The Rise of a Family: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 412 (Patreon)

Chapter 412: Breakthrough—Nine Tribulations Sword-Soul Body, Nine Tails Revealed

Heavenly Dragon Temple.

With both hands forming seals, Qiu Chan drew the yin energy in her body toward her dantian. It swirled into a rotating vortex, the outline of a Yin-Fiend Golden Pill beginning to take shape.

Yin energy surged around her like a tide. A faint ghostly sheen rose upon her skin, and the very air inside the Heavenly Dragon Temple seemed to thicken.

“This is…”

Fu Changsheng started in alarm.

Was Qiu Chan about to force a breakthrough to the Golden Core realm?!

For a ghost-cultivator, breaking through was even harder than a demon beast advancing to the fourth tier. To force a breakthrough without any preparation was courting death. He’d thought the breakthrough she’d mentioned earlier meant only stepping into pseudo-fourth tier.

He hadn’t expected Qiu Chan to try to push straight into Golden Core.

“Qiu Chan, don’t!”

He moved to stop her.

A muffled thud echoed from within Qiu Chan’s body. The once-smoothly flowing yin energy suddenly went chaotic, like water churned by an invisible hand, scattering in all directions. Qiu Chan’s brows knitted tight; beads of sweat seeped across her forehead as power rampaged the wrong way through her meridians.

“Ungh—” She groaned, a thread of black blood spilling from the corner of her lips. Her aura withered in an instant.

Fu Changsheng’s gaze sharpened. He raised a hand and cast a soul-stabilizing Technique, his voice low and steady. “Steady your mind. Do not force it.”

Qiu Chan grit her teeth and held on, but the fleeting chance had already vanished. The yin energy ebbed like a receding tide and finally stilled. She slowly opened her eyes, weariness and unwillingness flashing in them.

“Master… this servant is inept. I failed to break through,” she said quietly, a hint of chagrin in her voice.

Fu Changsheng, however, let out a breath of relief.

He shook his head. “You’ve already done well to step smoothly into pseudo-fourth tier ahead of me. As for a ghost-cultivator congealing a Golden Core, we’ll wait until I find the right records and make thorough preparations. Do not act on impulse again, understood?”

“Your lesson is just, Master.”

Only now did fear ripple through Qiu Chan.

If not for Master’s timely shout snapping her out of that entranced state, she might already have been scattered to ash.

Seeing this, Fu Changsheng comforted her. “A stumble teaches wisdom. Take the lesson, don’t repeat it, and there’s no need to blame yourself. Breathe and recover for a few days. Once your foundation is steady, seek another chance.”

Qiu Chan drew a long breath, pressed down the surging qi and blood, and answered respectfully, “Yes, this servant understands.”

Leaving the Heavenly Dragon Temple, Fu Changsheng cast his mind into the sea of consciousness and looked upon the panel.

He had eight thousand five hundred family contribution points left. He’d planned to spend some with Yao Yao to improve her spiritual-root aptitude, and—before the Kunlun Minor World opened—give himself a quick boost as well. He decided at once.

He fixed his will on the [Descendant Spiritual-Root Aptitude Upgrade] panel.

“Improve Yao Yao’s spiritual-root aptitude.”

Hum.

The panel trembled.

Waves of yellow light surged.

At once, a familiar line of text appeared:

[An Otherworld is about to open. Will you go in person, or by thought-projection?]

“Huh?”

This time it led to an Otherworld?

Fu Changsheng immediately thought of the identity Fu Ziwei. He’d gone there twice before and cultivated the Great Derivation Technique to a new stage there. “Is it sending me to the Otherworld where Fu Ziwei lives?”

Last time he’d entered Tai Xuan Cave Heaven with Fu Ziao and Fu Ziqian. In that Otherworld, the Fu Clan seemed to have been invaded by an external enemy. He didn’t know what became of Madam Yue—Ziwei’s mother—and the Fu Patriarch…

Turning it over, he made his choice.

“In person!”

Hum!

The panel shuddered.

Yellow radiance poured forth.

He felt his sight blur.

When Fu Changsheng opened his eyes again, a heavy stench of blood washed over him. He stood atop a shattered city tower. Far off on the horizon, eerie purple flames were burning. At the foot of the walls lay dozens of corpses, some wearing familiar Fu Clan attire.

“This…”

His pupils constricted.

This wasn’t the grand Fu Fortress in his memory. Had he not entered Fu Ziwei’s world after all?

Sweeping his spiritual sense, he found the city in ruins. The glazed roof of the main hall had collapsed by half. The mountain-guarding array’s foundations had been violently destroyed, the leftover array-patterns flickering with a dying light.

“Young Master Ziwei—you’ve awakened!! Heaven bless my Fu Clan!!”

A trembling cry came from behind.

Fu Changsheng turned and saw a palace-robed woman, her face smeared with blood, racing toward him.

“Cang Jian?” he blurted instinctively. She’d been the one who led him to the Myriad Worlds Trial Tower the first time he crossed over. “What happened? Where is Madam Yue?”

Tears rolled from Cang Jian’s eyes. “Three days ago the Profound Yin Sect launched a surprise attack. Of all times, the Patriarch was out hunting with Young Master Ziao, and Madam Yue—she detonated her dantian to protect you while you lay in an unending sleep… Young Master Ziwei, please accept my condolences!”

All the blood in Fu Changsheng’s body turned to ice. He remembered the gentle woman who was always smiling, who had quietly tucked every bottle of pills she could find into “Fu Ziwei’s” hands.

Just then—

“There are survivors!”

A harsh shout rose from below the walls.

Seven black-robed cultivators flew in on blood-colored gourds. The leader’s face was crawled over by centipede-like toxin-marks.

Cang Jian narrowed her eyes—this was the garb of the Profound Yin Sect’s law-enforcement stewards, a peak Purple Mansion cultivator. She shot in front of Fu Changsheng to shield him and sent a rapid voice transmission:

“Young Master, go! They came to hunt down Fu bloodlines.”

A low shout rang from Cang Jian’s chest. Her withered frame erupted with shocking might, peak Purple Mansion cultivation bursting forth without reserve. Hands flashing through seals, she stirred torrents of spiritual power and in an instant condensed a crimson protective gang-qi, locking Fu Changsheng behind her.

“Little wench, seeking death!” the leading Profound Yin cultivator sneered. He shook his sleeve, and seven blood-red chains howled through the air, each wrapped in venomous fiendish yin, shooting for Cang Jian’s vitals.

“Hmph!” Cang Jian snorted coldly and stepped in instead of back. Her bony fist blasted out; the wind of her punch roared like a dragon, smashing three chains on the spot! The other four coiled in, only to be flung aside by her gang-qi with a screech of grinding metal.

“All together!” barked another black-robed cultivator, and the seven struck at once, each unleashing a killing move.

The second drew a pitch-black bone-sword, its edge wreathed with ghostly green poison-flame. One slash, and the flame became a giant serpent, roaring as it pounced at Cang Jian. She neither dodged nor flinched—her right hand became a claw and seized. The poison-serpent burst in her grip, sparks scattering!

The third used the opening to flash close, a ball of yin-thunder blooming in his palm as he slammed for her back. Cang Jian’s body swayed, slipping aside at the last instant. Her counterpalm landed; peak Purple Mansion power thundered like a storm-tide and hurled the man dozens of zhang, smashing half a wall.

“Quite capable, old hag!” the fourth man tittered. His hands flew; the ground split wide and countless bone-white arms thrust up, clamping around Cang Jian’s legs. The fifth unfurled a blood-colored banner, and a horde of wailing resentful souls swooped to devour her spirit.

A cold light flared in Cang Jian’s eyes. She stamped, the ground exploding as the bone-arms shattered. She spat a thread of crimson true flame that became a fire-phoenix, wings spread wide, sweeping the onrushing souls to ash.

“Old fossil!” the sixth howled. His body swelled, turning into a three-zhang blood-corpse. Claws like knives scythed toward Cang Jian’s skull. She crossed her arms and took it head-on. The stone beneath her feet crazed and cracked, but her stance didn’t shift an inch.

“My turn.” Cang Jian’s low cry sounded. Golden light bloomed upon her right fist; she punched like a falling meteor, boring a hole straight through the blood-corpse’s chest! It wailed and burst apart, flesh and gore flying.

Seeing this, the seventh paled and tried to retreat—but Cang Jian flickered like a ghost to his front, five withered fingers closing on his throat like iron tongs.

The black-robed man grinned with a ghastly twist. “None of your Fu clan will escape!” Even as he spoke, his spiritual power ran wild—he meant to self-detonate!

Cang Jian’s gaze turned razor-keen. She heaved and hurled him skyward—

Boom!!!

A Purple Mansion cultivator’s self-detonation shook heaven and earth. The violent shockwave swept everywhere. Cang Jian was driven back a few steps, a line of blood on her lips, her eyes still sharp as blades.

Slowly turning, she looked at Fu Changsheng. “Young Master, go! This servant will hold them here!”

Fu Changsheng’s heart jolted. One against seven—Cang Jian was truly both body and Technique, astonishing in battle.

But why had the system sent him straight into such a deadly storm? Luckily, he’d brought QingFlood Dragon along.

He was about to summon the “ordinary little snake” that was currently slithering about the battlefield pinching storage pouches—

When—

A far more terrifying aura rushed in from the horizon!

The Profound Yin Sect’s Golden Core elder had arrived!

That aura was as deep as an abyss and vast as the sea. Even before it showed itself, the heavens and earth trembled. The purple flames in the distance twisted as if tugged by a hand, knitting into a ghastly face that peered down upon the shattered city.

“Young Master, go!” Cang Jian’s shout cut like a whip. Her withered frame straightened, crimson gang-qi surging again, pressing faintly at the limits of Purple Mansion. Hands locked in seals and a muttered chant rose. An ancient rune congealed in her palms—the Fu Clan’s secret Blood-Burning Forbidden Technique!

“Cang Jian! You mustn’t!” Fu Changsheng’s heart lurched. That forbidden Technique burned blood and lifespan—certain death!

“This servant’s lived for centuries. To die for the Fu bloodline today—worth it!” Cang Jian laughed, battle-lust blazing as she charged into the Golden Core pressure.

The sky split with a rip. A black-robed figure stepped through the air, each footfall rousing ripples in the void. His face was withered, his eyes ink-black, a swarm of resentful souls bound around him—the Profound Yin Sect’s Golden Core elder, the Yin Bone Old Fiend!

“Mere Purple Mansion dares bar this seat?” The Yin Bone Old Fiend smiled coldly. A flick of his sleeve, and a pitch-black ghost claw formed from nothing, vast enough to cover the sky, snatching at Cang Jian.

Cang Jian roared, pushing the Blood-Burning Technique to the limit. One punch blasted out; her crimson fist-gang became a roaring fire dragon that slammed the ghost claw.

Kra-boom—!!!

A storm of spiritual force tore outward. The city tower collapsed in an instant, smoke billowing high. Flung back dozens of zhang by the shockwave, Fu Changsheng barely steadied himself and looked—

As the dust thinned, Cang Jian knelt on one knee, drenched in blood, her right arm in powder. Her eyes were still as keen as ever. The Yin Bone Old Fiend had only taken half a step back, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. “Blood-Burning Forbidden Technique? I did underestimate you.”

“Young… Master… go…” Cang Jian’s voice crept into his mind, blood spilling from her lips.

All this took no more than a heartbeat.

With Cang Jian holding the line, QingFlood Dragon swooped back right on time.

“Xiao Qing, go!”

At Fu Changsheng’s call, the “little snake” swelled, scales streaming with azure light. In a blink it became a ten-plus-zhang azure flood dragon. It loosed a low roar, dragon-might rippling outward, scouring the lingering yin from the air.

Fu Changsheng leapt to the dragon’s head. His sleeve swept, and a gentle spiritual force wrapped the gravely injured Cang Jian, lifting her onto QingFlood Dragon’s back. The flood dragon flicked its long tail and rode the wind, vanishing in a streak.

“Think to flee?” The Yin Bone Old Fiend grinned, clawing at the air. The sky dimmed. Countless bone-white chains thrust from the void, writhing like living things, weaving a heaven-net. Twisted faces of resentful souls bulged along the links, shrieking.

QingFlood Dragon threw back its head and sang. The horn atop its skull burst with blinding thunder. A bolt of blue-white lightning fell and blasted the three foremost chains to dust. But more chains had already knotted into a net, about to close—

“Break!” Fu Changsheng brought two fingers together like a sword and ignited several Thunder-Guiding Talismans. Black-violet hell-blossoms of lightning blew open and melted every chain within a hundred zhang.

“Oh? Those talismans…” The Yin Bone Old Fiend gave a soft grunt, surprised by their power—and their crafting wasn’t from this region at all. He’d heard Fu Ziwei was as good as a dead man, yet here he was very much alive. So the rumors were false. “The Fu Clan’s methods are not shallow.”

Assuming these were the Fu Clan’s hidden life-preserving means for their heirs, he pressed on.

Seizing the opening, QingFlood Dragon plunged into the clouds. It trod vapor with four claws, ancient sigils lighting upon every scale. Its speed surged to the utmost. The land below smeared into color. The gale split around its body, forming a clear sheath to shield the two riders.

“Cough—Young Master…” Cang Jian lay on the dragon’s back, her shattered chest heaving. “East… three thousand li… there’s a Fu Clan dark post. This is the Xuantian Token the Patriarch left me before he departed. Only a direct Fu scion can acti—” She fainted mid-word. The blood she’d burned was spent; cracks now crazed her skin.

Fu Changsheng pressed a palm to her heart and poured the Green Emperor Longevity Technique’s power into her. His pupils shrank—threads of black qi wound her meridians. The Yin Bone Old Fiend’s Soul-Eroding Poison was devouring her life-force.

QingFlood Dragon suddenly hissed warning. Behind them, cloud-sea boiled. A blood-red arc stretched across the sky, bearing down fast. Wherever it passed, cloud vapor vaporized. The Yin Bone Old Fiend was upon them, driving his life-bound artifact, the Blood-River Chariot! The car was forged from nine Golden Core skulls; its wheels ground with a chorus of hair-raising wails.

“Faster!” Fu Changsheng bit his fingertip and drew a blood-sigil along QingFlood Dragon’s spine. The flood dragon winced, speed leaping again, blood beading from between overtaxed scales. Still the gap continued to close—the chariot pressed within a thousand zhang, the skull lantern on its prow flaring sickly green.

At the brink—

Fu Changsheng crushed the Xuantian Token. A pillar of cyan light shot skyward and burst into the Fu Clan’s totem—the Heavenly Dragon’s sigil.

Almost simultaneously, a rip split the void ahead. A giant cyan claw, formed wholly from spiritual power, thrust out and slapped down on the Blood-River Chariot! The world-shaking blast carried a faint snarl of furious surprise from the Yin Bone Old Fiend.

QingFlood Dragon slipped away in a flash.

Before darkness swallowed his sight, Fu Changsheng glimpsed a rising column of cyan light far ahead, and within it the suggestion of a colossal avian—wings wide enough to canopy mountains—the Heavenly Dragon Beast’s phantom, the same Nascent Soul demon beast that had once guarded the Myriad Worlds Trial Tower!

Fu Changsheng guided QingFlood Dragon in jagged lines for thousands of li.

Only when he was certain no pursuer followed did he settle the grievously wounded Cang Jian in a hidden cave. He gathered the Green Emperor Longevity Technique again, pouring it steadily into her.

The Soul-Eroding Poison in her channels clung like bone to flesh, constantly gnawing at her life.

It wasn’t working.

Fu Changsheng beckoned at Xiao Qing by the cave mouth.

QingFlood Dragon slithered in, shrinking to a three-chi azure snake in a blink. It darted to Cang Jian’s side and raised its head, emerald slit-pupils flashing with a hint of greed—the poison was vicious, yes, but to a flood dragon famed for immunity to a hundred venoms, it was great tonic!

“Master… no…” Cang Jian rasped, shaking her head. “That poison… will backlash…”

“It’s fine,” Fu Changsheng said evenly. “Xiao Qing is an ancient aberrant breed. A mere Soul-Eroding Poison can’t touch it.”

Before his words finished, QingFlood Dragon clamped its jaws upon Cang Jian’s wrist.

A sibilant hiss sounded.

Strands of black qi writhed like living things, ripped from her meridians and drawn through the dragon’s fangs. Cang Jian grunted, sweat beading on her brow, but color returned to her face at a speed the naked eye could see.

QingFlood Dragon’s scales trembled. The verdant glaze of its armor deepened with a shadowy sheen. The green in its eyes grew darker. It rumbled low; dragon-blood boiled as it refined the poison by brute force, turning it into pure yin-fiend power and folding it into itself.

“What a tyrannical toxin,” Fu Changsheng murmured, inwardly aghast. Had QingFlood Dragon not been what it was, any ordinary cultivator would have been eaten alive by the backlash, leaving only a puddle of rot.

“Master, this spirit pet of yours is truly formidable,” Cang Jian said, puzzled. She had never heard of the young master keeping such a creature.

Fu Changsheng was thinking up a passable excuse—

But after devouring the poison, QingFlood Dragon’s dragon-blood surged. Its venom sac collided with the yin-fiend force, coalescing a weird pink mist in its belly. It grunted. Wisps of rosy haze seeped from between its scales, sheathing its whole length in an uncanny glow.

“Xiao Qing?” Fu Changsheng’s brows knit, sensing something amiss.

“Pft—”

QingFlood Dragon sneezed. Its rump drew tight, and a puff of pink smoke sprayed out!

The smoke drifted like gauze, perfuming the cave in an instant with a cloying sweetness. It slipped into the noses of Fu Changsheng and Cang Jian.

“Not good!” Fu Changsheng’s heart jumped. He shut his breath and revolved the Green Emperor Longevity Technique to resist. But this was no common miasma. It was the fusion of Soul-Eroding Poison with a flood dragon’s lust-sac—the Arousing Flood-Dragon Breath!

“Mm…” The pallor on Cang Jian’s face flushed at once. Her breathing quickened; a misty glaze welled in her eyes. Though the poison had been drawn away, her body was ragged to the limit and couldn’t resist the dragon-breath at all.

Fu Changsheng likewise felt heat roil up from his dantian. The qi and blood of the Imperial Court Dao Body boiled out of control. His meridians burned as if by fire; every inch of flesh and blood craved.

“Young Master…” Cang Jian murmured, mind adrift. Her slender fingers knotted in her clothes. Under the breath’s goad, her once-withered frame filled out, a rosy sheen glowing upon her skin.

“Cang Jian, hold your mind!” Fu Changsheng barked low, trying to drive the haze away with spiritual power. But the pink breath moved with a will, twining the two of them and refusing to disperse.

QingFlood Dragon cocked its head, entirely oblivious to the mess it had made. It even nosed the rosy smoke and snorted in contentment before coiling itself at the cave mouth and shutting its eyes to doze.

Cang Jian could bear it no longer. She stumbled against Fu Changsheng, her fevered body pressing close. Her fingertips traced his chest, trembling and hungry. “Young Master… this servant… cannot hold back…”

Fu Changsheng’s breath rasped. The fierce yang of the Imperial Court Dao Body and the breath’s arousal stacked upon each other, dragging his reason to the brink. He caught Cang Jian’s wrist in a grip. His voice was hoarse. “Cang Jian, do you know what you’re doing?”

“This servant… is willing…” Cang Jian lifted her face, tears glittering in her eyes yet filled with resolve.

The last of his restraint crumbled.

Clothes in disarray. Breath and heartbeat entwined.

The torrential yang of the Imperial Court Dao Body flooded into Cang Jian’s body.

Change struck like a thunderclap!

Upon Cang Jian’s back, an ancient sword-mark long held silent blazed to life. Frost-cold sword intent exploded like snow and ice, congealing nine phantom sword-shadows that circled her in the air. Each shadow bore a different sword-truth—some keen, some weighty, some ethereal, some violent…

“This is… the Nine Tribulations Sword-Soul Body?!”

Fu Changsheng’s pupils tightened, shaken to the core.

The Nine Tribulations Sword-Soul Body—supreme physique that sword-cultivators of antiquity dreamed of—born in resonance with the Way of the Sword, able to hold nine utterly different sword intents in one vessel. Too overbearing for most, it usually slew its host at awakening, the backlash of sword intent blasting the body to pieces.

That Cang Jian had lived this long was because some secret art had sealed the physique, sinking the sword souls into slumber. Now, the blazing yang of the Imperial Court Dao Body had not only undone the seal, it guided her with torrential qi and blood, helping her seize hold of the first sword soul—the Profound Fiend Sword Soul!

Fu Changsheng’s mind cleared to lucidity.

He had been stuck at the early stage of the Imperial Court Dao Body’s first layer, unable to break through. Yet in this dual cultivation, the sword-souls of her Nine Tribulations physique honed his meridians like blades, and the imperial yang tore open the hidden channels with wild force.

“Could the system’s reward for this crossing be precisely this cultivation opportunity for the Imperial Court Dao Body?”

Whatever the reason—

He would not waste it.

To reach mid-stage of the first layer, the Imperial Court Dao Body required the opening of twelve “nether meridians,” letting power course like a river without end. Ordinary cultivators would toil for centuries. Now, pricked by sword-soul stimulus, his nether meridians were pierced as if by ten thousand blades and opened at once!

A clear sword-chime rang through him. The twelve nether meridians were like naked blades unsheathed, edge bared. His circulating power now carried sharp sword intent. With a lift of his hand or a step of his foot, sword-qi would answer his will.

The Imperial Court Dao Body stepped, as if water finding its way, into mid-stage of the first layer.

Nor did only he profit.

Cang Jian, who had burned her essence and shattered her channels, now drank the nourishing yang. Her Nine Tribulations Sword-Soul Body fully awakened its first soul. The Profound Fiend Sword Soul, ravenous, devoured the last dregs of Soul-Eroding Poison in her and refined them into pure sword-essence!

Her withered frame was reforged under a thousand hammer-blows; every inch of flesh flashed with chill metallic light. The channels once broken knit back together under sword-essence, ten times tougher than before.

No one knew how long it was before the rosy haze finally thinned and drifted away.

Fu Changsheng woke with an easy breath.

His eyes fell upon Cang Jian, who still slept. His gaze lowered to her lower belly.

According to the effects of the Imperial Court Dao Body, at this moment, she already carried his child. He had come in person—so this world now truly bore Fu Changsheng’s bloodline.

“I wonder what functions come with mid-stage of the Imperial Court Dao Body’s first layer?”

As the thought formed—

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him.

He knew the feeling well from repeated crossings. He understood what it meant. He hadn’t expected the transit to be so short this time—cut the moment its aim was achieved, sending him back at once.

But Cang Jian hadn’t yet awakened.

In haste, Fu Changsheng slapped his storage pouch. A glow flared and a jade slip flew out—the title etched upon it: Sky-Vault Thunder-Shadow Sword Canon. With her Nine Tribulations Sword-Soul Body now awakened, this system-deduced sword canon would let Cang Jian carve out a sky of her own even after he left.

Hum!

In the next heartbeat, darkness swept his sight. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the thatch-hut within the Five Elements Space.

Inside the secret room, six bronze ancient lamps burned quietly. They cast Yao Yao’s seated form in light across stone walls carved with old runes. She was charging for mid Purple Mansion, the power in her dantian surging like a tide.

A soft hum—

The air in the chamber stalled.

Somewhere beyond sight, a profound force poured down as a silver pillar of ancient light, covering Yao Yao completely. Her eyes flew open; the power in her dantian boiled. Three phantom fox tails faintly unfurled at her back.

“This is…” Before Yao Yao could react, an airy, majestic voice rang in her mind: “Our clan’s bloodline returns this day.”

Within the silver radiance, Yao Yao’s body began to change. Her three thousand strands of black hair turned snow-white, their tips flowing with a moonlit halo. A nine-petaled demon-lotus mark bloomed at her brow, each petal bearing a different rhyme of the Dao. Three fox tails manifested in full behind her, each tip cradling a knot of origin fox-fire; her pupils narrowed into purple-gold vertical slits. Beyond them, six more tails hung in phantoms, not yet solid.

…

Meanwhile, in a shadowed place—

One hundred and eight Xuantian Chains pierced a Spirit-Sealing Pillar, pinning a white-robed woman fast. The chains were etched with ancient demon-binding sigils, each shedding a faint gold light, painting the space like a nether hell.

The woman’s head drooped, a fall of white hair masking her face. Her aura was so faint as to be nearly imperceptible, as if she had been dead for years. Dust lay thick upon the floor around the pillar; clearly, no one had come here for a long time.

Suddenly, a thread of silver-white light seeped from the woman’s body.

It started as a flicker, then flared bright. The one hundred and eight Xuantian Chains began to shudder violently, their sigils lighting one after another. Beneath the pale veil of hair, the woman’s lips curled, revealing a bewitching smile.

“At last… the time has come.”

Her voice was soft, yet unspeakably eerie. As she spoke, more complex sigils crawled over the Spirit-Sealing Pillar, and the underground space shook. The chains spearing her body linked one to the next, as if terrified she might break free.

Without a breath of wind, her white hair parted slowly to either side, revealing a face as pale as paper. Her eyes snapped open—bewitching vertical pupils, starlight spinning within, a light that seized the soul.

Thanks for reading—what a wild chapter: blade-edge breakthroughs, a desperate flight, and nine tails stirring! If you’re enjoying the ride, please consider supporting me on Patreon; even a small pledge keeps the translations steady and lets me tackle longer chapters. I’d also be super grateful if you could rate or follow the novel on NovelUpdates—those little clicks help new readers find the story.

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