Elder Lin Zhi-Hui's face was pale, drained of all color, even his lips bloodless and dry.
Beside him, a stunning woman stood in quiet concentration, guiding a luminous spirit—her medicine spirit—through his spiritual meridians.
After about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, she slowly withdrew the spirit back into her body.
This was a specialized diagnostic method used only by alchemists of the sixth rank and above, a technique that required the manifestation of a medicine spirit. With such a spirit at her command, both diagnosis and pill refinement became far more efficient and accurate.
"Sister Wenjun, how is Elder Lin doing?" asked Wei Chuyang, Sect Master of the Tianyi Sect, his brows knitted with concern.
Lin Zhi-Hui also raised his eyes to look at Wenjun, awaiting her verdict.
But her expression was grave.
The destruction of a soul shadow—unless it was intentionally retracted and refined—would invariably inflict a backlash on the main body. The higher one's cultivation, the lesser the impact. Lin Zhi-Hui was no ordinary cultivator—he stood at the eighth level of the Saint Immortal Realm. Losing a soul shadow shouldn't have shaken his foundation.
Yet, what Wenjun had seen inside his body left her unsettled.
His internal meridians were a wreck—shattered and laced with chaotic spiritual energy. Most disturbing of all, traces of lightning tribulation remained within him.
But how could that be?
He had ascended to the Saint Immortal Realm thousands of years ago. And after such breakthroughs, Heaven itself offered restoration to the body as a reward for success. There should be no remnants of tribulation left after so many years.
Where then, had this power come from?
If they couldn't eliminate it completely, it would continue to erode his spiritual meridians. Not only would his cultivation stagnate, but over time, he could even regress.
"Miss Wenjun," Lin Zhi-Hui's voice was calm, but his clenched fists betrayed his anxiety. "Please, speak freely. I can take it."
Cultivating for millennia was meant to transcend, not to become crippled. Though not an alchemist himself, Lin could feel that something was deeply wrong. Ever since his soul shadow was destroyed, the spiritual energy in his body had begun to disperse, held in place only by his sheer will. But the seal was weakening.
And Wenjun's hesitation was like a cold hand gripping his heart.
"Sister Wenjun," Wei Chuyang said, his tone more insistent now. "Please."
"There is residual lightning tribulation within the Grand Elder's body," Wenjun finally said, her voice heavy. "This power is constantly damaging his spiritual meridians."
A silence fell.
"If we cannot purge it in time, I fear his body will eventually—" she paused, but the implication was clear.
Lin Zhi-Hui's heart sank. A chill ran through his limbs.
"Lightning tribulation?" Wei Chuyang gasped. "Are you certain?"
Wenjun nodded. "Elder Lin, where have you been recently? How did you come into contact with such a force? If we can identify the origin, we may still have a chance."
"It was... it must have been the one who destroyed my soul shadow," Lin Zhi-Hui replied, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
"You mean," Wei Chuyang leaned forward in disbelief, "the one who shattered your soul shadow in Heng City... also planted tribulation lightning in your body?"
"Yes. It was her. It must be her," Lin said, his tone rising with emotion. "She didn't show her face, but she dispelled the tribulation with a single command. She can surely embed it into others as well."
"That's absurd!" Wei Chuyang scowled. "Lightning tribulations are decreed by the heavens. No one can command them."
"My soul shadow is gone. I can't even forge a new soul scroll. But Jue'er is on his way back," Lin said, his breath weakening. "He said he's bringing back Yue Ran. We can use a soul-searching technique to verify everything."
"I swear, I am not speaking nonsense."
Even as he spoke, a voice came from outside.
"Master, this disciple—Song Jue—requests an audience."
"Come in," Lin Zhi-Hui responded wearily.
Song Jue stepped into the hall, half-dragging Yue Ran behind him. His heart ached to see his master in such a frail state.
Yue Ran, however, was almost giddy.
This was her first time entering the Sword Pavilion. Could it be that Song Jue intended to formalize their relationship in front of his master?
Her cheeks flushed at the thought.
When Song Jue had been injured in front of the Yue household gates, she had feared he would hold a grudge. But despite his anger, he hadn't forgotten to take her with him.
Clearly, she had a place in his heart.
As she followed Song Jue inside, her joy grew tenfold upon seeing the Sect Master himself present. She thought perhaps this was her moment.
She had no idea the storm she had walked into.
"Master, are you alright?" Song Jue dropped to his knees beside Lin Zhi-Hui, his voice cracking.
Their bond was closer than that of father and son. And Song Jue blamed himself—none of this would have happened if he hadn't gone to the Yue family in Heng City.
"I'm fine... for now," Lin Zhi-Hui said, helping him up.
Behind them, Yue Ran also knelt, her face sweet and bashful. "Greetings, Sect Master. Grand Elder. Miss Wenjun."
"Sect Master," Lin said, his voice faint. "I'll need your help."
"Of course." Wei Chuyang nodded, lifting a hand.
A thread of spiritual power shot from his fingertip into Yue Ran's forehead.
She cried out in pain, fear flashing in her eyes—then nothing. Her gaze turned vacant, blank.
With a series of intricate hand seals, Wei Chuyang conjured a transparent scroll into the air—a soul-searching projection.
Because Yue Ran's cultivation was so low, the resulting image was faint and distorted. But what they saw was enough to send chills down their spines.
A figure at the Immortal Sovereign level had come to the Yue family, accompanied by a group of other Immortal-level cultivators. Song Jue had summoned the Grand Elder's soul shadow in response.
But then, during the confrontation, one of the intruders began ascending.
The scene that followed defied all reason.
A cold, clear woman's voice rang out—and the lightning tribulation that had just descended was banished.
In one breath, the very will of Heaven had been turned away.
Then, with a soft snort, the same voice obliterated the Grand Elder's soul shadow.
Even through the soul scroll, that snort shook the audience in the hall. Wei Chuyang and Wenjun both coughed blood. Lin Zhi-Hui doubled over, vomiting fresh blood.
Wenjun rushed forward, stuffing a pill into his mouth. Only then did his condition stabilize slightly.
"She... she really did disperse the tribulation with a word," Wenjun murmured, lips trembling.
"Who... who are these people?" Wei Chuyang muttered. "They don't look like anyone from Central Continent."
"The children with them show signs of having altered their appearances," Wenjun noted. "That technique is rare but not unknown."
"What about that talisman they used?" Wei Chuyang pointed to the final scene, where the group vanished into a spatial rift. "It tore space open like it was nothing."
"I don't know," Wenjun admitted, shaking her head. Then she leaned closer to the scroll, eyes narrowing. "Wait—there's a symbol on that medallion. Zoom in. I think it has writing on it."