Chapter 22: Deadly Trap

Su Chuni's sword could not be resisted even by the Monk's Golden Body.

The Monk could only throw out a blood śarīra and a scroll of human skin scripture.

Both artifacts were forged and nourished with countless lives, true demonic sect treasures.

Yet the moment these two artifacts emitted their glow, they collided with Su Chuni's sword—and then… there was nothing more.

The śarīra shattered, the scripture torn apart.

Countless vengeful spirits flew out, but were likewise shredded by the swordlight, leaving not the slightest effect on Su Chuni.

As Su Chuni had said, the swordheart is one, unshakable.

Layer upon layer of Golden Body crumbled like paper, pierced through by the swordlight; even the robe the Monk had placed all his hopes in proved useless—the hundreds of talismans sewn inside never had time to activate before the robe itself was ripped apart.

The swordtip finally pierced the Monk's body, flesh peeling away, bones ground to mud.

Only at this moment did the Monk recall the old tales told by his sect's elders.

During the initial Holy-Demon War, the Sect Master of the Qinghe Sword Sect slashed through the Golden Body of the Niepan Sect Sect's leader with a single swordstroke.

That Sect Leader possessed thirty-six divine abilities, yet none could block that earth-shattering sword.

The Monk was merely at the Tongxuan realm; after centuries of arduous cultivation, he had mastered only one Open-Chant technique—and now, seeing this rainbow-like swordlight, he truly understood what "Qinghe Sword Art is number one under heaven" meant.

These centuries of bitter cultivation merely allowed him to endure the swordlight a little longer, giving him a chance to preserve his soul.

"Fortunately, I prepared a cursed spirit child."

This was the Monk's final thought.

Demonic cultivators commit countless killings; there are always times when they drown in their own filth—he had long prepared for this.

The cursed spirit child's crafting method is brutally cruel, yet its effect is exceptional—it is arguably the best possession method for a Tongxuan realm cultivator.

Moreover, the Niepan Sect has secret techniques that reduce soul-transfer damage and accelerate recovery.

He also kept artifacts, spirit talismans, and pills; even now with his soul weakened, within half a day he could restore eighty percent of his cultivation.

Then he would return directly to the Niepan Sect—dare that Qinghe Sword Sect brat follow him there?

The Monk felt triumphant; no matter how skilled this Qinghe Sword Sect brat's sword art was, lack of experience was his greatest flaw.

You haven't even neutralized your opponent's life-saving tricks, yet you still think of slaying demons and exterminating evil?

Just as he gloated, the Monk felt his soul being violently pulled, uncontrollably drifting away—he did not panic, but willingly followed the suction.

"Here it comes—the curse seal carved onto the cursed spirit child has activated; my soul will be drawn in automatically. Once I possess and be reborn, I shall certainly… hmm? Wrong!"

The Monk suddenly sensed something amiss—possession and rebirth should be swift, merging with flesh like a fetus being born, warm and comfortable—but now he felt nothing but icy cold.

Upon careful sensing, he heard only the wailing cries of vengeful spirits, and some unknown force bound his soul, rendering him motionless.

The Monk strained with all his might—his body clattered loudly, as if bound by chains.

But he was a soul now—where were these chains from?

A newly detached soul is still too weak to perceive clearly; only when the Monk regained some strength did he see countless yin spirits swirling around him, howling and wailing, shaking his soul.

The Monk's soul was indeed bound by chains, the other ends of which connected to a pitch-black long banner.

The Monk screamed in shock: "Ten Thousand Souls Banner?! No—this is my Ten Thousand Souls Banner!"

He looked again, and finally saw a massive boulder ten zhang away.

Behind that two-zhang-tall, moss-covered green stone, someone was hiding!

Without hesitation, the Monk channeled his dwindling spiritual energy into a vajra club and hurled it.

The vajra club was formed entirely of spiritual energy—seeming insubstantial, yet possessing the power to split mountains and shatter rocks.

This strike would surely pulverize both the stone and the person behind it.

But before the vajra club landed, a bamboo pole flew out from behind the green stone, its bulging contents absorbing the vajra club's full force.

They collided—the golden light shattered, the impact cracking the entire green stone with fissures.

The thrown bamboo pole had already turned to dust, its fragments falling like a rain of needles.

The Monk frowned—something felt off about that strike; the bamboo pole seemed to have absorbed the vajra club's power.

Chen Ye, hiding behind the stone, stared in astonishment, unable to help but sigh: "This is what a true Tongxuan realm cultivator is like." Had he not dodged just now, he'd have been pierced through like a sieve.

Hearing Mo Ci glared at his disciple—what was this brat babbling about?

But looking at the shattered stone, Hearing Mo Ci had to admit—even during his first possession, he had not been as soul-resilient as this demon.

A soul detached from the body should be extremely fragile, unable to withstand wind or rain, let alone any injury—otherwise, soul dispersal looms.

Yet this demon's soul was unnaturally dense, capable of resisting the Ten Thousand Souls Banner's pull—if freed, a single glance from him could kill Chen Ye.

But Hearing Mo Ci was not worried.

Chen Ye had prepared extensively to deal with this demon.

First, he used an array to divert the connection between the cursed spirit child and the Monk—the Monk was meant to descend directly into the cursed spirit child, but Chen Ye's array redirected him ten zhang away.

Though compared to a soul traversing hundreds of li, this ten-zhang deviation seemed trivial, yet it was the very distance that separated life from death.

Even Hearing Mo Ci had not anticipated that Chen Ye could misdirect the bond between a cursed spirit child and its master—something never recorded in any text.

Even more astonishing was how Chen Ye had turned the Ten Thousand Souls Banner into his own artifact in an instant.

Though an artifact without its master is like a slave hanging a sign for sale, it was still an artifact.

Chen Ye's explanation was that for months he had studied everything related to the Ten Thousand Souls Banner to save himself—this black banner used the most traditional crafting method, thoroughly researched by Chen Ye; had it been another artifact, he would never have broken it so easily.

But to Hearing Mo Ci, this was merely Chen Ye's modesty—he had cultivated for centuries and still had not studied the Ten Thousand Souls Banner to this depth.

This disciple was truly a cultivation genius.

Though the trap had been triggered, the outcome was far from perfect.

The Monk's soul was bound by the Ten Thousand Souls Banner, yet still struggled fiercely, showing no sign of exhaustion.

Chen Ye had not expected this demon to be so tenacious—he already clutched his final sword talisman.

He had intended to imprison him within the Ten Thousand Souls Banner and deal with him slowly—but if he truly could not hold him, he would cut him down with a single swordstroke.

Chen Ye would never think that earning less meant losing out; in his view, these were all unearned benefits, and one must be willing to abandon them when the time came.

Cultivating immortality seeks eternal life; preserving one's life is the most important thing.

Monk Ku E felt a sudden resonance, as if boundless killing intent was shrouding him.

He intended to cast the spell of the thunderclap warning again, but discovered that under the consumption of spiritual power, the chains bound him even tighter, and he had moved a few steps closer to the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.

He turned to destroy the Ten Thousand Souls Banner, but the moment the Jin Gang staff emerged, countless resentful souls flew out from the banner. Sacrificing their own annihilation, they forcibly blocked Monk Ku E's spell, while his soul spirit drifted even closer to the banner, nearly being sucked into it.

Although the Ten Thousand Souls Banner is a common magical treasure of the Demonic Sects, precisely because it integrates offense and defense and is practical and useful, it has become widespread; how could it be destroyed so easily?

A soul spirit body only weakens rapidly; spiritual energy is insufficient to cover the expenditure, and resisting ordinary magical treasures is incredibly difficult. Moreover, this was a treasure he had refined himself; he knew full well how much effort and how many materials had gone into it.

Who would have thought this treasure would instead become his own death warrant?

Though he did not know how the opponent could sever his connection with the Evil Curse Spirit Child and even snatch his treasure away, he was now in imminent danger and must save himself.

"Amitabha. I hold no grudge against you, the benefactor. Why steal my treasure and endanger my life? Though I know karma binds me, evil retribution is certain."

The only thing left to preserve his life now was the supernatural power of the Open Mouth Zen. The consumption of Open Mouth Zen is far lower than other spells; as long as he coats himself with two layers of Golden Body, he can at least hold on for some time longer.

Monk Ku E did not believe this youth could shatter his Golden Body with a single sword strike.