Volume 4, Chapter 167 – Soul’s Return (Two-in-One)

Setting aside what happened in the little room, setting aside the two hearts that had drawn ever closer together, the outside world was still in an uproar over the battle between Shenming Sword Dao and Zhengtian Dao.

Zhengtian Dao was no minor player. Together with sects like the Qianyuan Sect and Taixu Monastery, it could be called one of the “foremost Dao lineages” under the rule of the Demon Court. Its senior brother disciple, Chang Hongyuan, had even recently seized first place on the Heaven’s Pride List, and his prestige was at its height.

And yet, Zhengtian Dao—Chang Hongyuan included—had apparently been defeated head-on by Bai Xiang. There were even whispers that Bai Xiang had killed an exceptionally favored direct disciple on the spot, leaving Chang Hongyuan gravely wounded and unconscious, and that he still had not awakened.

This was not wild rumor on their part. Many Dao lineages also had their own chosen partners and footholds in the main world, and only after cross-checking and verifying the intelligence each side possessed had they reluctantly accepted this hard-to-believe reality.

That reality was that Shenming Sword Dao was truly strong.

Even if the rest of Shenming Sword Dao were all pushovers, worthless in many people’s eyes, Bai Xiang alone was enough to make that dojo one of the overlords of the Tongyun competition zone.

After all, openly clashing with the “Great Luo Heavenly Abyss”—the recordings did not lie, and neither did Immortal Venerable Yuexi’s conciliatory attitude after the match.

To kill a direct disciple of Zhengtian Dao and still receive that kind of treatment afterward—those who heard of it asked themselves honestly: unless Zhengtian Dao had truly been beaten frightened and beaten into submission, there was no way she could have gotten it.

So now it all depended on what Ten-Extremes Daoist was thinking.

At this point, Bai Zhixing clearly possessed far more than merely top-twenty strength on the Heaven’s Pride List. She was obviously qualified to compete with people like Chang Hongyuan and Yang Chen for first place.

A struggle at this level was no longer something small sects and minor schools could participate in, so for the time being they reined themselves in and planned to watch how the situation would develop.

Out on the wastelands beyond the outskirts, Gu Xi and her junior sister Xu Shaolian were tending to the unconscious Chang Hongyuan.

“That Bai Zhixing actually didn’t lie,” Xu Shaolian said in surprise as she wiped Chang Hongyuan’s wounds with a hot towel. “Senior Brother’s injuries really aren’t serious!”

A few bones were broken, yes, but injuries like this were nothing to an Immortal Venerable. Some Immortal Venerables would not even have their combat power affected by this, because they could abandon their current fleshly body at any time and restore themselves through their tan-arts.

So what exactly was Bai Zhixing trying to do?

Xu Shaolian truly could not make sense of it.

Judging from how Bai Zhixing had suddenly stepped in and killed their junior brother, she was clearly some violently temperamental madwoman who never considered consequences when she acted.

Once a madwoman like that made a move, shouldn’t she cut off every possible retreat?

So why, at the very end, had she spared them and let Senior Brother come back so easily?

She voiced her thoughts to Gu Xi, saying that Senior Brother might already have had “something dark done to him” by that demon woman, and that even if he woke up, “he might no longer be Senior Brother anymore.”

“I can hear you…” A weak movement came from the bed. “No matter how pathetic I may be, it still wouldn’t come to her controlling my soul just like that.”

“Senior Brother, you’re awake!” Xu Shaolian cried out in shock, then hurriedly asked, “Quick! Say something that only Senior Brother and I would know!”

“…Your screen name on the Venerable Net is ‘Zhengtian Dao Number One Under Heaven,’ and to hide your identity you call me ‘Brother Hongyuan.’”

“Eek↗!” Xu Shaolian was horrified.

It really was Chang Hongyuan!

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He was fine?

“Xiaolian, stop fooling around.” Gu Xi pressed down her agitated junior sister, sent her out to fetch some hot cooked food for Chang Hongyuan, then sat alone by the bed and quietly watched this senior brother of hers.

“Junior Sister.” Chang Hongyuan also looked at her gravely. “Describe everything that happened after I lost consciousness.”

Gu Xi did as asked, and Chang Hongyuan quickly digested the information.

Then he raised his head and looked at Gu Xi with approval. “You did very well.”

“I don’t understand,” Gu Xi said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why Junior Brother suddenly flew into such a violent frenzy at that time.”

“Let alone you—not even I understand it. I’m afraid no one but Master could make sense of this matter.” Chang Hongyuan pressed his lips together in a bitter smile.

When Bai Xiang had said that his outburst was only “for show,” only meant to “give Ten-Extremes Daoist an explanation,” other people might not have known, but he himself knew that was exactly what he had been thinking.

Because there really had been something strange about their junior brother Zhou Yi.

After entering the Dao, he had not wandered about sightseeing and amusing himself like most of the direct disciples. He had simply shut himself in his room and cultivated all day. A temperament like that was mature to an excessive degree.

And Zhou Yi had an indifferent nature. No matter which senior brother or senior sister showed him kindness, he only maintained surface-level politeness. He treated even Chang Hongyuan, his senior brother, the same way.

For that reason, Zhou Yi was not especially favored. Gu Xi and the others were only on middling terms with him.

But an instruction personally left by Master Ten-Extremes Daoist could not simply be ignored. Their master had told them to look after Zhou Yi, yet the man had died right in front of them. If Chang Hongyuan did not “go mad for form’s sake,” then later he would not be able to explain himself to his master.

Otherwise, given Chang Hongyuan’s temperament, for a junior disciple of the sect to ignore orders and disregard prior circumstances, then go so far as to do something like that and ruin the dojo’s reputation outside, it would already have been lenient of him not to cleanse the house on the spot.

And on top of that, Bai Xiang had not used any tricks. Openly and fairly, she had crushed him with momentum, broken him with force, and shattered his tan-arts from the front. Chang Hongyuan truly had not developed much resentment toward Bai Xiang.

He simply could not understand what exactly had happened.

And he was desperate to contact Master Ten-Extremes Daoist and ask whether Zhou Yi’s actions had been deliberately arranged by him.

At the same time, in Yujing City, not all that far from the Tongyun competition zone, bursts of firelight had been kindled outside the city.

They were not lantern lights, but primal fire.

Huge bonfires stood atop one hill after another. If one drew closer and looked carefully, listened carefully, one could make out the racks erected before the bonfires, the dancing figures circling them, and waves of mournful song.

The young princess Yao Ying stood on top of one of those raised platforms. Looking down from above, she discovered that this kind of firelight was everywhere in the darkness, stretching for no less than thousands of li.

“Is this really necessary?” she muttered with a frown.

“They’re only a bunch of mortal souls, yet they’re still holding such a grand sacrificial rite.”

“In the dim, dim blue wind, return, O souls.”

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From the darkness behind her came the aged murmur of a voice.

“Your Highness, do not say such things. Rites of sacrifice like this have their own significance in many small worlds.”

Accompanied by a rustling sound, an old man in a Daoist robe of deep purple and orange climbed onto the platform. He was gaunt as rotting wood, and looked far older than Bai Shengju had when he was gravely ill. He was none other than the master Chang Hongyuan had been muttering about back in Tongyun—Ten-Extremes Daoist, Immortal Venerable Haoran.

“What significance?” Yao Ying asked curiously.

She truly did not know what intricacies were involved here.

“The reason people like us desperately wish to return to the main world is because if we do not return, our souls will never find rest.”

Ten-Extremes Daoist let out a sigh.

“The main world is like a great tree; what falls away drifts like duckweed.”

“If we cannot return to the main world before the next Void Tribulation descends and merge our tan-arts back into it, then let alone any hope of extending our lifespan—our end, I fear, will be to have our souls scattered in the future.”

There was something strange about the way he spoke. Not only was it slow, it carried a peculiar archaic cadence that unconsciously drew the listener into an ancient age. It was as though human tribes from thousands, even tens of thousands, of years ago appeared before one’s eyes, as though one were watching the ritual dances unique to those tribes and seeing how they used them to call back war-souls.

Yes—war-souls.

For all her willfulness, Yao Ying could not be called ignorant. She had seen this in certain old texts. Even counting only from the severing of communication between Heaven and Earth, in the centuries before Yao Yu’s rule flourished, such rites had likewise been common among human tribes.

War-souls referred to those warriors who had died in the wilderness, whose remains could not be brought back for burial.

Yu teachings stressed the unity of Heaven and man, and the inseparability of spirit and flesh. Thus, in many folk tales and legends, even after death a person’s soul remained bound to the body.

So when these people went out hunting for the continuation of the tribe and died in mishaps, their corpses could only be abandoned in the wild to become feed for ants and beasts. Their souls, too, would be left where their remains lay, alone and lonely, gazing every day toward the direction of home.

And those who survived could not remain unmoved by this. They had to remember the sacrifice and use shamanic arts and rites to call back the “war-souls.”

That meant calling those lonely souls in the wilderness back into the tribe, so that as “the spirits of the ancestors,” they could continue to watch over the tribe’s existence.

Yao Ying understood this much.

What she truly had not expected, however, was that those Void People sects she had always seen as rather high-and-mighty liked playing this sort of game too.

They also had to put on such elaborate rites to call back war-souls?

She had not understood before, but after hearing Ten-Extremes Daoist’s explanation, she realized it was probably connected to the cultivation of the heart.

These Dao-Void Methods really are interesting, Yao Ying thought to herself.

No wonder they came from the same source as sword dao—they both emphasized tempering the heart.

“It is not merely a matter of cultivating the heart. It also involves the gathering of momentum.”

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Ten-Extremes Daoist explained patiently to Yao Ying.

“Your Highness, look.” He pointed to the starry sky above. “Who knows how many Illusory Realms are hidden there.”

“They were all once part of the main world, but were seized by the Void Tribulation and forced to drift into foreign realms, dying away bit by bit in the cold and lifeless void.”

“The source of the Void Tribulation stretches back countless hundreds of millions of years. Who knows how many cycles have passed by now? But the interval between each cycle is roughly two thousand years.”

“Two thousand years…”

“In that time, how many people have died in foreign lands, and how many small worlds have shattered out there?”

“So much so that souls cannot return to their native soil, and can only mutate into demons in the void.”

“Among them may well be someone’s ancestors.” Ten-Extremes Daoist looked at Yao Ying. “Therefore, regardless of the sect or the faction, every time we return to the main world, we hold sacrificial rites in the traditional summer month to summon the war-souls of the void.”

Just a trick for gathering people’s hearts.

Yao Ying remained noncommittal.

Compared with the intricacies of that, what concerned her more was how Ten-Extremes Daoist had gotten mixed up with Blood Soul Heaven.

That was right.

To many people now, the great trend of the world was a vast, murky chaos, and no one could see where the future was headed.

But as an imperial scion, and one deeply favored by the Yu Emperor Yao Xing, Yao Ying naturally had channels through which to learn certain great secrets, including the rough division of forces at present.

By her estimation, the Old Buddha—that is, her own grandmother—was broadly inclined to give up and withdraw.

The Dao-Void tournament was the result of an agreement between Grandmother and the Demon Court.

It was precisely on the basis of this judgment that people like the imperial princes and princesses had room to act.

According to intelligence provided by Blood Soul Heaven, every member of the imperial clan and collateral branches had a special Purple Qi flowing through their bodies, allowing them to bear a certain portion of the Mandate of Heaven and even receive Heaven’s favor.

Naturally, many factions and Dao lineages would therefore choose to approach these imperial clansmen, hoping to support their rise and, on that basis, establish a new dynasty to replace Great Yu.

The Crown Prince, Yao Quan, had the greatest power. He had the support of both Taixu Monastery and Zhengtian Dao.

Next came the Fourth Prince, Yao Feng. Many alliances of unattached Venerables had thrown in with him, and it seemed the Qianyuan Sect also intended to push him to the throne.

These were the two “hidden powers” with the greatest momentum at present. Contrary to the outside world’s imagination, it was not chaotic at all, with countless forces openly and covertly fighting one another. It really was not like that.

Just these two.

At least, in Yao Ying’s view, it was that simple.

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And it was under the crushing pressure exerted by these two “hidden powers” that the living space of the other imperial kinsmen had been compressed without limit.

Many princes and princesses were forced to choose sides, to submit to one faction and hand over the Purple Qi they carried within them.

That was something Yao Ying could not tolerate.

She, too, was someone with ambitions to contend for supremacy. Why should she submit to others?

You do not think highly of me. None of you come to support me.

Fine. Then I’ll go find Blood Soul Heaven!

Blood Soul Heaven happened to need a proxy to support and elevate as well. As for how many benefits there would be once it succeeded, that was uncertain, but in any case it was better than throwing herself at her eldest brother or fourth brother, being sucked dry of all value, and then killed.

So Yao Ying could not understand it—she herself had only joined up with Blood Soul Heaven because she had run out of road. But you, Ten-Extremes Daoist, the illustrious Immortal Venerable Haoran—what are you doing getting mixed up in this too?

As far as she knew, Zhengtian Dao enjoyed an excellent reputation in the Illusory Realms, and its stance was always aligned with Taixu Monastery’s.

Openly, you support my eldest brother Yao Quan. Privately, like me, you choose to get entangled with Blood Soul Heaven as well… what exactly are you plotting?

“This old man does not care for worldly power.”

Under Yao Ying’s suspicious gaze, the old Daoist only smiled.

Half-lowering his eyelids, he looked toward the star-filled sky overhead and said, “I simply believe that beneath great good there must be great evil. In other words, if one wishes to obtain a great good result, one must persist through the price of producing a great evil result.”

“The Heavenly Dao moves in cycles; when things reach an extreme, they reverse.”

“And now is precisely the time for that reversal.”

“Rather than allow the common people to suffer, struggling on and on in this sea of bitterness and reincarnation…”

“I may as well be the villain for once.”

Yao Ying froze for a moment, then curled her lip. “Do whatever you want.”

“But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“That Bai Xiang—Bai Zhixing—is already someone capable of suppressing Chang Hongyuan. And she’s already broken your scheme.”

“You’d better get serious about dealing with her.”

“Don’t let your ambitions become a laughingstock.”

With that said, Yao Ying stepped down from the platform and clearly meant to head down the mountain to rest.

Only Ten-Extremes Daoist remained—Zhou Yuan—standing atop the mountain, facing the stars, while countless leaping flames were reflected in his eyes.