Shen Xi produced an elixir from her robes. The vial holding it appeared crafted from glass interwoven with glacial ice, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. As she uncorked it, a mist of frost billowed forth, swirling like living breath in the cold air.
With deliberate grace, she transferred the elixir to her other hand and tipped it into the unconscious Ling Chen's mouth. The moment the liquid touched his lips, it flowed inward like liquid moonlight, seeping into his hollowed body.
Within four or five seconds, visible changes rippled through him. His previously withered frame—a mere shell after the soul extraction—began to regain subtle vitality.
Not full restoration, but enough that his chest now rose and fell with steadier breaths, his pallor less deathly.
Shen Xi rose, her frost-blue robes whispering against the ground. Her gaze shifted to the Family Lord's daughter, Ling wei, and her voice cut through the silence like a blade:
"You should understand—what I just used on this boy is beyond value. Even if the Royal Families of this Kingdom poured their entire fortunes at my feet, they could not purchase a single drop." A pause, her eyes glacial.
"He is fortunate I carried this gift from my Master, reserved for emergencies."
Xue Mo and Scarlet Enchantress's exchanged glances, their crimson eyes flashing with grim understanding. "It seems we won't be leaving here easily," the Scarlet Enchantress hissed through clenched teeth.
Xue Mo tightened his grip on the pulsating artifact, its dragon-turtle carvings writhing impatiently. "And wiping out this clan? Impossible now," he muttered. "But time works against us - this artifact must reach our Young Master at the Blood Moon Sect before its power dissipates."
His fingers trembled against the relic's obsidian surface. "Every second we delay degrades its value. All our efforts... everything we've do will be for nothing if we don't depart immediately."
Xue Mo sneered, raising his hand. The sinister artifact—still pulsing with Ling Chen's stolen soul—was suddenly sucked into the black ring adorning his finger.
The storage ring glowed briefly as it sealed the artifact within its dimensional space, its obsidian surface swallowing the relic whole like a predator devouring its prey.
Shen Xi turned her frost-cold gaze upon Xue Mo and Scarlet Enchantress's , her voice cutting through the air like winter wind: "You haven't left yet? Go.
Now." Her eyes flashed with barely contained power. "And remember this - from this moment forward, no harm shall come to this clan. They now enjoy the protection of our sect."
Hearing her words, Xue Mo and the Scarlet Enchantress stiffened slightly. Their bodies tensed as they bowed reluctantly, teeth grinding audibly. Their voices came out strained, as if forced against their will:
"We... thank you for your mercy, Senior." The words tasted like poison on their tongues. "This clan is no longer our concern. You need not worry about any interference from our side."
Shen Xi's frost-blue eyes narrowed. "Need not worry?" Her laugh was colder than mountain ice. "You misunderstand. It's not me who should be concerned - but you."
She stepped forward, her white robes swirling like a gathering blizzard. "When you crawl back to your sect, deliver this message to your Master: Ask him about the true power of our sect.
Ask him... who we are, "That I'm letting you leave alive today? This is mercy you'll never receive again."
As Shen Xi spoke these words, the very air around her crystallized. An unnatural frost began spreading from her feet, the ground cracking with jagged ice patterns as the temperature plummeted violently.
The moisture in the air turned to glittering snowflakes mid-fall, suspended around her like a frozen halo.
Xue Mo and the Scarlet Enchantress instinctively stepped back, their breath now visible as white mist.
Proof this was no ordinary chill, but the Frost Ice Flame Sect's signature power.
With a spatial distortion, Xue Mo and the Scarlet Enchantress teleported upwards into the sky.
As they vanished, their final act was to glare furiously at Ling Chen's unconscious form, teeth grinding audibly before disappearing completely.
Watching the two depart, all the clan elders collectively exhaled in relief, their tense shoulders finally relaxing. A single thought echoed through their minds: "We've survived... for now.
Shen Xi's gaze locked onto Ling Wei. 'Five days,' she commanded the Family Lord's daughter, her frost-laced tone brooking no argument, Then we depart for the sect." With those words, she vanished into the frost-laden wind.
The moment she disappeared, the Family Lord and elders exchanged weighted glances. "Treat the wounded immediately," the Family Lord commanded. Then his eyes fell upon Ling Zhan (Ling Chen's father), and his voice grew heavy: "Ling Zhan... make arrangements for his last rites."
With that final order, the Family Lord too departed. Several clansmen moved to carry Ling Chen and those elders too injured to walk from the platform back to the manor homes.
Within moments, the once-chaotic awakening platform stood completely empty—only shattered tiles and fading frost marking where destiny had been rewritten.
Nearly two days had passed since the tragedy.
In Ling Chen's manor, his mother—now awake—sat hollow-eyed, her tears long dried after learning of her husband's death and her son's condition. Beside her, Ling-Mei clutched her mother's sleeve.
"Mother, please don't worry," Ling Mei whispered, her child's voice trembling yet determined. "Once Brother wakes up, he'll make everything right again."
The mother didn't respond. Her gaze remained fixed on Ling Chen, unconscious on the bed beside them—his breathing shallow, his body still as death.
His spiritual sea showed signs of stabilization. Seated in a cultivation formation, Ling Chen suddenly opened his eyes within this inner realm and stood abruptly.
He moved toward the colossal golden gate, touching its surface and stepping through.
Everything inside appeared unchanged. "So they only extracted one of my Martial Souls," he mused, a grim smile forming. "They never realized I possessed two. Fortune favors me in this."
His gaze dropped to the infinity symbol glowing on his palm. "But I still don't understand what this means. No matter—I must return to the real world. Who knows what those two have done .
As he spoke, the infinity mark pulsed. The fields of primordial herbs around him began dissolving into what seemed like black fog—but Ling Chen looked closer.
These weren't vapors; nanoparticles were harvesting the herbs, their microscopic precision making the process resemble mist rising.
The particles dismantled the herbs, reconstituting them into a concentrated essence that streamed directly into his spiritual body.
The moment the herb-infused fog merged with his soul, Ling Chen's physical form began regenerating. His previously frail body now radiated vitality. His hair had grown long and turned an unnatural, luminous white—not the pale shade of age, but like freshly fallen snow. His features sharpened into otherworldly beauty, and his stature stretched.
Once the size of a five-year-old, his body now mirrored a twelve-year-old's maturity.
Ling Chen's consciousness surged back to the real world. His eyes snapped open—and his entire demeanor shifted instantly. A chilling laugh erupted from his lips as he declared: "Blood Moon Sect... I'm coming for you."
The manic laughter drew his sister Ling Mei and a family elder rushing into the room. The elder froze, staring at Ling Chen's transformed appearance. "Who— What are you?" he stammered.
"I am Ling Chen," the boy replied calmly.
The elder cautiously approached, gripping Ling Chen's wrist to check his pulse. His expression darkened. "Your body has healed miraculously... but your Martial Soul is gone. You'll live as a mortal now." He sighed. "You must be strong for your mother and sister."
Ling Chen remained silent, thoughts churning. When he finally spoke, it was measured: "Elder... how is my mother?"
"First, explain this transformation!" the elder demanded.
"I don't know," Ling Chen lied smoothly. "I woke like this."
The elder's eyes narrowed before he relented. "It must be Senior Shen Xi's elixir. In two days, she returns to take Ling Wei to the sect. You should personally thank her—our clan's survival hinges on her mercy."
"Of course, Elder," Ling Chen agreed. "I'll express my gratitude when she comes."
As the elder turned to leave, Ling Chen's voice turned icy: "And my father?"
The elder paused but didn't look back. "What happened to him... was an accident. This world belongs to the strong. Forget revenge—focus on protecting your mother and sister now." With that, he departed, leaving Ling Chen staring at the ceiling, his white hair glowing like fresh snow in the moonlight.
Ling Mei tugged at her brother's sleeve, her voice urgent. "Brother, now that you're healed, please go to Mother. She hasn't eaten or spoken in two days."
Ling Chen rose immediately, striding to his mother's chamber. When he opened the door, her hollow eyes lit with recognition. "My son… you're recovered?"
Behind him, Ling Mei clapped her hands. "See, Mother? Brother will make everything right! Won't you?" she pressed, hope cutting through the gloom.
"Of course," Ling Chen assured, kneeling beside his mother's bed. "No more worries. I'll fix this."
His mother grasped his hand, her grip frail. "If you're truly well… then all will be well."
Ling Chen turned to Ling Mei. "Fetch dinner. We'll eat together here tonight."
His sister darted out, returning swiftly with steaming dishes. The three sat cross-legged on the floor, sharing a silent meal—their first moment of peace since the tragedy.
Alone in his room, Ling Chen stared at the ceiling, sleep eluding him.
"I must advance my cultivation quickly," he whispered into the dark. "The Family Lord said the great sects recruit disciples in five years. I must join them… only then can I regain my strength."
The thought lingered as exhaustion finally pulled him into uneasy dreams.
Ling Chen stood frozen in his mother's empty chamber, a single letter clutched in his hand. The words glared up at him:
"Son, do not worry. Do not search for me. I return to my parents' clan. Protect your sister."
The paper crumpled in his grip. "She wouldn't abandon us… unless forced." His mind raced. "Father and Mother never spoke of her clan before—not to me, not to Ling Mei. This is no ordinary departure."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "If I still had my cultivation, I could track her. But now?" He flexed his hands—no qi surged through his meridians. "I can't even defeat a common thug, let alone storm an unknown clan."
The letter fluttered to the floor as Ling Chen made a silent vow: "First, regain power. Then, unearth the truth."