ATAVID CH67

He stood blankly in place, his robes stained with the hot, pungent blood of demonic beasts, which clung to his skin with a damp chill. The pitch-black fabric swallowed the bloody color into a blurry smudge. A person who was usually fastidious about cleanliness, he currently lacked even the strength to raise his hand and cast a simple Cleansing Spell on himself.

The stench of blood around his nose was too thick to dissolve. Mixed with the snowy air carried by the winter wind, it forced its way into his nasal passages inch by inch, choking his throat tight. Fine, fragmented snow drifted across the lead-gray canopy of the sky, falling onto the battlefield that had just fallen silent, glaringly white.

The excruciating pain from the depths of his divine soul struck entirely without warning. It lasted for only a brief moment, yet it felt as if ten thousand ice needles were violently piercing through him, freezing the very blood in Wei Xun’s veins.

Everything around him blurred instantly. The howling wind and the sound of falling snow receded entirely. It was as though he were the only person left between heaven and earth; all light and shadow stretched out infinitely into floating illusions, turning into an irrelevant background.

Deep within his consciousness, demonic qi surged wildly, bearing the volatile urge of an imminent breakthrough, nearly tearing his mind completely apart.

Wei Xun’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. His lips retained not a single trace of color, and his body trembled uncontrollably, leaving him barely able to stand steady.

He suddenly wanted to tug the corners of his lips into a smile, but his cheeks were terribly stiff, unable to squeeze out even a shred of mirth. He felt he was truly overthinking things.

How could it be possible?

He thought, Jiang Qunyu is safe in Cloud Palace. He is merely a soul body; doesn’t he only encounter danger when he is by my side?

In Cloud Palace, he shouldn’t be able to get hurt.

But why was he suddenly unable to suppress his own consciousness?

Someone seemed to be calling his name by his ear, each cry more urgent than the last, but Wei Xun could no longer hear clearly. Those voices felt as if they were coming from an immense distance, separated by a thick layer of water, blurring into a chaotic hum.

He suddenly raised his hand, gripped the Soul-Devouring Sword, and plunged it straight into his own chest.

The moment the icy blade sank into his flesh, the sharp, stinging pain finally overrode the restless thrashing deep within his soul for a brief moment. He felt warm blood welling out along the blade, soaking his collar and spreading into a deeper, darker stain across the pitch-black fabric.

Yet that distraction lasted for only a fleeting second. In the next instant, the surging demonic qi retaliated with an even more violent fury, as if thoroughly enraged by his self-inflicted strike, tearing at his consciousness like mad.

In the end, he broke through after all.

The Sixth Layer of the Void Refinement Realm.

Wei Xun dropped to his knees in the snow. The Soul-Devouring Sword slipped from his hand, embedding itself diagonally into the pool of blood beside him. The blade was as pristine white as jade, yet at this moment, it reflected not a single glint of light—only his pale, nearly translucent profile.

His heart felt as though it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, aching with a dull throb.

The drifting snow floated down quietly, landing upon his body.

Wei Xun’s long eyelashes drooped slightly. He thought blankly: The winter of Xiping Year 46 is truly cold.

……

…………

Early Xiping Year 47.

New Year’s Eve in the Demon Realm remained boisterous and lively, yet the interior of the Demon Palace was as silent as an eternal sleep that would never see the dawn.

Xie Chuan stood outside the Jade Capital Tower, looking up at the top floor with a slight frown.

He didn’t even know how long it had been since Wei Xun last slept. It was bizarre, but ever since the day he returned from the battlefield, Wei Xun had been acting like a madman.

To travel from the Demon Realm border back to Cloud Palace would take a full two months even at maximum speed. Yet, resting neither day nor night, he had used a mere half-month to return to the heart of the realm.

The soldiers accompanying him possessed cultivation inferior to his and could not keep up with his pace at all. Showing not the slightest intention of delaying, he simply abandoned the army and returned to the city entirely alone.

No one knew why he had returned to the palace so far ahead of schedule. Everyone speculated in private that something catastrophic must have occurred in the Demon Realm, requiring his immediate handling.

It wasn’t until Xie Chuan finally arrived with the main force, searching every corner of the Demon Palace without finding a trace of Wei Xun, that he finally located him on the top floor of the Jade Capital Tower.

The youth looked as though he had been settled under a snowfall that would never melt, sitting in absolute silence. His eyes were heavily bloodshot, his eye sockets deeply hollowed out from a prolonged lack of sleep. Those dark eyes, usually unfathomably deep, were currently terrifyingly hollow, leaving behind only a dead, blank void.

For some reason, the interior of the Jade Capital Tower was a complete shambles. Shattered jade railings, overturned tables and chairs, and fragments of the spiritual spring basin were scattered across the floor.

The window of the top floor was wide open, allowing the cold wind to carry fine snow inside, accumulating a thin layer of white across the room.

No one had cleaned this place.

And no one dared to.

Hearing the footsteps, Wei Xun snapped his head around. His fingertips trembled imperceptibly. When he lifted his eyelids to look over, a fleeting glint of hope was buried deep within his eyes.

But the moment he clearly saw that the person arriving was Xie Chuan, that tiny spark of light extinguished instantly. The frost that had barely cracked layered itself over his features once more, freezing to the very bone.

After a long while, he turned his head back, pursing his lips. His voice was hoarse, carrying a hostility that kept people thousands of miles away: “Get out.”

Xie Chuan did not know whom Wei Xun was waiting for, but he truly looked like someone waiting for a person whose return date was completely unknown.

In the days that followed, Xie Chuan would come up to take a look every few days.

The top floor consistently maintained its appearance from that first day; no one had moved a single brick or tile. Wei Xun always sat by the window, staring toward a specific direction, completely motionless.

Sometimes Xie Chuan would come in the early morning and see him sitting there; if he came in the dead of night, he was still there.

He didn’t know if his master had closed his eyes at all. He only saw that the blood vessels in his eyes grew heavier day by day, and his complexion turned paler by the day, resembling a stone statue slowly weathering away.

Though the other Protectors didn’t say it openly, it was inevitable that at certain moments, some dissatisfaction would arise.

Implicitly, no one understood why Wei Xun, over the past half-month—after slaughtering the several Great Mahayana Realm demon cultivators who were originally supposed to guard the outside of the Jade Capital Tower—had stepped into the tower, confined himself to that high structure, and completely ceased to participate in the affairs of the Demon Palace.

White Tiger held his long sword tightly in his arms. The scar that traversed half of his cheek grew increasingly distorted along with his grim expression, his tone displeased.

“Azure Dragon, the Lord’s actions this time are simply far too reckless. Those Great Mahayana demon cultivators merely left the vacant tower temporarily; it wasn’t as if they abandoned their duties altogether. Furthermore, it was to protect that Lord Shen who came from the cultivation world. Aside from the damage to the top floor, the rest of the Jade Capital Tower wasn’t harmed in the slightest. Why did the Lord have to resort to such a ruthless hand, wiping them out completely?”

Xie Chuan’s footsteps halted abruptly, a sudden chill emanating from his body. He turned his face, his cold, piercing gaze locking onto White Tiger. His fingertips had quietly settled onto the hilt of his sword, his voice as icy as a frozen blade: “The Master’s actions have their own reasons; it is not for others to dictate. White Tiger, do you wish to die beneath my sword?”

White Tiger’s face instantly turned ashen. His throat bobbed, but ultimately fearing Xie Chuan, he gnashed his teeth and shut his mouth.

Only after Xie Chuan had walked far away did he let out a cold snort, speaking expressionlessly to Black Tortoise beside him: “He is nothing but a dog the Lord raised by his side. Relying on the master’s favoritism to lord it over me—he really thinks he’s someone important.”

However, these voices fell far behind Xie Chuan’s ears; he didn’t take them to heart.

He did not pledge allegiance to the demon race; he only pledged allegiance to Wei Xun.

Even though he didn’t know why his master had killed those demon cultivators, as long as it was done by Wei Xun, he would never stand on the opposing side.

This abrupt slaughter quickly set off massive waves within the Demon Palace.

The demon servants and maids inside the halls were all as quiet as cicadas in winter, acting with extreme caution, even softening their footsteps when they walked.

After all, in their eyes, those Great Mahayana demon cultivators had clearly left their posts at the Jade Capital Tower temporarily to protect the Lord’s heavily cherished Lord Shen, only to end up with their souls shattered and their corpses incomplete. It was truly too pitiable.

Consequently, the prestige Wei Xun had painstakingly built up by fighting across all directions and shedding blood on the battlefields for the Demon Realm became precarious once more under the rumors that “the Lord’s temperament is volatile” and “the Lord is cruel and bloodthirsty.”

The private gossip never ceased, even mixing in some speculation: “The Lord shouldn’t actually like that Lord Shen, right? If he truly cared, how could he kill the people who went to protect him?”

Sometimes, a maid would whisper in response: “But two years ago, Lord Azure Dragon already said that the Lord and that immortal cultivator are merely engaged in a transaction. Back then, didn’t he directly expel several demon servants who were spreading rumors from the palace?”

The demon servant who spoke first felt a loss of face, stubbornly replying: “Back then, who knew if Lord Azure Dragon was intentionally trying to frighten us. Besides, so many people have whispered about it in secret, so it’s not wrong for us to think that way either.”

The maid was left speechless.

In the early spring of Xiping Year 47, aside from Wei Xun, no soul knew that he had lost Jiang Qunyu once again.

……

…………

Wei Xun never stepped out of the Jade Capital Tower again.

Xie Chuan found himself with nothing to do, spending his days squatting beneath the trees outside the Jade Capital Tower, plucking out the wild grass that had managed to sprout, one by one.

He was terrified that his master would no longer want him. He plucked grass during the day and slept propped against the tree trunks at night.

It wasn’t until half a month later that Wei Xun finally emerged from the Jade Capital Tower.

He was enveloped in a gloomy shroud, violent demonic qi churning silently at his side. He looked thoroughly exhausted and sinister, his state deteriorated to the absolute limit.

Having guarded the outside of the tower for half a month, Xie Chuan immediately leapt down from the slanting branch the moment he spotted his figure, his tone bursting with joy: “Master, you’ve finally come out.”

Wei Xun gave him a listless glance, evaluating his messy hair: “You should at least clean yourself up. Anyone who doesn’t know better would think you’re a beggar following me.”

Xie Chuan grinned and ran his hands through his hair a couple of times. “Master, where are we going now?”

The dark pupils of Wei Xun’s eyes shifted slowly, the frost within them deepening into a murderous intent as he spoke with a biting chill, every word laced with ice: “To kill someone.”

Xie Chuan asked no further questions, obediently following behind Wei Xun.

He didn’t know where Wei Xun was headed either, merely following him as they navigated through Cloud Palace for a long time, the path growing increasingly desolate.

The night was as dark as spilled ink, with a cold moon hanging high in the firmament.

Following from behind, Xie Chuan watched Wei Xun’s back. That silhouette remained exactly as it had always been—cold, solitary, like a sword that, once unsheathed, would never be recalled.

Yet he constantly felt that something had changed. He couldn’t quite put it into words, but it felt as if that sword had accumulated a few invisible cracks upon its blade.

Finally, Wei Xun stopped his steps before a dense forest.

He summoned the Soul-Devouring Sword, tracing a brilliant arc like a full moon in mid-air, causing a downpour of frost to rustle down instantly.

A wretched scream pierced the air.

Xie Chuan’s eyes darted around. Without waiting for Wei Xun to act, he had already surged into the treetops. Before long, he leapt down while dragging a severely wounded figure, tossing him casually at Wei Xun’s feet with a light tut: “Incredibly weak.”

The person curled up on the ground, covered in wounds, his robes tattered, his face bruised and battered, cut so terribly that his original appearance was nearly unrecognizable. Shivering violently, he raised his head. The moment he laid eyes on Wei Xun, a towering hatred surged in his gaze, only to be suppressed into silence by sheer terror.

The edges of Wei Xun’s eyes were already flaring with a faint black haze. Xie Chuan stiffened, and without a second thought, turned and bolted.

What a joke—he had never seen anyone survive beneath those black eyes when his master unleashed his full power.

It simply made no distinction between ally and foe.

Wei Xun ignored him. He leaned down slightly, a non-human aura diffusing from his body. With him as the center, an endless black tide rapidly spread outward, freezing everything in the surroundings into stagnation.

Wei Xun frowned, lowering his gaze to look at the male cultivator on the ground whose eyes were filled with panic and hatred. After studying him for a moment, he finally recalled who he was, his features unable to conceal his disgust: “Wei Miao? To think you aren’t dead yet.”

Wei Miao hated Wei Xun to the core. Just a little more, just a little more…

He would have been able to leave Cloud Palace.

Over the past month, he had lived in constant fear day after day, terrified that Wei Xun would track him down, forcing him to hide everywhere in an incredibly wretched existence. However, Cloud Palace had always been easy to enter but difficult to leave. Ever since Wei Xun ordered the city sealed, he had become like a bird trapped in a cage, unable to fly out even if he grew wings.

With great difficulty, he had managed to catch a rumor that today, the third day of the third lunar month, was precisely Wei Xun’s birthday. The Demon Realm always celebrated grandly at this time, and the city’s defenses would be a few degrees laxer than usual.

He had intended to seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to thoroughly escape Cloud Palace, but he had never imagined that the person who would ultimately come to capture him would be Wei Xun himself.

“How did you find out I was here?” Wei Miao’s face turned ashen, wishing he could leap forward and tear Wei Xun into ten thousand pieces on the spot. “Could it be that Yin Zhu didn’t die?! Did he betray my location?!”

But he had distinctly seen Yin Zhu leap down from the Jade Capital Tower as if he had gone completely mad.

“Oh.” A cold smile curled at the corners of Wei Xun’s lips. “Are you referring to that pile of mangled, bloody flesh beneath the Jade Capital Tower?”

Wei Miao froze, instinctively blurting out: “Yin Zhu… is truly dead?”

He had only dared to catch a distant glimpse that day. Seeing that the group of brainless demon cultivators from the Blood Moon Pavilion had returned, he had quickly disguised himself as a palace attendant to flee in a hurry.

He had assumed Yin Zhu might still have a backup plan or some way to escape from the Jade Capital Tower, but hearing Wei Xun’s tone…

Wei Xun spoke with casual amusement: “He is dead, but he won’t die that easily.”

The aura around him turned completely freezing as he enunciated word by word: “Even if he goes to the Nine Serenities and the River of Forgetfulness, this Venerable One will personally imprison his soul, making it so he cannot die when he wishes to die, and cannot live when he wishes to live.”

Wei Miao had never seen Wei Xun like this.

In his memory, Wei Xun had always been pure and radiant like a solitary moon suspended in the sky, cold and lonely—never like this freezing, sinister phantom before him, resembling a malicious ghost that had crawled back from the Nine Serenities, his body enveloped in a heart-stopping malice.

Those eyes were far too black.

They were so dark they seemed capable of swallowing all light; even the moonlight landing upon them failed to stir the slightest ripple. Staring into those eyes, Wei Miao suddenly felt something crawl across his spine—cold, slimy, like a snake.

For some reason, a wave of profound dread surged in Wei Miao’s heart.

Perhaps the passing of these decades had caused him to forget that Wei Xun was no longer the blind youth trapped within the water dungeon of the Lingxiao Sect, whom he could torment at his whim.

Yet the hatred accumulated deep within his heart over the years ultimately overrode that speck of fear.

With a venomous gaze, Wei Miao steeled himself and barked sharply: “If he’s dead, he’s dead, what does it have to do with me?! Wei Xun! It was you who caused Father to slaughter the entire Lingxiao Sect, killing my grandfather and my mother! If not for you, why would I have to live such a painful, wretched life for so many years?! What, do you mean to kill me now as well?”

“His death naturally has something to do with you.” Wei Xun let out a sigh. “Can you guess how this Venerable One located you?”

A flash of terror crossed Wei Miao’s face, his carefully composed pretense of composure finally cracking completely.

“This Venerable One found a curse-worm within his body.” Wei Xun’s freezing fingertips suddenly choked Wei Miao’s neck, watching his face turn purple from suffocation as the amusement in his eyes deepened. “And the sub-worm of that curse happens to reside on you. Tell me, isn’t that quite a coincidence?”

Wei Miao gasped heavily for air, suddenly remembering the bizarre occurrences over the past half-month—

Every single time he believed he was on the verge of escaping Cloud Palace, the guards at the city gates would suddenly tighten restrictions, resembling a massive net that constantly kept him trapped within.

He had assumed it was bad luck, assumed the timing was wrong, assumed the ripples left behind after Yin Zhu’s death hadn’t settled yet. He had never considered that Wei Xun had been watching him the entire time.

His entire body shook as he stumbled out a roar: “It’s… it’s you… You already… you knew where I was long ago, you’ve been playing with me this whole time!”

“Otherwise?” Wei Xun casually released him. His palm condensed slightly as he forced a pill into Wei Miao’s mouth, sneering, “Isn’t it fun this way?”

The pill was wrapped in piercing demonic qi, melting the instant it entered his mouth, scattering into his limbs and bones to bring about a heart-wrenching agony.

Wei Miao panicked completely, desperately trying to break free from his grip. He shoved his fingers deep into his throat, crouching on the ground and dry-heaving uncontrollably: “What… what did you make me eat?!”

“Ha.” Wei Xun looked down at him from above, his eyes devoid of any pity. “It matters not, it isn’t poison. This Venerable One merely wishes to ask you a few questions.”

Wei Miao’s face turned deathly pale as he shook his head repeatedly, weeping and screaming in a breakdown: “No, no, no… Wei Xun, kill me! Just kill me!”

Whether it was that person or Wei Xun, neither would let him have an easy time.

He had treated Wei Xun that way in the past; Wei Xun would absolutely retaliate a hundredfold.

The black haze within Wei Xun’s eyes swirled slowly, like a pool of bottomless water.

He cast a disgusted look at Wei Miao before stating: “You were the one who directed Yin Zhu to the Jade Capital Tower.”

It was a statement, not a question.

After all, in Wei Xun’s view, given the absolute lack of brains Yin Zhu possessed, he could never have thought of the Jade Capital Tower. The mastermind behind the scenes could naturally only be this good younger brother of his.

Wei Miao desperately wanted to end his own life, but under the absolute restriction of the black eyes, he was fundamentally incapable of defying Wei Xun’s will.

A word was forced out of his throat uncontrollably: “…Yes.”

Hearing himself confess it out loud, Wei Miao’s eyes were instantly submerged in despair.

Wei Xun’s face turned thoroughly cold. He squatted down, extending his hand as his slender fingertips gripped Wei Miao’s right wrist.

Crack.

A crisp snapping sound.

Before Wei Miao’s scream could leave his mouth, his left wrist was crushed as well.

The agonizing pain struck, causing him to let out a wretched shriek.

Wei Miao convulsed entirely from the pain, tears streaming down his face, yet his hatred did not diminish in the slightest. Gnashing his teeth as blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, he forced the words out of his throat one by one: “So what if it was me?! Even if I die, I will destroy everything you care about!”

Wei Xun watched him expressionlessly. His fingers remained resting on Wei Miao’s shattered wrist bones, pressing down unhurriedly. Listening to the subtle grinding of the bone fragments, it was as if he were toying with an amusing trinket.

“How did you get in?” he asked. “Who told you to go to the Jade Capital Tower?”

“It was the Demon Fall Bead…” Wei Miao was horrified to the point of desperation, wishing nothing more than to die on the spot, but his voice continued to spill out uncontrollably, “It was…”

Pfft—

Before the words could fully leave his lips, he suddenly sprayed out a mouthful of fresh blood.

In the next instant, his entire condition deteriorated drastically. His face turned as white as paper, cold sweat violently soaking through his garments as he curled on the ground, wailing wretchedly: “It hurts… it hurts so much… Kill me, Wei Xun, kill me!”

Wei Xun kept his eyes lowered to stare at him. After a long while, he stated with certainty: “A restriction was placed upon you.”

Wei Miao could no longer hear what he was saying, his mouth continuously repeating nothing but pleas: “Kill me…”

Wei Xun slowly straightened his body, looking down upon him from his height.

The moonlight fell upon his face, accentuating the profound depth of his entirely black eyes. The corners of his lips slowly curled into a smile, resembling a compassionate deity showing pity to the wretched ant beneath his feet.

Wei Xun’s lips maintained that freezing smile as he looked at the agonized Wei Miao on the ground, speaking: “You won’t die so easily. After all, you are this Venerable One’s younger brother. This Venerable One will naturally ‘treat you exceedingly well’.”

The black domain churning around him gradually receded.

Seeing this from afar, Xie Chuan immediately gathered his qi and flew over.

Wei Xun reclaimed the Qiankun pouch that Wei Miao had taken, standing up to command flatly: “Throw him into the dark dungeon. He is not allowed to die.”

“Yes.” Xie Chuan joyfully scooped up the half-dead Wei Miao, intending to keep pace with Wei Xun.

Wei Xun’s mood was foul to the extreme. He cast a freezing glance at him: “Back down.”

“Oh.” Xie Chuan had no choice but to shoulder the half-dead Wei Miao, leaping into the forest to depart.

The cold moonlight cast a scattering of fragmented shadows through the trees.

Xie Chuan bounded rapidly through the silhouettes of the trees. For some reason, he constantly felt that his master’s back looked incredibly pitiable.

As if his Dao companion had died.

Wei Xun returned to the Jade Capital Tower.

The cold steps paved with white jade felt immensely long and desolate as he climbed them step by step.

His pace was listless, his body still carrying the residual, dense gloom that had not yet dissipated.

A draft of wind rushed through the hall from somewhere, causing the leaves outside the tower to rustle loudly.

Wei Xun kept his eyes lowered. Suddenly, the strands of hair atop his head stirred gently.

In the next instant, he heard a familiar voice drift down lightly.

The youth’s voice was lazy, carrying a few hints of resentment as he spoke in an annoyed tone:

“Wei Xun, I’m about to starve to death. Hurry up and feed me some blood.”

Wei Xun’s footsteps halted abruptly, freezing him dead in his tracks.