Chapter 121

In the underground altar, chaos reigned. The villagers scrambled inside, the heavy air thick with dread. Xiaoli stood near the stone wall, eyes darting around.
“Xiaoli, where are you going?” an old woman caught her by the arm.
“Granny!” Xiaoli cried anxiously. “A’Ling still hasn’t come in!”
Earlier, in order to sneak off to the village gates with Yun Menghan and watch the commotion, she had left the baby in A’Ling’s care. But it had been far too long now—A’Ling and the old woman still hadn’t appeared.
“What?” Granny gasped, turning toward the crowd. But the altar was packed; it was hard to distinguish one face from another.
“I’ll go ask around,” the old woman said, pushing through the crowd toward the entrance. “Stay here and don’t move.”
Xiaoli waited anxiously by the wall, mind spinning. One moment she was thinking of Yun Menghan, the next of the man she’d glimpsed earlier—unearthly, elegant, unlike anyone she’d ever seen. Then her thoughts turned back to A’Ling.
So much had happened today—more than her past ten years combined. So the outside world was really this vast, this chaotic…
Suddenly, a thunderous sound rang from the altar’s entrance. The stone door was about to close.
Xiaoli’s heart jumped. “Elder! A’Ling and Granny haven’t come in yet!”
The elder hesitated. The stone gate was slow and cumbersome to operate—once sealed, it wouldn’t open easily. By rights, he should wait. But the High Priest had given strict orders before leaving: seal the altar as soon as possible.
He hesitated again—then a girl’s voice, urgent and crisp like silver bells, rang out beyond the gate. “Wait! I haven’t come in yet!”
It was A’Ling’s voice.
The elder paused the mechanism. In a blink, A’Ling slipped through the gap just before the door sealed shut.
Xiaoli let out a breath of relief. “A’Ling! You scared me half to death. I thought something had happened to you!”
A’Ling wiped the sweat from her brow. “I twisted my ankle while running. I...I need your help. Will you help me?”
The villagers were simple folk. Hearing her ask for help, several nodded without hesitation.
Xiaoli frowned. “You hurt your ankle? Let me take a look.”
She stepped forward, reaching for A’Ling’s arm—then suddenly paused.
“…Where’s Granny?”
A’Ling’s expression twisted.
Her five fingers turned into claws and slashed straight at Xiaoli’s chest.
Xiaoli stared in horror at the childhood friend she’d grown up with. A’Ling’s eyes gleamed red, her smile crooked and monstrous. “Since you’re so eager to help—then give me all your blood.”
Panic erupted in the altar. People ran screaming toward the sealed door—but it was far too late. The gate was thick and heavy. It would take time to reopen.
And in the meantime...they were all trapped in the dark with the devil.
“He never left!” someone screamed. “That black mist—he was here the whole time!”
The elder shouted orders while desperately trying to reopen the gate. “Defensive formation! Prepare to fight!”
In the chaos, A’Ling drained Xiaoli dry, then moved on. “Blood of Nuwa’s descendants...truly extraordinary. But far from enough. I need more. Much more!”
Though the Wu clan carried Nuwa’s bloodline, it had been diluted over countless generations—so faint, it barely remained. But to fully release the Demon God’s seal, the fragment needed a massive amount of that blood.
The elder mustered all his power and unleashed a fatal strike.
It hit A’Ling’s body dead-on—only to discover her flesh was nothing but a shell.
A swirling black mist broke free, circling a silver vial, and soared into the air. A’Ling’s body dropped like a rag doll.
The Demon God fragment had been sealed in the Jade Purity Bottle. His divine soul shattered, his divinity and reason long gone—what remained was pure, festering hatred. After eons of imprisonment, the rage had twisted him into a new creature altogether: a Soulbane Fiend.
He was no longer the Demon God.
Unlike the free-floating fragments scattered across the realms—who hated, but still retained autonomy—this one had been caged in that tiny bottle for millions of years.
He had lost his mind.
Now, he lived only to kill. To slaughter. To wipe out the Six Realms until nothing remained. Celestial, demon, god, ghost—it didn’t matter.
His seal weakened by the blood, his strength surged. He seized several villagers in a single motion, slashing their throats to drink deep.
“When Nuwa sealed me away,” he hissed, “she sowed the debt. Now it’s time to collect. When you meet each other on the road to the underworld, remember—it was your so-called goddess who sent you there.”
At the center of the altar stood a colossal statue of Nuwa. Once, her stone-carved eyes had been filled with mercy. Now, they bled tears.
And then—crack! The statue shattered into dust.
The Soulbane Fiend’s seal finally broke. A blinding red light burst from the altar, shooting straight into the heavens.
Luo Han saw the flash from the village. Her heart sank. “The Wu tribe is under attack. We must return. Now!”
Everyone’s attention was drawn to the light below. In that moment of distraction, Ling Qingxiao moved.
He broke past Yun Menghan’s defenses and thrust his sword straight at the child in her arms.
Yun Menghan stiffened, frozen in fear. The sword pierced the infant’s chest with a sickening sound. The child’s body convulsed—then dissolved into mist, vanishing completely.
Only a wisp of black smoke remained, coiled around Ling Qingxiao’s blade.
Yun Menghan stood frozen in place, unable to react. For a moment, she had thought Ling Qingxiao’s sword was meant for her. But upon reflection, even if it had been, he would have shown no hesitation in the strike.
She remained in a daze, uncertain whether to feel sorrow or relief. Ling Qingxiao narrowed his eyes at the dark mist still coiling around his blade’s tip.
This fragment—only a sliver of the Demon God’s avatar—was far more substantial than it should’ve been. Even if the seal had weakened, the Demon God shouldn’t have been able to escape this much essence.
Ling QingXiaolifted his gaze, icy and sharp as frost. “You...You broke the seal on the Jade Purity Bottle?”
Yun Menghan’s lips trembled. She opened her mouth but couldn’t utter a word.
That night, Xiaoli—unaware of their true identities—had used her own blood to help break the seal. When nothing had seemed to happen, Yun Menghan had assumed it failed.
But now, it seemed...it had worked all too well.
Ling Qingxiao didn’t waste another breath. With a flash of white, he vanished, racing down the mountainside. He hadn’t realized the seal on the Jade Purity Bottle had been tampered with. That misjudgment had caused him to underestimate the Demon God’s power.
Some of the miasma had been destroyed by his sword. Some had manifested as that infant. But the rest—still lingered in the Wu tribe village.
The seal had not fully broken, but danger loomed.
Ling Qingxiao and Luo Han dashed forward at full speed. They were halfway down when a wave of energy surged from ahead—so violent it nearly knocked them from the sky.
Ling Qingxiao caught Luo Han with one arm as a beam of crimson light tore through the heavens like a blade meant to rend the world in two.
Luo Han stared at the infernal pillar, her heart skipping a beat. Just like back then…
When she first transmigrated into this realm, the skies had been split by that same accursed red glow. Even from afar, it had made her skin crawl.
So this was the ancient forbidden art...No wonder only she could stop it—because she and Ling Qingxiao had been the ones who created it in the first place.
She had slain the Demon God...and now, the Demon God had returned to exact his revenge in this twisted form. Karma. The cycle of cause and effect. No one escapes it.
With the forbidden art unleashed, calamity spread across the realms. From the pillar of red light, a mass of black fog shot out, trailing a blood-red tail as it streaked across the sky, shrieking with maniacal glee:
“Destroy! Let all be destroyed…”
Wherever the fog passed, it left devastation in its wake—grass withered, soil cracked, even the springs frothed with black venom. Creatures fled in panic, but the entity—the Soulbane Fiend—wasn’t finished. He hurled clouds of toxic miasma down below, a walking plague bred from hatred and confinement.
He had once been a mere fragment of the Demon God. Now, after countless years of imprisonment, he had mutated into the most terrifying corruption the world had ever seen. And when he had finished ravaging the verdant mountain valley, he turned—toward a celestial city.
Everyone’s expression changed.
“He’s heading for the city! He’s going to massacre the innocents!”
Ling Qingxiao drew his sword. His expression remained unreadable, but his killing intent surged. Without hesitation, he soared after the black mist, undeterred by its poisonous retribution.
His speed was inhuman. Even Luo Han struggled to keep pace.
Ye Zhongyu had watched the entire scene unfold. And now he realized—this thing...this wasn’t just a fragment. It was something else entirely. Mindless. Uncontrolled. A beast that knew only destruction.
But if he could harness it...control it...would he not become invincible in the Six Realms?
With greed budding in his heart, Ye Zhongyu silently followed from a distance, waiting for the right moment to act.
When Luo Han caught up, Ling Qingxiao had already engaged the Soulbane Fiend in battle. The creature, sensing the presence of living beings, had eagerly rushed forward to slaughter—only to be blocked again and again.
Frustrated, the black mist surged, releasing waves of venomous sludge behind it to rid itself of its pursuers.
This cursed poison was deadly to celestials. A single drop could corrode their very spiritual roots. But Ling Qingxiao’s aura flared—freezing the air around him, shielding himself from the miasma. The ice shattered in the next breath, unleashing a torrent of sword energy that pierced straight through the smog.
That sword aura—the same blade that had once felled the Demon God.
The black mist recoiled, instinctively avoiding the blow. It realized that Ling Qingxiao wasn’t trying to kill it, but to stop it from reaching the mortals. It had found his weakness.
Snarling, the Soulbane Fiend twisted and fled at full speed—straight toward the city.
The barefoot fears nothing. But those with families, attachments...they fear too much.
Luo Han felt her heart clench. If this continued, the entire realm would fall to ruin. Already, she could feel the number of living beings dwindling—drained away by the Soulbane’s blight. If this went on much longer, her own fate would be threatened too.
She did what she could to heal the land as they followed, but no matter how fast she worked, she couldn’t keep up with the destruction.
The city loomed ahead.
Ling Qingxiao sent out a divine transmission to the city’s guardian, instructing them to activate all protective barriers. Upon hearing the words “ancient forbidden art,” the city lord dared not be careless.
By the time the Soulbane Fiend arrived, three layers of defensive formations enveloped the city. The outermost shrouded the entire region, and the innermost surrounded key sanctums.
But the black fog only sneered at their resistance.
He raised his arm, conjuring endless waves of hatred-infused fog. Within the mist, tormented faces twisted and wailed—wolf howls and ghostly shrieks merging into a chorus of despair.
With a flick of his wrist, the dark clouds shot forward like cursed meteors, slamming into the outer barriers.
“I hate them...I hate them all…”
The shield sizzled as the mists corroded it. The voices of the damned grew louder. Inside, civilians clung to their loved ones, trembling in fear. The city lord had prepared for the worst—but not this.
“Retreat!” he shouted. “Fall back to the inner barrier! The outer shield won’t hold!”
Among the chaos, a young girl stumbled. She couldn’t run fast enough. Her mother tugged her along desperately—but the child fell.
Her father turned, scooped her up onto his shoulders, and dashed forward. From that high vantage point, the little girl looked out beyond the barrier—where the black mist seethed like a living nightmare.
Just then, a flash of light cut across the sky. A figure in white descended. Sword in hand, he stood before the fog, blocking its path.
And the battle resumed—in the skies above the city, where fate hung by a thread.
All across the city, the people looked skyward and witnessed the battle unfolding above. The clash of blades and spells, the howling of resentful spirits, and the panicked cries of the mortals below blended into a cacophony the little girl would never forget for the rest of her life.
Suddenly, the girl pointed. “Daddy, look! A dragon!”
Her father chuckled. “Of course, sweetheart. When immortals fight, there are bound to be dragons in their spells. Don’t stare too long—you might get caught in the crossfire.”
“No,” the girl insisted, her eyes wide. “There are two dragons!”
The father paused, confused. He turned to look—and his eyes widened in shock. More and more citizens turned to follow his gaze. Even the city lord rushed out of his hall, eyes fixed on the sky as he muttered in disbelief, “His Majesty…?”
Hovering above the city’s protective barrier was the Celestial Emperor himself.
With a single wave of his sleeve, the dim, faltering barrier burst into radiant light, its surface visibly strengthening under his divine power.
Beneath him, a wave of kneeling swept through the crowd—but the Celestial Emperor paid them no mind. Instead, he cast a cold glance at Ling Qingxiao and remarked coolly, “Quite bold of you...engaging a soul-fiend in close combat. If that resentment clings to your spiritual root, your cultivation foundation will be destroyed.”
Ling Qingxiao had started with long-range spells, but found them too weak to restrain the Soulbane. He had abandoned distance for direct confrontation, increasing his attack power at great personal risk.
The Celestial Emperor had seen bold warriors before—but never anyone so reckless.
Ling Qingxiao sheathed his sword and gave a brief bow. “The appearance of the forbidden art was my oversight. I will be the one to end this.”
In truth, the Soulbane’s release had been the result of countless coincidences, and Ling Qingxiao had done all he could to prevent it. But in his own mind, this failure rested solely on his shoulders.
The Celestial Emperor sighed. “Even during the former emperor’s reign, it was foretold that the Demon God's residual grievances would one day erupt into calamity. He warned me of this before he abdicated. But the world was at peace then, and with no sign of the Demon God's remnants, I...chose complacency. I ignored the warnings. But now, the consequences have arrived.”
“Your Majesty…”
“Stand down.” The Celestial Emperor folded his hands behind his back, his voice as calm as ever. “It is the Emperor’s duty to maintain the peace of the Six Realms. The ancient forbidden art...is my enemy, not yours.”
The Soulbane had left a trail of devastation across the land. While the city had its protective array, the surrounding villages had none—helpless and vulnerable.
Ling Qingxiao flew on ahead to confront the Soulbane. Luo Han, less suited for solo combat, stayed behind to heal the injured. The city could still hold out for a time, but the villages outside had no such luxury.
Ye Zinan, Feng Yujia, and the others arrived soon after. Knowing their cultivation levels were insufficient to battle the Soulbane, and unwilling to become a distraction for Ling Qingxiao, they chose to remain behind and assist with the rescue efforts.
As a phoenix, Feng Yujia represented auspicious fortune, and her clan possessed sacred healing arts. She wasn’t as proficient as Luo Han in curing complex injuries, but she could handle the more common wounds with ease. They divided the tasks—Feng Yujia handled the surface injuries, Luo Han the deeper ailments.
But after a while, Feng Yujia frowned. “Even if we mend the bodies, the resentment still clings inside. Their spiritual roots are tainted—they’ll never cultivate again, and they won’t live long either. What can we do?”
Luo Han shook her head. She didn’t know either.
There was no known law or technique in the world that could purge such resentment. She had learned healing from the gods, but never the art of cleansing hatred. She could mend flesh, but not banish the venom in the soul.
Lost in thought, Luo Han suddenly heard a wave of screams from outside. She turned—and saw a golden light and a black mist locked in combat above the city.
The golden glow blazed brilliantly, while the black fog surged endlessly, refusing to dissipate.
Luo Han’s eyes widened. “That spiritual power—could it be...the Emperor?”
The golden light exploded outward, engulfing the entire mass of black mist. The others behind her cried out in alarm.
“What is His Majesty doing?!”
The most terrifying aspect of the Soulbane was its corruption. A single touch could ruin an immortal’s foundation beyond repair. Was the Emperor planning...to perish alongside it?