Chapter 71: Demonic Enchantment, Soul Captivation

Everything happened so suddenly that both Qin Tian and I stood there, mouths agape in shock. The burly man’s single palm strike had actually injured a lower-ranked Celestial God. At this moment, blood trickled from the corner of Murong Xue’s lips as she stared at the burly man in utter disbelief—she, too, could not comprehend what had just occurred.

It was hardly surprising. Murong Xue had dominated the mortal realm for a millennium, relying on her divine powers; even the most formidable supreme cultivators and martial artists of the Way could not last three rounds against her. Now, to be wounded by a mere mortal—how could she not be astonished? Clearly, Murong Xue had yet to recover from her shock. Clutching her three-foot length of white silk tightly, she glared at the burly man, her eyes burning with a fury I had never seen in all the time I’d known her.

Murong Xue was enraged. With a speed that defied the eye, her white silk lashed toward the burly man, but he caught the thunderous blow. One end of the silk remained in Murong Xue’s grip, the other was seized in the burly man’s palm. With a casual flick, he sent the silk undulating like waves upon the sea, whipping it back at her. Sensing danger, Murong Xue released her hold, but it was a beat too late. The white silk lashed out with a gust of force; she raised her arms to shield herself, but in the next instant, I saw her hurled through the air, blood spilling from her lips in a crimson arc—a strange, beautiful scene against the autumn sky.

The Nine-tailed Fox caught her gently. I had already started to move when Murong Xue launched her attack, but everything happened in a heartbeat—I was too late to help. Seeing her injured, I clung tightly to the burly man’s body.

“Ling’er, get them out of here!” I shouted, summoning every last ounce of strength in my lungs. The Nine-tailed Fox seemed about to protest, but swallowed her words, pushing Murong Xue into Xiao Xiang Ke’er’s arms before charging toward me. She swiped at the burly man’s face, aiming for his eyes. He struggled with all his might; my strength failed me, and I could only watch helplessly as the Nine-tailed Fox was sent flying by his fist. Qin Tian was still desperately fending off the soldiers pressing in. My body felt weak, and I collapsed to the ground.

After breaking free of my grip, the burly man struck the Nine-tailed Fox and then, to my surprise, rushed straight for Xu Qinghuan, snatching her up and retreating to the side of the female general.

“General Wushuang, why not present this woman to the High Priest and let the others go?” he said respectfully, glancing at the assembled crowd. For an instant, I saw a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. The female general shot him a frosty look, and he immediately bowed his head.

“You remember I am your general, yet you hesitate? Bring back those three women as well,” she commanded coldly.

“But General, the High Priest—” The burly man hesitated. The general crossed her arms, propped her chin in one hand, and seemed to ponder. “Very well, withdraw the troops,” she finally said with a wave. The soldiers turned in unison, following her as she departed in grand procession.

“Qinghuan…” I called weakly, raising my hand. The group was already far off. I tried to get up, but a numbness swept over my shoulder—my left side was paralyzed, immobile. Strange. What was happening? I struggled, unwilling to give in, but in the end, could only lie there. Qin Tian, battered and limping but able to walk, hobbled over to help me up. The others, seeing the danger had passed, gathered around.

“How are you feeling?” Qin Tian asked, panting.

“I’m fine, just numb… They took Qinghuan. I have to save her. Miss Murong, please, check what’s wrong with me,” I pleaded anxiously. Why had they chosen Xu Qinghuan of all people? If I could, I would wish harm on none among us. It was my own uselessness—too weak to protect anyone, not even myself. I pounded the ground in frustration.

“Strange, his mind doesn’t seem entirely lucid,” Murong Xue said, placing her jade-like hand on my forehead.

“What? Don’t scare me, goddess,” Qin Tian said, staring at her.

Mind unclear? What a joke! I was perfectly conscious—just numb, that was all!

“Everyone, step back a bit,” Murong Xue instructed. The group retreated, giving her space. No one knew what trick she might try next; the woman was always full of surprises, though this time she’d been bested by a mortal. But it was no fault of hers—the burly man’s strength was on an entirely different level. What puzzled me most was how a mere mortal could injure a Celestial God.

Murong Xue crossed her arms over her chest, lifted her chin, and closed her eyes, murmuring strange incantations. A vortex of white air began to swirl around her, forming a circle with her at its center. The current spun faster and faster, then, after the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, faded away. Murong Xue nearly collapsed, but Xiao Xiang Ke’er caught her. She raised a hand, signaling she was all right.

“He’s been struck by a soul-capturing spell. One of his three souls is missing. If we don’t recover it within three days, he may become feebleminded for life,” Murong Xue said gravely.

“What?” the others cried in unison, their shock plain on their faces.

“Soul-capturing spell… become feebleminded.” I repeated Murong Xue’s words over and over. I didn’t want to become an idiot—no, anything but that!

“Miss Murong, Old Li’s starting to lose it. Everyone, stay back! Yu, find a rope, tie him up!” Qin Tian shouted in a panic.

“Go tie up your own grandfather! Who says I’m losing it? If I really lost it, I’d throttle you first!” I retorted.

Qin Tian chuckled awkwardly. “Just joking, Old Li. Don’t get mad. Don’t worry, your problem is our problem. We’ll get your soul back, I promise,” he said, pounding his chest.

“And me as well!”

“We’re all in this together,” the others chimed in. I was truly moved. Qin Tian might act careless most of the time, but when it mattered, he never failed to step up. Yu Jing, too—apart from Qin Tian, he was the only brother who’d stood beside me through thick and thin. Their words filled me with gratitude. Even if I really did end up an idiot, I’d have no regrets—with such friends and brothers in this life, what more could I ask?