Chapter 30: Dream Echoes

In the dungeon, it was so quiet that only the sound of some liquid dripping onto the ground could be heard. Most of the long-burning candles in the outermost soul-guiding array had extinguished, and the remaining flicker barely illuminated Yun Heng’s figure.

The Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord, not yet fully dead, crawled out from the failed array. Seeing Yun Heng trembling slightly, he sneered inwardly.

She must have failed. Haha…

The Demon Lord only dared to say it in his heart. He had witnessed Yun Heng lose control before, and even if someone gave him a hundred times the courage, he wouldn’t dare provoke her now.

Having finally escaped, his top priority was to find a way to save himself.

The Demon Lord crawled outward bit by bit in the darkness. He knew the chances of escaping Ask God Sect alone were slim, so he needed someone to pick him up. Thus, he cautiously sent a strand of his demonic qi outside the dungeon. The process went surprisingly smoothly, but before he could gloat, a chilling sword intent sliced his soul body cleanly in half.

The Demon Lord’s shrill scream echoed through the dungeon. His soul was extremely weak now, and one strike from Yun Heng could scatter it entirely, but she deliberately held back, not letting him die so quickly.

When the Demon Lord saw the shoes appear in his vision, he forgot even the pain in his soul body and scrambled to dodge aside. But the Divine Sword, radiating cold intent, pierced through his upper soul segment and nailed it to the ground. This divine artifact inflicted severe damage on souls; the more he struggled, the faster his soul dissipated. Not wanting to be scattered, he could only obediently lie flat.

Suddenly, he felt a force tightening around his neck. The Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord was forced to lift his head and meet Yun Heng’s gaze.

Seeing her bloodshot eyes, the Demon Lord suddenly thought this Immortal Venerable might be more suited to rule the Demon Domain than he was.

“Why can’t I find her soul?” Yun Heng’s voice was soft, but clear in the quiet dungeon. The dim candlelight flickered, casting her pale face in a deathly pallor.

The Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord knew she was asking him, but he had never studied this Revival Secret Art. How would he know why it failed?

Yet he couldn’t say he didn’t know. He had no doubt that if he did, Yun Heng would send him straight to accompany her junior sister.

“If… if the ritual wasn’t flawed, then there are only two possibilities. Either the person isn’t dead, or there’s something wrong with her soul—like being affected by some evil technique, preventing the secret art from pulling it back from the past.” The first was certain; the second was just his speculation.

“Evil technique…”

Yun Heng murmured the words. Her junior sister hadn’t been hit by any evil technique, but she did suffer from Spirit Scattering Syndrome. Could it be because of that illness?

This was what she had feared most before. Her junior sister’s soul was fragile, like porcelain riddled with cracks that could shatter at the slightest touch. The Demon Domain’s secret arts carried an inherent yin-evil nature, and Yun Heng worried that even if she forcibly summoned A Que’s soul, her junior sister wouldn’t withstand the torment.

The Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord’s eyes darted, then he said, “I have considerable knowledge of souls. How about we make a deal?”

His title wasn’t for nothing; his soul research was built on the agony of countless departed spirits. No one in the Cangwang Realm could surpass him now.

Yun Heng looked at him, her icy killing intent making the Demon Lord shudder, as if she had seen through his scheme.

Is this woman mad or not? the Demon Lord wondered inwardly.

“You’re right.” Her voice carried a strangely gentle tone. The candle flames swayed and silently extinguished a few more, shadows creeping over the snow-pale Immortal Venerable.

She stepped forward. Alarms blared in the Demon Lord’s mind as she raised her hand, her divine soul power piercing his sea of consciousness.

His faces twisted in agony. She was performing the Soul Search Technique!

Soul searching had once been this Demon Lord’s specialty. Now the tables had turned, and it was his turn to taste it.

The Soul Search Technique demanded precision from the caster; a single mistake could collapse the target’s divine soul. The Demon Lord couldn’t hope Yun Heng would be careful. To prevent her power from destroying his sea of consciousness outright, he could only endure bitterly.

His memories were meticulously rifled through. Yun Heng imprinted the Demon Lord’s years of soul research onto herself. Even if she was mad, she wouldn’t entrust her junior sister’s matter to this scheming Demon Lord—she had to do it personally.

After his memories were copied, the Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord was locked back in his prison. Yun Heng pored over them day and night, repeatedly activating the Demon Domain’s secret arts. As the sacrificial fuel, the Demon Lord, amid successive failures, even wished for a quick death. The karma for his years of tormenting others had all come back to him.

But Yun Heng’s condition was no better. Her figure grew increasingly gaunt, her exhaustion and anxiety more evident. This secret art gradually stole the caster’s life force. The Demon Lord noticed her coughing blood more often, and her errors during rituals increased due to waning energy. In his rare moments of lucidity, he viciously cursed her to die before him, so once he recovered, he could slaughter all of Ask God Sect!

Clinging to such malice, he endured. One day, two days, three… Time passed, and he was nearly tormented to dissipation. Yet Yun Heng unyieldingly repeated the ritual daily, as if her frailty was an illusion.

…

This was the ninth day of her failures.

Facing the rift that had closed once more, Yun Heng stood, her vision blurring as she nearly collapsed.

She steadied herself for a long while before colors returned to her sight.

Yun Heng couldn’t pinpoint the problem. She had mastered the Demon Lord’s soul arts and even ventured into the rift herself to search for A Que’s past soul, but found nothing.

Were the Demon Domain’s secret arts unworkable? If so, only one final method remained.

But that method… she had even less confidence in it.

She decided to try the Demon Domain approach once more.

Exhaustion weighed on her to the limit, bloodstains untouched on her clothes. Yun Heng had endured this far purely through her deep obsession. Staggering back to her room to refine the Demon Lord’s soul arts further, a tearing pain exploded in her mind the moment she tried to channel power.

The next instant, she plunged into darkness. In the pitch-black nightmare, she heard her junior sister’s call—but this time, it wasn’t the gentle voice of old. Her junior sister’s bloodcurdling accusations sliced like knives into her heart.

[Senior Sister, how much longer must I wait?]

[Didn’t you promise to protect me? Why didn’t you come? Where were you when I needed you most?]

I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s my fault.

[Senior Sister, it hurts so much, and it’s so dark around here. Can you come keep me company?]

Her blood-soaked junior sister stood in the nightmare, reaching out with scarred hands.

Tears slid from the unconscious Yun Heng’s eyes. In the nightmare, she cradled her junior sister’s hand, trying every method to heal the wounds. But the scars not only refused to heal—they grew more hideous and terrifying.

[Senior Sister, I know you did your best.]

“Wen Qiwu’s” voice suddenly softened. She gently wiped away Yun Heng’s tears. [I don’t blame you.]

Yun Heng’s voice choked with sobs.

A Que, do you really forgive me?

[Of course. Look, I’ve even come to take you with me.] “Wen Qiwu” gripped Yun Heng’s hand tighter, pulling her toward deeper darkness.

Yun Heng paused at the sight of her “junior sister’s” mangled hand but ultimately couldn’t let go.

They were slowly swallowed by the darkness. Deep down, Yun Heng knew what lay ahead in that abyss, but reality offered only exhaustion and despair, so she clung to Wen Qiwu’s hand.

Nine straight days of failure had nearly extinguished her hope. Without reviving A Que, she couldn’t go on. If she could depart with her junior sister, she would welcome it.

“Cheep cheep!”

Just before the darkness consumed her consciousness entirely, Yun Heng faintly heard a bird’s cry.

“Wen Qiwu’s” expression twisted for an instant, then she quickened her pace, dragging Yun Heng away.

“Senior Sister!”

Vaguely, Yun Heng heard a muffled call.

A Que?

She halted, confusion on her face.

Was that A Que’s voice?

“Wen Qiwu’s” face darkened further. She urged Yun Heng to hurry with her, but perhaps some special intuition stirred—Yun Heng released “Wen Qiwu’s” hand and turned toward the sound.

[Senior Sister, don’t waste time. If you don’t come now, I won’t wait.] “Wen Qiwu’s” voice sounded angry.

Yun Heng feared most that Wen Qiwu would be mad and ignore her. As she hurried to apologize, the faint voice sharpened slightly.

“Senior Sister…” Wen Qiwu’s voice carried a sob. “Wake up quick—the demon cultivators are here!”

How similar it all was…

Yun Heng’s hands trembled faintly. Images from a century ago flooded back: the sect stained in blood. These years, her nightmares always featured her junior sister’s cries—saying demon cultivators were coming, saying…

“Senior Sister, save me.”

A sword intent that seemed to cleave the heavens tore through Cloud Mist Mountain’s skies. The rats lured by the Ten Thousand Souls Demon Lord died without even a wail.

Yun Heng’s bloodshot eyes snapped open, her killing intent locking onto all enemies. She swung her sword intent, then instinctively turned to her side. “A Que, don’t be scared. Senior Sister will prot—”

But her side was empty. Nothing was there.

Right—her junior sister was gone.

Tears streamed down Yun Heng’s face. The unspoken words dissolved into a choked sob.