Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Extraction of Soul and Spirit (Part One)

Ji Shengrui was startled, forcing Bai Ze back with a palm strike and immediately retreating dozens of yards away. Bai Ze, too, was taken aback by the sudden voice. Both he and Ji Shengrui stopped attacking at almost the same moment, their gazes turning in unison toward the unfamiliar source of the sound.

Before their eyes stood a middle-aged man in plain blue robes, with unremarkable features. No one knew when he had entered the Maze of Mist—neither Bai Ze nor Geng Xiao had sensed a thing, and even Ji Shengrui, the master of the array, had not noticed his arrival. In his arms, he carried a person—Ji Mo.

“Who are you? How did you get into the Maze of Mist?” Ji Shengrui stared at the man, both alarmed and suspicious. He could not discern the man’s cultivation at all, which meant it far surpassed his own. Most terrifying was that the stranger had entered the array so silently; clearly, he was also a master of formations. Who was this man? Could he be from the girl’s sect?

Ji Shengrui’s suspicions were not unfounded. Ji Mo, barely at the Qi Refining stage, had shown astonishing combat power; surely a formidable sect stood behind her. This was a question not only Ji Shengrui pondered—everyone present today who had witnessed Ji Mo’s battle would have the same suspicion.

If this person truly was a senior from the girl’s sect, Ji Shengrui knew he was in serious trouble. His thoughts raced—not about how to take Ji Mo away, but how to escape himself.

“Who I am is none of your concern. She is my target, and I will be taking her. I trust you have no objections?” The middle-aged man swept Ji Shengrui a cool glance as he spoke.

Ji Shengrui and Bai Ze both froze. Neither dared to speak. They wanted to object, but their strength was no match for this man’s. If he wished to take Ji Mo, they could not stop him. To protest now would be laughable.

“Since you have no objections, I’ll be leaving. You two may continue your fight.” With a final indifferent glance at Ji Shengrui and Bai Ze, the man’s figure vanished into thin air.

The sudden appearance and disappearance of this mysterious figure left Ji Shengrui bewildered. Judging by his manner, he didn’t seem to be from Ji Mo’s sect. But if he wasn’t, then who was he, and why had he come to seize Ji Mo? Could it be that the girl harbored some great secret?

But all speculation was useless now—their target had been stolen away. Meanwhile, Geng Xiao, who had been entangled with the golden seal, finally managed to knock it aside and rushed over. But he arrived only in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of a blue robe vanishing. Ji Mo’s presence was already gone.

“Who was that just now?” Geng Xiao asked.

“I don’t know. His cultivation was far above ours, and from the way he spoke, he didn’t sound like someone from Ji Mo’s sect. Whether her being taken by him is good or ill, I cannot say,” Bai Ze replied, frowning.

“It’s all your fault, Ji Shengrui!” Geng Xiao turned a cold gaze upon Ji Shengrui.

“I have no time to argue with you. Consider yourselves lucky this time!” Ji Shengrui withdrew his gaze, shot Geng Xiao a look, then waved his hands. The Maze of Mist dissolved, and the three of them found themselves once more on the streets of Chifeng City.

“You—!” Bai Ze, furious, was about to charge at him, only to be held back by Geng Xiao. Ji Shengrui cast them a cold glance before turning and striding away.

“Why are you stopping me? That bastard Ji is utterly intolerable!” Bai Ze raged.

“And what would you do? Can you beat him?” Geng Xiao replied, his face cold. Bai Ze fell silent.

Leaving their dispute aside, the blue-robed middle-aged man, carrying Ji Mo, gave a slight shudder after exiting the Maze of Mist and vanished from the spot. When he next appeared, he stood before the grand and ancient gates of a temple. Standing respectfully at the entrance, he announced, “Teacher, I have brought the child.”

“Come in,” came an aged voice from within after the time it takes to brew a cup of tea.

At the summons, the blue-robed man stepped inside. Within the temple’s main hall stood a row of black statues; among them, one statue, nine feet tall and strikingly handsome, had empty eye sockets—whether the sculptor had left them unfinished or the deity himself had none was unclear. Whatever the reason, the statue induced an inexplicable sense of dread in all who saw it.

The blue-robed man entered, set Ji Mo down beside the eyeless idol, and bowed deeply before it. Only then did he pick Ji Mo up again, carry her through the solemn hall, and enter a small courtyard at the rear.

Beneath a parasol tree in the courtyard sat an elderly man in grey robes. He was incredibly old, resembling an ancient pine that had weathered countless years. His face was etched with deep wrinkles, his eyebrows half grey, half white, trailing down to his chest like his beard.

Before him stood a tea table set with a tea set. The water in the teapot was already boiling, sending up jets of steam. The old man lifted the lid, pinched a bit of tea from a small box, dropped it into the pot, and replaced the lid. Instantly, a rich, lingering fragrance filled the courtyard.

The middle-aged man approached and stood respectfully behind him, watching silently as the old man prepared the tea. When the brewing was done and the lid replaced, the old man finally looked up and gestured to a chair opposite him. “Mo Yong, you are now the head of the Mo clan. There’s no need for such formality before me. Sit.”

“Thank you, Teacher.” The blue-robed man set Ji Mo down beside the table and took his seat across from the elder.

“Well? Have you determined what cultivation method this child is practicing?” the old man asked while arranging the tea set. Mo Yong quickly rose, poured a cup for the old man, then one for himself. The old man took a sip and let his gaze settle on Ji Mo.

“Teacher, I have examined her body and bones, and even took a few drops of her blood. I can confirm that she is practicing the Heavenly Demon Body-Tempering Art,” Mo Yong replied.

“Heh, it seems even the heavens do not wish to see our Yan-descended tribe fade into obscurity. Since it’s certain she cultivates the Heavenly Demon Body-Tempering Art, extract her soul’s consciousness and strip away the memory of that technique. Once it’s done, compile it into a book for the prodigies of the Yan lineage to study,” the elder chuckled, trembling slightly as he sipped his tea.

“I…” Mo Yong hesitated.

“Mo Yong, do you know why I entrusted this task to you in particular?” the old man asked mildly, seeing his hesitation.

“Teacher, I know it is your way of looking after me. Over the years, my Mo clan has declined due to internal strife. Once first among the ten great surnames, we are now at the very bottom. If I manage this task well, I will become a great benefactor to the Yan lineage. Then, the Mo clan may yet return to the top,” Mo Yong replied after a pause.

(To be continued…)