The early autumn moon was as cold as water. Within the dense bamboo forest, the wind whispered like sighs of ancient souls.
Lăng Tiêu moved quietly, holding An in his arms. Each step pressed upon fallen leaves without a sound. In the distance behind them, a flash of swordlight fell like a shooting star, followed by a sharp, cold voice:
"Lăng Tiêu! Do you still intend to shield a child tainted with residual soul?"
The voice cut through the night like frost. It belonged to Chu Huyền Y, law enforcer of the Celestial Heart Pavilion—one of the three major righteous sects of the Immortal Realm. Draped in white robes, she appeared like a snow spirit amid the woods, yet her eyes gleamed with killing intent.
Lăng Tiêu did not turn back. His voice was hoarse but calm:
"An is just a child. The remnant soul within him wasn't of his choosing. You invoke the name of righteousness, yet you pursue and slay a child?"
Chu Huyền Y responded coldly:
"Those who carry ancient soul remnants are calamities in human form. History has proven this time and again. If you still consider yourself a disciple of the Pavilion, you should understand this truth."
Lăng Tiêu slowly turned around, his eyes bright with cold clarity.
"I was a disciple of the Pavilion. Which is precisely why I understand what true 'righteousness' is... and what it means to hide behind that word to justify cruelty."
From the dark woods, a black-robed figure emerged. He was tall and gaunt, his aura colder than frost. This was Bạch Lưu, an internal enforcer famed for his secret technique Phantom Tracer.
"Executor Chu," Bạch Lưu bowed slightly. "Residual soul traces have appeared in this forest over the past three days. It's likely Lăng Tiêu is not acting alone. He may be hiding the successor of the ancient bloodline."
Chu Huyền Y furrowed her brow. Once, Lăng Tiêu had been a brilliant inner disciple of the Pavilion—someone she had... once seen as a kindred soul. Now, he stood on the other side.
Elsewhere, at the edge of a cliff, Lăng Tiêu hid within a wind-sealing formation he had long prepared. An rested in his arms, his breath steady but pale.
"Master..." the boy murmured, "If I really am a calamity… will you abandon me?"
Lăng Tiêu paused. The wind whistled between the rocks, as though the heavens themselves were questioning him.
"You are my disciple," he said softly, brushing back An's hair. "Even if the whole world calls you a disaster… I will protect you. If the Dao forbids me from keeping my word—then I will abandon the Dao, not you."
From afar, a voice deep and resonant as a bell echoed:
"Big words, Lăng Tiêu. But cultivators must not act on emotion and disrupt the order of the world."
An elder appeared atop a rock—white-haired, ancient eyes gleaming with wisdom. He was Elder Tịch Mộ, senior monitor of the Celestial Heart Pavilion.
"The boy cannot be allowed to live. If you surrender him now, the Pavilion will spare your life—only your memories will be sealed."
Lăng Tiêu let out a soft laugh, filled with quiet sorrow:
"You said the same thing to me once. Seal the memories, erase the soul, eliminate the threat... But what you destroy is humanity itself."
"If following the Dao means becoming heartless, soulless... how is that any different from the demonic path?"
The air grew tense. Swordlight shimmered in the distance.
Chu Huyền Y raised her hand:
"Kill the child, take Lăng Tiêu alive!"
But in that instant—the wind-sealing formation shattered. A beam of silver-gray light surged into the sky.
An opened his eyes—his pupils now silvery white. The residual soul slumbering in his blood awakened instinctively.
A roar tore through the heavens—an ancient beast's soul took form behind him.