C242 I will Protect You!

Wu Xiting chuckled as he beckoned to Guan Xianyun of the Binders of Shadows.

He held a palm-sized copper mirror in his hand.

The mirror was simple and ancient, exuding a sense of age and history.

Its surface was dull, casting blurred reflections of the scenes before it.

Yet, when the small copper mirror was directed at Guan Xianyun, the seasoned expert who had been stuck at the peak of the Lunar Spirit for years, his figure abruptly froze in midair.

Wu Xiting's smile held a hint of mischief as he teased, "Brother Guan, what's the rush?"

Guan Xianyun had spell symbols affixed to his forehead, chest, and lower elixir field, which burst into flames. Dark red, golden yellow, and light purple flames erupted from his upper, middle, and lower elixir fields, respectively.

The remnant soul, vitality, and spiritual energy—the triad of a cultivator's powers—erupted violently.

Guan Xianyun's suspended figure awkwardly turned to face Wu Xiting, managing a strained smile through the flames and said in a gravelly voice, "A heavenly-grade artifact, the Primal Flame Mirror."

Wu Xiting's eyes lit up with recognition, and he nodded, replying, "Brother, your discernment is impressive. You've identified an artifact from my Mensend Hill. Indeed, the Primal Flame Mirror was bestowed upon me by the Lord of Mensend Hill when I fortuitously ascended to the Spirit Walk state."

"The Primal Flame Mirror is merely a first-level heavenly-grade artifact. I regret that I have not lived up to the Lord's generous gift by elevating its grade even by one level," he expressed with a tinge of remorse to Guan Xianyun.

In the Primal Flame Mirror, Guan Xianyun's vague image quietly emerged.

The instant his reflection appeared, the Lunar Spirit within his Mindscape sensed something amiss—as if it had been suddenly scorched by an intense sun.

Before he could grasp the situation, he realized that the spell symbols had been reduced to ashes.

At that moment, he found himself unable to break into the Shadowflame Blight Array, nor could he escape the confines of Gloomhollow.

Three extraordinary divine talismans, each worth a fortune, had been squandered inexplicably.

Their true value was unknown to all.

To acquire these three divine talismans, which were not of the Binders of Shadows, he had dedicated years to exploring the northern reaches of the Land of Quiescence. It was rumored that after many years of deciphering the tomb of a legendary spell caster, he seized the opportunity to steal the talismans with lightning speed.

Subsequently, he devoted considerable time to mastering the intricacies of the spell and embedding it into his lifeblood and soul mark, enabling him to wield the talismans at will.

As a result, his mastery in the Dao of Talismans soared, propelling him to the zenith of the late Lunar Spirit stage.

He was on the cusp of entering the Spirit Walk realm.

But now, with Wu Xiting unleashing the Primal Flame Mirror, the three divine talismans that could have been his escape from Gloomhollow were reduced to ashes.

"Ms. Mei! Ms. Mei, we have always stood by you!"

Following Wu Xiting's assault on Guan Xianyun, the other two members of the Thunder Temple and several cultivators from Aetherius seemed to have a mental breakdown, crying out in alarm.

It dawned on them that Wu Xiting of the Sunlit Order and Mei Qiurong of the Ebon Star were poised to unleash a bloodbath.

Mei Qiurong remained stoic, her gaze shifting from the two Thunder Temple elders to the others, maintaining her silence.

Wu Xiting let out a hearty laugh and declared, "Certain events within Gloomhollow must remain secret, so I must apologize."

With a flourish of his sleeve, the palm-sized Primal Flame Mirror ascended into the heavens, expanding like a colossal mirror suspended in the sky.

The valley's inhabitants looked up to see their reflections in the celestial mirror.

In a flash, the universe seemed to transform, the heavens and earth whirling in disarray!

When they came to their senses, many were terrified to discover that their three souls—of heaven, earth, and man—had separated from their corporeal forms and were now trapped within the Primal Flame Mirror above.

Within the mirror, a different realm unfolded.

The space was engulfed in intense flames, with volcanoes erupting all around and a fiery rain cascading from the heavens. Countless, nameless divine flames danced through the air, as if imbued with a life of their own.

Cultivators from the various nations of Aetherius were caught in the midst of the Primal Flame Mirror's wrath, their cries echoing throughout. Yet in Gloomhollow, only a few remained unaffected by its soul-swapping fury: Loong Tianxiao, Guan Xianyun, Chen Qingyan, and Yu Yuan.

Loong Tianxiao, with his human head atop a dragon's body, huddled in a corner. Shrouded in a radiant golden light, he desperately clung to some unknown Naga mystique to withstand the assault.

Guan Xianyun, employing the arcane arts of the Binders of Shadows, had a dark halo form behind his head. Within it, ghoul glyphs and spirits were extinguished with each pulse, shielding him from the soul-reversing power of the Primal Flame Mirror.

Chen Qingyan, clutching her Snakeskin Scabbard as if it were a protective amulet, seemed completely immune to the Mirror's pull.

As for Yu Yuan...

When the Primal Flame Mirror's extraordinary psionic power sought to reshape the world and reflect upon the three souls of heaven, earth, and man, Yu Yuan simply reestablished his connection with the enigmatic black characters at the bottom of the Soulforge Pool.

With the connection secure, his three souls remained firmly seated within his Mindscape, utterly immovable.

"Hmm, this young one is rather peculiar," Wu Xiting mused, controlling the Primal Flame Mirror with his spiritual energy. He stroked his chin where no beard grew, his curiosity piqued.

"My Maelstrom of Oblivion couldn't strip away his three souls; naturally, your Primal Flame Mirror stands no chance either," Mei Qiurong remarked.

Upon hearing this, Wu Xiting's surprise deepened.

"Mr. Wu, remember your promise to me!" Chen Qingyan called out.

Wu Xiting, who had been ready to increase the pressure on Yu Yuan, paused and slightly furrowed his brow. He nodded, conceding, "Very well, I'll have a word with the lad later."

With that, he redirected his full attention back to the Primal Flame Mirror. Inside, the manifested soul spirits, particularly the weakest among them, burst forth like brilliant fireworks, only to fizzle out into nothingness.

Yu Yuan, who had been standing silently by the entrance to the underground cavern, suddenly began to walk toward the emaciated girl pinned to the rock wall by a short spear. Each step he took was deliberate and heavy, yet his face remained eerily calm.

Mei Qiurong's brow furrowed slightly as she swiftly moved to occupy the spot Yu Yuan had just left. She cast a quick glance at him before lowering her gaze to the cave entrance.

Wu Xiting, in the midst of his deadly assault, spared a moment to observe Yu Yuan. When he saw Yu Yuan approaching the girl, he made no move to intervene, his lips curling into a mocking smile. The smile seemed to taunt: With your level of cultivation, what difference could you possibly make?

He knew all too well the devastating power of the short spear. Not even Yu Yuan of Asvetaesi, let alone Chen Qingyan of the Sword Sect, stood a chance of freeing the girl from her rocky prison.

Secure in this belief, Wu Xiting remained passive, his demeanor that of someone enjoying a private joke.

"The surface is yours to handle; I'm heading underground," Mei Qiurong declared, holding the Mark of the Celestials in one hand and the yellow gourd in the other. She then gracefully descended into the cave, vanishing in an instant.

The slaughter within the valley continued unabated.

Chen Qingyan inhaled deeply, her gaze complex as she watched Yu Yuan, her inner turmoil evident. Wu Xiting, a cultivator of the Spirit Walk realm armed with the Primal Flame Mirror and the short spear, along with Mei Qiurong, who had slipped in rank but still wielded the Mark of the Celestials, surely possessed some means to counter Ann Jieshan.

Both were esteemed members of the upper sects and her superiors, with realms far surpassing her own. Even if she were to openly defy them, her master's influence would ensure her survival. Yet, such a confrontation would likely leave Yu Yuan with no chance of mercy at their hands.

Ultimately, Chen Qingyan chose to remain still, her gaze fixed intently on Yu Yuan, eager to see what he would do next.

Can she be saved?

...

Pressed against the rock face, her once vibrant seven-colored bones lost their luster. Her arms hung limply, and the shattered carapace of her chest bore witness to her ordeal. She seemed to sense Yu Yuan's proximity.

Her shoulders quivered ever so slightly.

With great effort, she raised her drooping head.

Hiss!

Bursts of crimson fire, as if understanding her intent and seeking to discipline her, erupted from the short spear.

In a flash, her chest was drenched in blood, and fragments of her shattered shell scattered.

Each fragment, a precious solidification of her lifeblood and soul mark, was invaluable.

Though broken, there was a chance for them to be reforged.

But once shattered, they were irreparably destroyed, and she could only regrow them in the years to come, through much greater hardship.

Yet, despite the shell bursting and falling away, she did not waver. With excruciating pain, she desperately lifted her head.

As her chest carapace burst and fell away, she felt the loss of her vitality and spirit. Confusion and disappointment washed over her, but when Yu Yuan's silhouette filled her verdant eyes, a singular brilliance erupted within them.

That brilliance, like a divine spark in a dark room, instantly illuminated her dimming gaze.

And her heart as well.

Spellbound, she gazed at Yu Yuan, her eyes becoming an enigma, swirling with a myriad of complex emotions.

It was as if a thousand words were spoken through that gaze.

Joy, elation, and contentment completely overtook any feelings of bitterness, anger, and hurt.

In the end, her eyes conveyed a singular emotion.

Yu Yuan must live on.

—She was beyond concern.

Before the rock wall, Yu Yuan looked up at her, taking deep breaths.

"Mensend Hill, Wu Xiting."

Though silent, those six words screamed within Yu Yuan's heart.

He had never imagined that the contingency he had prepared for his rebirth would, after three hundred years of transformation, evolve into such an exalted intelligent being.

From the moment she emerged from the miasma and took the form of that diminutive girl with the blackened hand, a unique and unprecedented emotion began to take root in Yu Yuan's heart.

"I no longer need your protection. After being delayed for over three hundred years, it's my turn to guard you."

On the cliff face, among the many caves, only one was free of the deadly miasma.

From that very cave, a Nightstorm breeze had once emerged.

Suddenly, the Nightstorm that had been quelled when she was grievously wounded and pinned to the cliffside began to howl once more.

It did not head for Wu Xiting, nor did it seek out Mei Qiurong; instead, it surged towards Yu Yuan.

…