“Allow me to venture a guess. The God-Monarch of the Hengye clan suffered a calamity and cannot pass down the Record of the Eternal Night. The clan must either come up with a way to save him or get the record from another source. Unfortunately, you happen to be one of those dispatched to solve this problem—which puts your life at heavy risk.”
Tusha wasn’t incorrect. The reasons somewhat differed from her guess but—regardless of the cost—Xinzi had to seize the Record of the Eternal Night. His life depended on it, and in the worst-case scenario, that quest justified keeping Tusha by his side—if only till she served her purpose. However, in her bid for survival, the nun failed to consider the complexities of a theocratic empire such as the Eternal Night dynasty.
Night Spirits were born sentient and nurtured during their mothers’ pregnancies by the clan elders. The time and resources invested depended on the fetal spirit’s potential, but rarely exceeded 12 years. Xinzi’s fetal nurturing took 60 years, years during which the clan leader personally fed his fetal spirit with treasures, knowledge, goals and aspirations. One can therefore imagine the importance the leader put on him. And yet, too good was as bad as not enough.
Tusha had too much to offer. The leader of the Hengye clan would never tolerate Xinzi if his growth exceeded their expectations or control. More importantly, Xinzi already had a clear path towards the Record of the Eternal Night. He just refused to use it.
Letting go of the codex, Xinzi closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and joined his hands in a prayer sign. ‘I am being naïve. Bringing the record back to the divine palace will change nothing. No, things will only get worse. To transcend my fate and achieve true freedom, I have to break these chains.’
The last embers of hesitation flew out of Xinzi’s mind. His soul returned to his mutated body, and his eyes opened wide. It had been 12 years already since the leader sent him to Dongli. Twelve years might mean nothing to Night Spirits, but how long until the leader’s patience grew thin? Twenty? Thirty? Sooner than later, the leader would come asking for progress. Xinzi refused to be that person’s tool for a lifetime.
“Discarding aids that have outlived their usefulness is a common matter. My life is in your hands. If one day you believe that I am worth more dead than alive, you can kill me with a thought. Until then, why not let me assist you?
What is a formation master’s most reliable foundation? Elite troops. With elite troops as catalysts, even low-level formations can exert formidable power. After completing my reincarnation, I spent the last 5,000 years cultivating an army for my master’s sake. Mysterious Beasts and Blood Spirits in the thousands. Blood fruits, stones, treasures and wealth acquired from deceased cultivators. From resources to knowledge, there is nothing I cannot provide.” Tusha pleaded her case.
“Nothing you can’t provide? Now that’s a bold statement. Be careful of using those words with me. I might just make an unreasonable request,” Xinzi said. A pause followed, but once Tusha’s brain made sense of the words, the nun recoiled—panicking at their implications.
“You…are that kind of monk?” Still on the ground, Tusha covered her chest which, underneath her oversized saffron robe, failed to stick out.
“For sure.” Xinzi’s shoulders rose in a helpless shrug, and with a nonchalant spin, the monk dropped on Tusha’s stone steat.
“But I am not that kind of nun!”
“We can work on that. Isn’t your original form an Asura? Three heads and six arms, three tongues and thirty fingers…all the things we could accomplish with that. I shudder at the thought.”
“Shameless!”
“By joining my team, you sign up for the jokes. It’s part of the contract, but you can still back off if you want to.”
“Why would I want to b…oh.” At last, Tusha realized that Xinzi accepted her allegiance and, as her words trailed off, the nun rose to her knees—bowing in a show of submission. “Thank you, Abbot, for sparing me! Your servant pledges to not make you regret it,” Tusha said, thereby merging her Blood Spirit Valley with Xinzi’s Liberation Temple.
“Fret not, I will make sure you won’t make me regret it.” The monk’s lips curled into a smile. In that instant, both knew where they stood. Tusha despaired for a chance to survive, but while her body and soul belonged to Xinzi, her heart served Qiu Meng alone. Not one to leave unnecessary concerns in his servants’ minds, the monk aimed to remedy that, but knew that in the business of corrupting souls, planning, opportunity and patience took precedence.
“Why didn’t you give the four tomes to Qiu Meng, and where are your sisters?” Xinzi asked. Qiu Meng never took ownership of the Codex of Heaven’s Will. If he did and still lost, the tomes would be hanging on the August Divinity’s bookshelf—with the God-Monarch’s head to accompany them.
“Back then, we four sisters scoured the Three Paradises and snatched the tomes for master—no, His Excellency’s sake. By the time we returned, the August Divinity’s solar flames were burning His Excellency to ashes—of course we couldn’t give it to him. Upon losing the war, we suffered grievous injuries and agreed to hide the tomes while seeking ways to heal. I had no choice but to become a Blood Spirit, and believe that my sisters endured similar fates.” Here Tusha paused and, fearing that her words disappointed Xinzi, checked his expression. The monk remained stoic.
“Nevertheless, Miejue was the most attached to the Mourning Shadow hall, so she likely hid in the Western Continent to watch over it…right under the nose of the Eternal Night dynasty. As for Haoyou and Nieyuan, I must investigate, but as long as we stand within 600 square kilometers of them, I can sense their presence.” Tusha couldn’t understand why Xinzi didn’t outright rewire her personality or at least remove her ability to lie. But aware that the tiniest mistake would thrust her into final death, she didn’t dare to deceive him.
Satisfied, the monk shook his head. “Let’s set the Miejue hunt aside for now. As a demon born and bred in the Infernal Paradise, your understanding of Divine Sparks should exceed mine. How can I destroy the chains?” Xinzi asked, making Tusha’s eyes shrink in confusion.
“Chained Divine Sparks exist because your Divine Ancestor, the Thousand-Faced God, only wants one heir to your branch of the Hengye clan per generation. One God-Monarch and one God-Child. The easiest way to remove them is to become the God-Child. Why don’t you consider it?” Tusha asked. Divine Spark owners had the potential to become gods of the Celestial Paradise. The chains didn’t restrict the Divine Spirit’s potential, but rather ensured that the clan leader could control them as they pleased.
In the eyes of divines such as the Night and Sun Spirits, Xinzi’s attempt to destroy the chains blasphemed his Divine Ancestor—an unforgivable sin. Unless the monk didn’t believe in his chances to become the next God-Monarch, his actions made no sense—Xinzi’s next words cleared all doubts.
“God-Child or God-Monarch, it doesn’t matter. Unless I ascend to the Celestial Paradise and ask the Thousand-Faced God for help, my chains will not break,” Xinzi said in a casual and straightforward tone that only heightened the weight of his words.
“Impossible!” The chains carried laws inscribed by the Thousand-Faced God himself. Throughout the Mortal Realm, no one could mess with them…unless. Tusha’s eyes widened in enlightenment. ‘No wonder, no wonder. It all makes sense now. If this info reaches the Central Domain, this world will go up in flames.’
Snapping out of her thoughts, Tusha pointed at Xinzi’s chest. “Depending on how far you are willing to go, this can be a simple or hopeless problem.” As she spoke, Tusha studied Xinzi’s face—eager to confirm her guess. A disarming smile and piercing gaze neutered her probe.
“Change your divineline or destroy your soul. These are the only paths available to you.”
“You are not funny.” Divines such as the Night and Sun Spirits didn’t have bloodlines in the proper sense and referred to their lineage as divinelines. If anyone could choose what lineage they belonged to, wouldn’t the world be a fairyland? As for destroying his soul, Xinzi only had one thing to say: “Ha!”
Aware of the skepticism, Tusha pressed on. “Humor was never my forte. The gu-worm I infected you with didn’t just pervert your body. Not only does it inflate your Blood Energy and improve your constitution, but it also unlocks the Swallowing Skill.”
“The Swallowing Skill?”
“With a demon body, of course you can swallow. Abuse the Swallowing Skill, cultivate Evil Qi, corrupt your Divine Spark, and your Divine Soul will break down—enabling you to abandon your divineline to become a supreme demon!
Your actions will determine what you become, but so long as we ensure that no one can tell the changes until you complete the transformation, the chains will shatter. However, the infernal and divine can not coexist. If you choose this road, you will never become a god. Are you willing to give that up?” Tusha asked. The scene somewhat reminded her of the time when she attempted to lure Qiu Meng into demonism. The Celestial Grandmaster never allowed himself to betray righteousness and desecrate his Ancient Spirit lineage. But Qiu Meng, Xinzi was not.
Like a caged fugitive seeing the end of a long tunnel, Xinzi’s eyes brightened, and he stood up. “Give me a throne in Hell, and I can still pull down the Heavens. So why…would I not be willing?”