Chapter 23: Must You Still Kill Me?

Soul Melding, a banal and widespread skill among dual cultivators that enabled them to fuse their souls into one. Once the souls united, not only could the bonded experience all that the other did, but they could also skip the sexual requirements of dual cultivation—albeit for lesser results.

Typically, only cheating women with a guilty conscience but desperate needs resorted to that skill—using it to get maximum benefit from their preferred dual cultivation partners without fully cuckolding their lover or husband. The skill required physical contact, and by itself didn’t have any battle use. Worse, in case one of the bonded two fostered ill intent, they could deal devastating damage to their partner’s soul.

From the start, Xinzi came prepared to lure whoever stood in his way into Soul Melding—pinning his hopes on the frightening combination between his knowledge of the cultivation world and his peerless acting skills. But even if he could con his way into physical contact, Xinzi’s soul force was far too low to force Soul Melding on Tusha—unless she initiated the connection to his soul.

Soul Searching, Mental Repression, Soul Strike, as long as Tusha—or any cultivator without a Venerable Soul or better attempted to pervert Xinzi’s soul, the monk could use that link to initiate Soul Melding and crush them within the walls of his Soul World.

Forced into a dead end, Tusha mustered the full depth of her Soul Force and clashed with Xinzi’s chains—a futile effort. The suppression imposed by the monk’s soul squashed all resistance, forcing Tusha to envision that perhaps all her plans and struggles ended today. Tusha rejected that reality, and in a last ditch effort, ignited her soul.

Back in the cave hall, Tusha and Xinzi seemed trapped in a time stasis. The nun’s demented face still leaned over our monk, and her hands held his cheeks. Xinzi’s smile stayed unchanged, pairing with his nun-bestowed monstrous form to give him a diabolical swagger. Strands of blood flames wrapped around Tusha’s arms, but before they could spread further, the nun’s body flew back—crashing into her stone seat.

Breaking the stasis, Xinzi stood up. Black mist poured out of his eyes and skin, and a tall figure composed of pure darkness rose from his back—towering above the fleshly body. The figure’s eyes opened, revealing a blinding splendor that erased the last of Tusha’s resistance. Black chains shot out of her chest—binding to the chained spark embedded in the dark figure’s chest. Thenceforth, Xinzi could do with her as he pleased.

Had Chun Xu or Dong Ling been awake now, a glance at that spark or the figure’s eyes would have reduced their bodies and souls to ashes. Thankfully, Xinzi’s previous strike ensured that neither could wake up before a couple hours of rest.

“How careless of me.” Rage, hatred and self-deprecation swelled up the nun’s chest. Xinzi’s plan could only work because Tusha lacked crucial information, his true clan name: Hengye.

In ages past, the Taiyang and Hengye clans split the world into two: Earth and Sea. The Taiyang ruled the continents and mainstream cultivation world while the Hengye controlled the Endless Sea and its myriad forces. In the eyes of these two clans, humans, mysterious beasts and ghosts ranked so low in the hierarchy of species that oppressing them made no practical sense. They also didn’t deserve the privilege of worshipping their gods.

The Sun Spirits of the Taiyang descended from and worshipped the Solar Dragon God. The Hengye Night Spirits represented the lineage of and worshipped the Thousand-Faced God. Both deities ranked among the leaders of the Celestial Paradise—meaning that be it in the Mortal Realm or Celestial Paradise, Sun and Night Spirits enjoyed lofty status.

For over 100,000 years, the two Spirit clans curated world history—rewriting it whenever deemed appropriate. However, as long as they didn’t break taboos such as consorting with true demons, discovering secrets of the Ancient Spirits, or not paying tributes in time, they rarely interfered with the various forces’ business. It wasn’t until the revelation of Qiu Meng’s Ancient Spirit lineage that the Central Domain returned to the spotlight. The Hengye clan, though, didn’t take part in the Great Desolation War.

To avoid revealing their true forms and wreaking havoc among the mortal lifeforms, these Divine Spirits condensed fleshly bodies out of their soul force and used them to carry out their tasks. Nevertheless, the souls were the true bodies—immortal and nigh-indestructible shells of immeasurable potential blessed by their divine ancestors with miraculous abilities.

“Why do you have access to core secrets of the Mourning Shadow hall?” Tusha couldn’t believe that the Mourning Shadow hall she established with her sisters would betray the Celestial Grandmaster and surrender to the Eternal Night Dynasty. However, Xinzi’s knowledge of the Mourning Shadow hall could put its founders to shame, forcing the nun to picture a catastrophic scenario.

“Asking the obvious. Then again, you have been hiding in this mountain for 10,000 years. How could you know the aftermath of the Great Desolation War?” Xinzi said, and his soul form’s lips curled up.

“Granted, I shifted timelines and put myself in the story, but I didn’t feed you complete lies. The Mourning Shadow hall did try to follow your will and build a power base. Starting with the Western Continent, they seduced the Amethyst Holy King with incomplete infernal arts and struck an alliance.

A pity that right around that time, our God-Monarch used the retreat of the demonic legions and the disappearance of you four sisters to launch a large-scale invasion—the Western Continent fell instantly. Your Mourning Shadows have long-joined the list of slave halls under the name of the Eternal Night,” Xinzi said. His calm and straightforward tone turned the words into knives that lodged in Tusha’s heart. Biting her lower lip, the proud nun lowered her head—refusing to reveal her emotions and grief before a Divine Spirit.

“Thank you for your gift. Don’t worry, after I get what I came for, you will join Qiu Meng in oblivion,” Xinzi said and turned towards the Codex of Heaven’s Will. An ancient treasure of heaven and earth, the Codex of Heaven’s Will contained cultivation methods and secret arts created by Heaven and other primordial entities in times long forgotten. Even the weakest skills belonged to the heaven grade, but since they had been created for ancient species, the cultivation requirements exceeded the reach of most Mortal Realm experts.

Xinzi didn’t come for those skills. They would be useful on his quest to build a harem of coiffed nuns, but couldn’t save him from the task that kept him awake at night. But as the monk reached for the codex, Tusha broke into a frenzy.

“Wait, Hengye Zhen, lord Hengye, don’t kill me! I can be of use! You’ve branded me with your soul chains. My body, mind and soul are yours! You have a Divine Spark, a chained Divine Spark, which means that you’re either a current or former God-Child candidate. I can help you defeat the other candidates and inherit the throne of the Eternal Night!” Tusha didn’t want to die. Until she resurrected her beloved master, she would balk at no disgrace to keep her head on her neck.

Xinzi knew that of the four Infernal Nuns, Tusha was the most headstrong. The woman put pride and dignity above her life and would allow no one to degrade her. Yet, for the futile dream of resurrecting her master, she could throw all that pride aside and grovel. That was loyalty—the type of loyalty that Xinzi doubted he could ever be capable of. The type that, on rare occasions, filled him with envy and respect.

“You can call me Xinzi. Your proposal is of no use to me. Not only do I have no interest in the fight for the Eternal Night throne, but you and I both know that, as a son of Hengye, either I hand you over to the headquarters, or I destroy you here. You four Infernal Nuns each carry a piece of the Demon Monarch’s seal. The Taiyang and Hengye clans want nothing less than that seal’s destruction and have long put you four at the top of their black lists. Should any member of those two clans notice that I kept you hidden, Heaven itself cannot save me…” As Xinzi’s words gnawed at Tusha’s hopes, his eyes scanned the Codex’s content—seeking a specific cultivation method.

However, not only did the codex contain fewer pages than expected, but Xinzi couldn’t find the one cultivation method that led him to this god-forsaken place. Soul and fleshly bodies’ faces twisted. Xinzi flicked pages back and forth, but still couldn’t find that method.

“Impossible! Why isn’t it here? Where…where is the Record of the Eternal Night?!” For the first time since he’d joined the White Immortal sect, Xinzi flew into a rage. The words threw Tusha into a spiral of confusion.

‘The Record of the Eternal Night is the number one cultivation method of the Hengye clan, an ancestral art passed down by the Thousand-Faced God that only the God-Child and God-Monarch can cultivate. Because practitioners can only train in one soul cultivation method, God-Child candidates preserve their souls until the selection of the new God-Child—who then inherits the skill from the reigning God-Monarch. I initially thought that his cultivation base was this low due to the candidacy’s constraints. But could it be that…’ If Xinzi didn’t even have the gal to keep Tusha by his side, there was no scenario where he’d attempt to cultivate his clan’s supreme method before rising to God-Child status. The God-Monarch himself would put him to death.

However, Xinzi didn’t merely covet that method, but pursued it with a passion and drive that made him ignore several just as formidable—if not better skills. At last, a smile lifted up Tusha’s lips, and her eyes gleamed with hope.

‘Xinzi, as knowledgeable as you might be, you still have much to learn. The ancients split the Codex into four tomes, one for each ancestral lineage. You’re now holding the Devil Tome. Of course the Record of the Eternal Night isn’t there. You need the Spirit Tome of Miejue. And I, only I, can lead you to her!

So Xinzi, must you still kill me?!’