Chapter 605: Teaching Spells

Li Yi kept his earlier promise and taught the invisibility spell to the White Ape; this minor spell was among countless others recorded in his Daoist manual, which he rarely had time to study, only flipping through it during idle moments.

Though the invisibility spell was a minor technique, it was still highly valuable in this world where ancestral worship granted divinity.

The White Ape learned with great delight; though it could never hide its tail, it devised a clever workaround—gripping its ancient sword in its paw, it gritted its teeth and severed its own tail outright.

Though it winced in pain, when it cast the invisibility spell again, it worked perfectly.

The invisibility spell succeeded; the flaw of the tail was gone.

"I've mastered the invisibility spell!" the White Ape exclaimed happily, utterly unconcerned by the pool of blood behind its rump.

Li Yi stared, startled.

You can do that?

If you can't hide your tail, just cut it off—how extreme.

Yet this also indirectly revealed the White Ape's unwavering devotion to the Dao, far surpassing ordinary beings; its comprehension was no less sharp—it learned a minor spell in moments. Though its existing cultivation base helped, its innate talent could not be denied.

"Spirits born of heaven and earth rarely lack potential; those lacking wit would have long since died in the wilds—how could they become spirits and cause trouble?" Li Yi thought to himself, then added, "White Ape, I see how hard your cultivation is and how steadfast your devotion to the Dao. I shall grant you another spell—do you wish to learn?"

"I wish to learn! But what spell will Master teach me?" The White Ape's eyes lit up; it dropped its ancient sword, knelt before Li Yi, and bowed with clasped hands, mimicking human etiquette.

Li Yi said calmly, "I know countless spells—wall-piercing, invisibility, earth-digging, house-building, dream-entering, shape-shifting. Choose one, and I shall teach it to you."

"So many spells?"

The White Ape was both astonished and delighted, eager to choose but unsure which to pick.

Then, in an instant, its eyes flickered and it declared, "I want to learn the fire-breathing spell you just used!"

That blast of fire had burned countless spirits and ghosts to the ground—immensely powerful. Even if it trained its sword technique for a hundred years, it could never achieve such power.

Li Yi smiled. "You wish to learn the Wind-Summoning Art? Alas, even if I wished to teach you, you could not master it. That spell requires decades of study alone, and only those with immense magic power can wield it. Instead, I shall teach you the Fire-Breathing Art—it will satisfy your wish. Come closer."

He gestured again to the White Ape.

The White Ape, delighted, did not despair at missing the Wind-Summoning Art; instead, it respectfully leaned in.

Li Yi immediately transmitted the Fire-Breathing Art from his Daoist manual to the White Ape.

The Fire-Breathing Art transformed magic power into flame, expelled in a single breath—capable of melting metal and stone. If one's magic power was strong enough, one could unleash a sea of fire—but even then, its power paled beside the Wind-Summoning Art. Yet its learning difficulty dropped sharply, making it far more suitable for this White Ape.

The White Ape listened intently, standing motionless, as if absorbing the art's essence.

Li Yi did not disturb it.

He had simply passed on two minor spells out of casual favor—no deeper motive.

Yet the fox maiden beside him watched with envy; she had never imagined this fearsome Daoist was truly a hidden master, possessing so many spells. She immediately sensed her chance, and, summoning her courage, stepped forward, knelt, and bowed deeply to the ground.

"Your humble servant, Hu Ji, failed to recognize a true master—please forgive my earlier disrespect," she said, sincere and reverent.

Li Yi glanced at her. "I've seen many spirits, but a fox spirit in human form—first time. Indeed, you are alluring, bewitching—any mortal who sees you would lose his soul. Only Prince Xin, protected by dragon qi and accustomed to luxury, remains unmoved."

Hu Ji's voice softened instantly. "If the Daoist would deign to accept me, I vow to serve you as master, attending you day and night."

"Unnecessary," Li Yi shook his head. "But I've never seen a fox spirit transform. If you can demonstrate your transformation, I shall trade you a spell—no advantage taken."

At once, Hu Ji raised her head, eyes bright with delight, yet still bowed respectfully. "Then I shall humbly perform."

She swayed her supple body, then instantly shrank; her garments fell away, and soon a yellow-and-white fox stood before Li Yi. It emerged from the pile of female robes, bowed with clasped hands, knelt, then leapt onto a nearby table, spun in circles, somersaulted, performed its talents, even lifted its head to sing—its voice beautiful and haunting.

Had one not seen it with one's own eyes, one could never believe a fox was singing.

Li Yi smiled. "Excellent. Truly a spirit-filled fox. To reach this stage in the wilds—remarkably difficult."

He had heard tales of fox spirits, but never expected, after so many reincarnations, to meet one in person—this was truly an education.

After finishing its song, the yellow-and-white fox plucked a translucent grape from a dish on the table, bounced over to Li Yi, and offered it like a precious gift, eyes pleading for approval. Li Yi took the grape and said, "I keep my word. Fox spirit, what spell do you wish to learn?"

"Whatever Master teaches, I shall learn—I dare not choose," Hu Ji bowed, kneeling before him.

Li Yi said, "As a wild spirit, survival is hard enough. Learning powerful spells for combat will only bring disaster. I shall teach you the Earth-Digging Art—should danger arise, you may escape underground and preserve your life. Come closer."

At once, the fox eagerly leaned forward, listening intently to the master's instruction.

Li Yi offered no concealment—he immediately transmitted the Earth-Digging Art to the fox spirit. Upon receiving it, she, like the White Ape, froze in place, lost in contemplation. The Daoist arts had given these spirits a new revelation—true Dao was not the trickery of heretical paths.

"Master has such generosity," the scholar beside him said, having regained his composure. "Knowing the White Ape and the fox spirit were summoned by Prince Xin, you still teach them spells."

Li Yi glanced at him. "They never attacked me or opposed me. Naturally, I treat them differently—it's not generosity. But you, scholar, have courage. To remain here under these circumstances—don't you fear imperial retribution will fall upon you?"

The scholar replied, "I have witnessed these great events—how could I stand aside? And you, Master, are no cruel killer. Why then do the gods of the land seek your destruction? Is there not some hidden reason? If this matter could be clarified, perhaps unnecessary conflict might be avoided."

"Many things in this world have no right or wrong," Li Yi said. "Each person acts according to their will. When those wills collide, conflict arises. My task is not to erase conflict—but to erase those who cause it."

The scholar paused. "Then Master must kill many people?"

No error. One word. One line. One content. One look!

"No," Li Yi said. "I need not kill. I need only make them yield. Like those ancestral spirits—they sought my life to gain favor with the court. But they were weak, unable to defeat me. Had I been weak, I'd now be a corpse." He pointed to the headless body beside him.

The scholar hesitated. "But killing goes against the Daoist way."

Li Yi asked, "Did I suffer heavenly retribution for killing those ancestral spirits?"

"No," the scholar admitted.

Li Yi smiled. "Then what right have you, a mere scholar, to declare my actions un-Daoist? Your opinion of how a Daoist should be means nothing—it is heaven's judgment that matters. Perhaps heaven is pleased I destroyed those things."

The scholar said nothing, lowering his head in thought. His lifelong studies now seemed overturned.

Yet as he pondered,

the White Ape and the fox spirit beside him were already practicing the spells they had just learned.

The White Ape breathed fire; the fox spirit dug into earth. Though clumsy, their spells often failed—but they had entered the threshold. With diligent practice, they would master them.

Soon,

an hour passed.

Prince Xin, who had hurriedly departed earlier, returned punctually to Yaoxing Tower as agreed. He looked anxious, carrying a wrapped bundle—as if preparing for a long journey to the capital.

"Are you ready?" Li Yi asked.

"Thank you, Master, for your forbearance. All is prepared. I am ready to leave Xinzhou City with you at any moment," Prince Xin said, breathing deeply, calm.

"Good. You are honest and reliable. But do not fear—I will not take your life. Once I find the one who wrote the poem, I shall release you." Li Yi rose slowly. Beneath his feet, a crimson auspicious cloud appeared, then expanded, enveloping Prince Xin's feet as well.

As the cloud gently lifted, the two rose from the ground.

"Your Highness, I shall accompany you," the swordsman said at once, stepping toward the cloud to guard Prince Xin.

Li Yi said, "Your loyalty is admirable, but this is no affair for you. Do not throw away your life—I speak for your own good."

"Let's go."

Without further hesitation, the crimson cloud surged forward, carrying the two in an instant—a streak of crimson light bursting from Yaoxing Tower. Before anyone could react, it vanished into the distant night, unseen.

"Such speed!"

The crowd was stunned again. This speed surpassed comprehension. Had they not seen it with their own eyes, they would never believe flight could carry one to the horizon in a breath.

(End of Chapter)