Volume One: The Monarch's Decree Chapter Eighty-Two: The Sudden Appearance of the Soul-Guiding Light

“Retreat! Pull back, now!” Dao Xuzi’s eyes were bloodshot with desperation as he watched his disciples charge forward, one after another, into the storm of fiery rain falling from the sky. The sheer force of the magic contained within the flames was enough to chill the heart.

But with an army of a hundred thousand already in motion, it was impossible to halt their advance. The citizens and soldiers of Flame City were swept up in the destruction, with only the people of Mount Everlasting having withdrawn in time to escape disaster.

Ma Deren grinned wickedly. “Dao Xuzi, does this pain you? There’s even more fun to come!” He raised his hand and flung a broken blade toward the center of the inferno. The weapon tore a rift in the sky, from which a cold green radiance flickered and spread.

Anyone struck by the green light instantly dropped their weapons and collapsed, unable to rise—a whole swath of disciples fell, slowly consumed by the flames.

“Get back! That’s the Soul-Drawing Divine Light!” Bai Yiting recognized it at once. Anyone touched by that light would have their soul forcibly torn from their body; should the soul remain away too long, it would dissolve into the void.

Dao Xuzi heard him and quickly flung a handkerchief into the air, trying to block the divine light. But even the cloth, under its radiance, was swiftly corroded to tatters.

In that brief moment, the soldiers finally realized the danger and began a mass retreat, but again, many perished in the chaos.

Ma Deren pocketed his treasure orb, slung his bronze hammer over his back, and leapt back a dozen yards, joining Ma Mingyuan and shielding him from Bai Yiting’s attacks. Together, they withdrew to Mount Everlasting’s main force.

“Our goal is achieved! Mount Everlasting disciples, withdraw!” Ma Deren let out a wild whoop, leading his people in a boisterous retreat from the city’s other side. Dao Xuzi wanted to pursue, but the raging fires made it impossible for now.

Without the help of mechanical puppets, crossing the fireline was as difficult as ascending the heavens. “Fall back three miles! We’ll wait for the flames to die down before making further plans.”

“Sect Leader, the Soul-Drawing Divine Light is following us!” a disciple cried in terror. Time and again the light swept over them, felling them like stalks of wheat.

Liu Xiaoyi felt something heat up in his arms. Trembling, he reached inside and pulled out the bronze key left to him by Dao Xuanzi.

No sooner had he taken it out than the divine light enveloped him. The others tried to save him, but it was too late—Liu Xiaoyi vanished into the radiance.

“Master, where has he gone?” Meng Qiaoqiao cried in alarm, desperate for Liu Xiaoyi’s safety and ready to rush into the light herself, but Bai Yiting grabbed her back.

“He has the key’s protection—he should be safe for now. If you go, it’s certain death. Without the proper artifact, I couldn’t bring you back!” Bai Yiting’s face was more solemn than ever; Meng Qiaoqiao rarely saw her master so composed and serious.

He ordered a table brought, lit the Seven Star Sacred Lamp, and began a ritual with his whisk, seeking to stabilize the souls torn from their bodies and buy time.

“It seems my junior’s great secret all these years was the Soul-Drawing Divine Light. May that youth succeed, and save the many disciples of the Heavenly King Sect and the people of this city.”

Dao Xuzi stood not far away, his face ashen and soiled, his eyes bright as he watched Bai Yiting’s ritual dance, lost in thought.

Shortly after Ma Deren’s departure, the heavenly fire died down, the flames losing their anchor without the treasure orb, and soon subsided. But the rift remained, with the Soul-Drawing Divine Light pouring ceaselessly from within. Thankfully, its range was limited—beyond it, there was no danger.

Everyone waited in silence, hoping against hope that Liu Xiaoyi, drawn into the rift, could turn the tide.

“Little Gold, are we alive or dead?”

Liu Xiaoyi was dizzy from the fall, stars spinning before his eyes, unable to see his surroundings. He felt as if his organs had shifted; he wanted to cough but had no strength.

A damp sensation on his cheek—Little Gold was gently licking him, but even the usually lively dog did not dare move in this strange place. Strange green orbs floated nearby.

After some time, Liu Xiaoyi cleared his head and looked around. “What is this place? It’s like the netherworld—am I dead after all?”

Beneath his feet was utter blackness; there was no ground, no shadow. As the old saying goes, ghosts have no shadow—if one loses their shadow, they’ve become a ghost.

But Little Gold whimpered, raising a paw toward the sky. All around floated green orbs of various sizes. Looking closer, Liu Xiaoyi saw miniature human figures within, their faces sometimes confused, sometimes contorted in pain, drifting with the shifting glow.

“Welcome to the Lesser Soul Domain. All these before you are souls drawn in by the Soul-Drawing Divine Light.” A voice approached—familiar, soothing, Liu Xiaoyi felt no fear.

The orbs parted, revealing a figure who resembled Dao Xuzi.

“Senior Dao Xuanzi, you’re alive?”

“When I discovered this Soul-Drawing Divine Light, I was too greedy. I tried to claim it for myself—and ended up like this.” Dao Xuanzi explained he had found a stray thread of the light here, no thicker than a hair, and thought its power within his capacity. He lingered over ten years, trying to refine it.

But even a single strand was beyond a mortal’s endurance; not only did he fail to subdue it, the light revived itself using his own body, leading to the present disaster.

In this place, the divine light was sovereign, treating souls as nourishment and barring them from the cycle of reincarnation.

“You brought the key at just the right time. I’ll offer you a great opportunity—take the Soul-Drawing Divine Light. What do you say?” Dao Xuanzi summoned the orbs, which floated around him, emitting a mystical melody.

Liu Xiaoyi was wary. “But, Senior, you’ve suffered from this light. I dare not claim it.”

“This time it’s foolproof. I’ve studied the soul my whole life; one failure is enough. It won’t happen again.” Dao Xuanzi sounded confident, though his spectral form wavered with emotion.

“Can I refuse? I’m only fifteen…”

“If you don’t subdue the Soul-Drawing Divine Light, you can’t leave. And if these souls are absorbed, who knows what disaster will follow?”

Dao Xuanzi’s remnant soul and the light had become intertwined; his release depended on Liu Xiaoyi’s help.

The soul orbs seemed to understand and circled Liu Xiaoyi, pleading silently. He saw the young disciples of the Heavenly King Sect, the volunteers from Yanliang Prefecture—all their faces, and finally steeled himself. “Senior, how can I subdue the divine light?”

“Take that cloth bag in the corner. Inside are a circlet and a crystal cup. Use the cup to contain the light, and wear the circlet to protect your mind—then you can capture it.”

Dao Xuanzi had prepared everything here, but did not foresee he would have to battle the divine light with his soul. In the end, his decades-old soul was no match and was soon defeated.

At the last moment, Dao Xuanzi split his soul by secret arts—one half, with the bronze key, escaped; the other remained trapped with the divine light.

When Liu Xiaoyi put on the circlet woven from branches and gently twisted the crystal cup, Dao Xuanzi vanished, shrinking into the cup.

“Open your mouth and drink me down. The rest is up to your fate.” Dao Xuanzi’s voice echoed from within.

Pinching his nose, Liu Xiaoyi drank the glowing green liquid.

It was agony. Instead of flowing to his prepared dantian, the divine light shot straight to his mind—the most fragile part of a person, where the soul resides—and wracked him with pain.

Struck as if by lightning, Liu Xiaoyi collapsed, foaming at the mouth, his body convulsing. His vision shifted as his soul was assaulted—the Soul-Drawing Divine Light darted toward his soul, eager to strip it away.

But the circlet on his head released a power into his mind, forming black chains to bind the divine light tightly.

The light struggled to break free, but the chains clung tenaciously, wearing it down. Liu Xiaoyi realized Dao Xuanzi’s preparations were working, so he rolled up his sleeves and leapt at the light, biting down hard.

No one had told him how to subdue the divine light—so, lacking other means, he used his mouth.

“It actually tastes pretty good. Sweet, even.”

The light was soft as cotton candy, with a hint of sweetness; now, bound by Dao Xuanzi’s remnant soul, it could do nothing as Liu Xiaoyi devoured it piece by piece.

Within Flame City, where the fires had just died, devastation stretched as far as the eye could see. The Heavenly King Sect’s army had no place to settle, crowding against the city walls to rest.

The mountain lords stood atop the walls, gazing at the strange green rift in the sky. Outside the city, Bai Yiting performed a ritual, sweat streaming from his brow.

“Brother Liu is sure to survive—he’s always been lucky. You two needn’t worry too much.”

Seeing Liu Xiaoyi’s life hang in the balance once again, Xiao Qingshu and Meng Qiaoqiao were beside themselves with anxiety. Several times they tried to use magic to break through the rift, but each time Dao Xuzi stopped them.

“Wait a little longer. The divine light’s energy isn’t inexhaustible—many treasures could hold it back for a time, and with Dao Xuanzi’s preparations, Liu Xiaoyi has at least a fifty percent chance to break free.”

“Look over there at Priest Bai! Something’s happening!” a sharp-eyed disciple exclaimed. Everyone turned, and the sight before them left them stunned.