Although his curiosity about the Spirit Ascension Ceremony lingered, Lin Xiao did not rush to track down Saint Servant Number Six. Only when the Sun and Moon Royal Academy announced a rest day did his figure finally appear outside Radiant City.
Behind him, a pair of mechanical wings unfolded. Twin streams of white light burst from the flight soul tool, propelling him swiftly into the sky.
Aside from practice sessions at the academy, this was his first true flight.
Radiant City shrank beneath him as the landscape spread out in all directions. The wind roared past his ears, and the scenery below blurred into motion. Within moments, the people entering and leaving the city were reduced to mere black specks.
As he savored the exhilaration of soaring through the air, he did not forget his purpose. Raising his right hand, he unfurled the Other Shore Flower, and at the same time, a faint translucent image appeared above his palm.
It was a face he recognized—the very same Saint Servant Number Six he had once glimpsed within the Holy Spirit Church.
Yet the soul fragment he had drawn from the Holy Banner was incomplete. The faint, ghostly visage bore almost no expression, occasionally twitching or struggling as though by reflex.
What exactly is a soul?
Even with a martial spirit like the Other Shore Flower, Lin Xiao could not easily answer that question.
In this world, souls were visible, tangible, and powerful—able to be harnessed, manipulated, or even devoured.
And yet, even among the Holy Spirit Church, whose entire existence revolved around research into souls, none could truly explain where the soul came from.
"Ugh—ah…"
The fragment moaned, its faintly human features twisting in pain.
Lin Xiao lifted his gaze toward the distant horizon. Though he could not define what a soul truly was, he could feel something—a subtle force from that direction, calling to the fragment he held in his hand.
"Mother, what are you looking at?"
In a small courtyard surrounded by modest homes, a young woman sat at the gate, her eyes distant as though lost in thought. Flowers and herbs lined the yard in gentle harmony, giving the humble home a quiet elegance.
Behind her, an eight- or nine-year-old girl came skipping forward, wrapping her arms around the woman's neck from behind.
"Nana, don't fool around," the woman said softly, smiling as she turned and lifted the little girl into her arms.
"Ehehe—" the child giggled, her laughter echoing through the courtyard. "Mama, you're not going away again this time, right?"
The woman's hand froze mid-motion. The smile on her lips faltered slightly.
"…No, I won't leave." Seeing her daughter's expectant eyes, she forced herself to nod. "By the way, Nana—where's your father?"
"Daddy's inside making medicine," the girl replied, pointing toward the inner room. "He said soul masters always work so hard, and that you've got lots of injuries that haven't healed yet."
The woman's gaze softened, her expression dimming. Her husband was no soul master, but he was a noble-born scholar—observant and perceptive. He must have realized that her wounds were not from simple accidents, but from fierce battles with other soul masters.
I really am… an unlucky person to be with.
"What's wrong, Mama?" Nana looked up, her bright eyes full of concern.
"I'm fine," the woman said, forcing a smile as she stroked the girl's hair. But her hand suddenly paused. "Nana, be good and go find your father, alright? Mama just remembered something she has to do. I'll come to you soon."
"Okay!" The girl nodded obediently, then ran off—but after a few steps, she turned back. "You have to come back, Mama!"
"I will. Go on now."
Before the child could reply, the woman turned and leapt into the air, vanishing toward the distance.
Beyond the village stretched a small forest. She sped through the trees like a streak of light; startled animals caught only a fleeting blur before she was gone again.
Yet no matter how fast she flew, she could not shake the suffocating pressure closing in behind her. Her heartbeat quickened, her very soul trembling as though a heavy shackle had bound it.
Her legs grew heavier with every step. Before she could escape the forest, her pace faltered, and she was forced to stop.
"Number Six?"
A calm, low voice came from behind. The woman turned, and when she saw the masked figure standing before her, she froze.
That mask—she remembered it clearly. The night Elder Eight had introduced a new envoy to them, this was the face she had seen.
Though only a Saint Servant, she knew enough about the Holy Spirit Church to understand what the title Holy Envoy meant. Their strength varied, but all of them were direct representatives of the Elders—and many were Elders-in-training themselves.
Their purpose was simple: to hunt heretics in the name of the Church.
So… they really came for me. Because I tried to leave.
Across from her, Lin Xiao silently studied her.
Following the faint pull of the soul fragment, he had tracked it here—to a small village not far from Radiant City. The moment he released the fragment to confirm the direction, Number Six had reacted, fleeing into the woods.
That alone had revealed her location.
The ordinary house, the child, the quiet life—all of it painted a picture very different from the hollow servant he remembered. Her movements were smooth now, her spirit seemingly intact.
What power allowed her to recover so much? Or… was the Spirit Ascension Ceremony itself flawed?
The thought only deepened his curiosity.
"Can you… let me go?"
Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
She knew how impossible that plea was. But she still tried. Because somewhere behind her waited a husband she loved—and a child who still called her mother. She wanted to see her daughter grow up, to live long enough to fulfill the promises she had once made.
"Because of your husband and child?"
Her head snapped up. Her hands clenched into fists, her eyes flickering between desperation and defiance.
"Don't even think about attacking," Lin Xiao said calmly. "Your Phantom Spirit martial spirit poses no threat to me. Besides—"He lifted his right hand. A faint silhouette shimmered within his palm, encircled by drifting scarlet petals. "—half of your soul is still in my grasp."
"I… I never revealed anything about the Church," she stammered, her voice cracking. "They don't know who I really am. I'll return—I'll serve again, I'll… I'll offer myself to the Church. Please… please…"
Her arms trembled violently as her words broke apart. Her strength left her, and she lowered her head, whispering pleas she no longer believed could save her.
(End of Chapter)