain beside their butcher's blocks, waiting for a share of the scraps and bones.

Transcended spearmen whose faces have become empty hollows. Every sweep, deflection, thrust, and rising strike is swift and precise. How difficult it is to remain righteous. Defeat, injury, fear, exhaustion... So many hardships drove them toward a swift solution, believing it could turn their fortunes around.

Delicate, finely crafted Songstress Puppets. A horrific cavity gapes from cheek to neck, torn open by their desperate cries for help as their consciousness was sealed inside. Their once beautiful voices have become hoarse screams. Again and again, they reach for their throats, only to find the gaping hollow. Driven by confusion and pain, they claw at the living, trying to tear open their throats and reclaim their lost voices from the warm flesh within.

Brutes reeking of decay, their flesh a sickly blue-black save for a deep crimson patch over the heart. They hack wildly with twin axes, and in their frenzy will even slash open their own wrists, spraying their poisonous blood. Most are the ruined remains of failed Transcensions, discarded into the ravine and left to rot. Then the villagers obtained these lifesaving red threads and bound them around their bodies and masks. Somehow, these rotting corpses truly began to move again.

Madwomen carrying bottles of lamp oil. Their Transcended hands no longer fear the flames, allowing them to splash fire freely and use it to burn the living. They need no longer ration every drop of lamp oil. The failed products of Transcension provide more fire oil than they could ever use, enough to turn the night into a sea of fire.

Elites of the Order, clad in red and wielding double-headed blades treated with special phosphor powder. Their strikes tear flesh and ignite eerie green phosphor flames along the wounds. They often fight alongside Blunderbuss Shadow Wardens, combining long-range fire with close-range assaults to overwhelm their prey. Those caught between them are given little chance to breathe before facing the Order’s punishment in phosphor flame.

Defective Yang Puppets that move on their arms, skittering unnaturally along the ground before springing at their enemies. Perhaps the minds imprisoned within them once belonged to martial artists, giving rise to such ferocity. But nothing of their past can be recovered. Now they are no different from frenzied hounds.

The Sky-Thunder Sect's gunpowder was already devastating, yet some disciples still found it lacking and mixed poison into it to make it even deadlier. Over time, the poison took its toll. Those most severely afflicted developed green skin and festering sores across their bodies. Desperate for a cure, they combined Transcension with poison, using the "bombs" on their backs to store both toxic gas and Sha-Chi. In the end, they only turned themselves into yet another of the Sky-Thunder Sect's "new weapons."

Madwomen wrapped in filthy white garments, with strands of red thread wound through their darkened flesh and extending up to their masks. They swing long halberds with stiff, vicious movements. A single sweeping strike knocks back anyone who comes too close. After Transcension, their bodies decay and fester day by day... The lives they tried so desperately to hold on to, a roof against the rain, a meal on the stove, a child’s name... fade away with the rot, never to be recovered.

Hounds driven feral after feeding on the rotting corpses of the Transcended. Their fur has fallen out in patches, exposing ragged, crimson flesh. They often roam in packs, moving with frightening speed and lunging suddenly from the shadows amid savage barking. Once, they tore into Maskwalkers for their masters. Later, they learned to tear into their masters instead.

Blue-robed spearmen whose faces have become hollow voids, once commanders of white-robed disciples. Their spearcraft was exquisite, every movement purposeful. A single straight thrust at the throat could give their disciples a fortnight's study. As the toll of Perfect Transcension grew ever more severe, they knew their days were numbered. They resolved to make for Pangzhen and use their altered strength to slay as many Maskwalkers as they could. They had also resolved to end their own lives before becoming mindless husks. Yet when they turned their spears and felt the cold points against their throats, some hesitated for just a moment...

Yin Puppets armed with brass swords and round brass shields, keenly attuned to their enemies' weaknesses. They deftly turn attacks aside with their shields and counter at once, employing intricate and varied techniques. When the villagers first saw these puppets fighting Maskwalkers with brass swords that resembled ritual implements, they hailed them as a miracle: the Lady's protection made manifest. They never knew that each puppet held the mind of a Mandate fighter who had spent years battling Maskwalkers... The miracle they so gratefully worshipped was only a spectacle staged by the puppet makers.

Bomb Carriers covered in frost, with sharp icicles coating both their heads and the massive ice bombs strapped to their backs. Sha-Chi drives them to charge blindly at anything living, detonating in a burst of killing cold that destroys both themselves and their target. If struck by fire, the Sha-Chi within them instantly spirals out of control, causing them to explode. They once tried to use extreme cold to suppress the burning agony of Transcension. In the end, the cold seeped into their bones and Sha-Chi consumed their minds, sealing both flesh and sanity within these freezing shells.

The Order's killers are highly trained and ruthlessly efficient. Wielding broad, double-ended blades, they unleash relentless attacks to overwhelm their foes at close range. Shadow Wardens have no facial features, only black, hollow voids. Yet they wear no masks, nor do they share the Maskwalkers' bloodthirsty madness. They are little more than violet shadows, lurking in the darkness and coming and going without a trace. Lately, however, these shadows seem to be appearing more and more often throughout the Wulin.

Kuye Temple monks subjected to Transcension, now reduced to guards of the Sha-Chi Tower. Their weapon is a nine-ring blade, seemingly fused with their steel bodies. Their senior brothers entered the Sha-Chi Tower to investigate but never returned, leaving them deeply concerned. The tower was once a place of Transcension, and many strange devices remain within. If someone with ill intent were to make use of them, the consequences could be dire... Uneasy, they entered the tower to search for their brothers.

Elite operatives serving "The Order." Clad in copper helmets and armor, they wield tiger-headed blunderbusses. Three barrels protrude from the tiger's mouth, allowing them to unleash a rapid barrage of shots while moving and evading with ease. Their firepower is formidable. When engaged at close range, they can also swing their firearms like heavy hammers, striking with tremendous force and speed. They often appear alongside the Wildfire Shadow Wardens, using gunfire to cover their blade attacks and making it difficult for their prey to escape.