Lin Xiao had brushed the edge of life and death, yet the Holy Spirit Church remained unchanged—still the same cold, twisted place it had always been.
From every direction came sounds: murmurs, footsteps, and, now and then, screams that quickly faded into silence—so commonplace that no one bothered to look.
He lowered his head slightly, his face hidden beneath the cloak's shadow. His senses had grown sharper; even the wails of wandering souls echoed more vividly in his ears.
"Master."
Zhongli Wu lifted his gaze toward Nightmare Douluo, then turned his eyes to Lin Xiao.
"Successful? What was the outcome?"
Nightmare Douluo's voice dropped to a lower pitch. "The process wasn't entirely smooth—but the result was satisfactory. Five ten-thousand-year rings."
Zhongli Wu straightened abruptly, his expression shifting as he studied Lin Xiao. Even within the Holy Spirit Church, where secret methods existed to extend spirit ring ages, having five black rings at such a stage was a rare, astonishing feat.
Of course, much of that was due to the hundred-thousand-year Ghost-Faced Owl used as sacrifice—but Lin Xiao's own affinity and physique were no less responsible.
Nightmare Douluo, sensing the subtle change in his master's eyes, felt a prickle of unease. He cautiously added, "Master?"
"Forget it," Zhongli Wu sighed, leaning back into his chair. "Don't worry. The Church won't take your disciple from you. If he achieves greatness in the future, your name will be remembered for it."
"Thank you, Master." Relief crept across Nightmare Douluo's face, the tension easing from his shoulders.
But Zhongli Wu shook his head slightly. "The Church may grant you resources, but if you lack the resolve to advance further, your cultivation will stagnate."
Nightmare Douluo gave a strained smile. "Master, you know as well as I do—at my level, every step forward risks one's life. Ordinary souls no longer suffice. Only the souls of other Spirit Masters barely meet the requirements. Opportunities like that are rare."
"Hmph." Zhongli Wu snorted coldly, saying no more. He understood the truth: these so-called evil soul masters would rather leech power from others than cultivate through will and discipline.
"Enough. He just completed the Spirit Ascension Ceremony. His state won't stabilize for a while. Let him recover here within the Church."
Nightmare Douluo glanced twice at Lin Xiao, still uneasy, before nodding reluctantly.
"Good." Zhongli Wu nodded in return, then added casually, "I recall your disciple's martial spirit is tied to death, yes?"
"Yes," Nightmare Douluo replied.
"Excellent. In two days, he will accompany me."
"Master, may I ask where you intend to go?" Nightmare Douluo's tone betrayed his worry.
Though Zhongli Wu had promised not to take Lin Xiao away, his words now hinted at something else entirely. It was clear the Church had begun grooming Lin Xiao for greater purpose—and from here on, his master's influence over him would likely wane.
"Where else? A place where power can truly grow. When it comes to death, no sermon or ritual compares to war."
"War?" Nightmare Douluo's heart sank.
Zhongli Wu's voice grew faintly amused. "Indeed. Xu Jing is not like his predecessor. Since taking the throne, he has focused heavily on the military. Soon, Crown Prince Xu Tianran himself will travel to the Star Luo Frontline to 'visit' the generals. I suspect both father and son harbor grand ambitions."
"Especially Xu Tianran—he's been courting nobles and Spirit Masters alike. Not only me, but even Jing Hongchen, the current head of the Illustrious Virtue Hall, has his eye. A pity, though—the Crown Prince isn't yet the Empire."
"Then… Master's meaning is?" Nightmare Douluo ventured carefully.
"If he wishes to invite us, I shall go," Zhongli Wu said lightly. "Our Church may cooperate with the imperial family, but to serve him? We shall see what strength he can display. After all, all we desire is a land where our faith—and our cultivation—can thrive."
As one of the Church's elders, Nightmare Douluo wasn't excluded from such discussions. Lin Xiao, however, had no need to be shielded from it anymore; after all, having undergone the ceremony, he was now "one of them."
He stood silently behind his teacher, expressionless. In truth, this was a blessing in disguise—if not for the ceremony, he would never have overheard such things.
When Zhongli Wu finished speaking, Nightmare Douluo turned and led Lin Xiao down a dim corridor.
"Lin Xiao?"
The corridor was lined with stone chambers—the living quarters for the Church's disciples. As the two passed by, a soft voice called from behind.
Lin Xiao paused and turned his head. Nightmare Douluo did the same.
"It really is you?"
The speaker was a young girl, about Lin Xiao's age. Her robes were disheveled, and when she noticed him looking, she hastily straightened them, her face tinged with embarrassment.
He didn't reply. Silence fell between them.
Her faint smile vanished, replaced by sorrow. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.
Before she could retreat, a nearby stone door creaked open. Two Holy Spirit disciples stepped out, followed by another young woman identical to her in appearance.
"Wu Yu, you can come in now."
"Elder Sister," the first girl whispered, glancing at Lin Xiao one last time before walking toward the chamber.
Lin Xiao's gaze flicked briefly toward the room. Inside, her twin sister, Wu Yun, stood wrapped in nothing but a thin veil. A faint, lingering scent drifted through the air. Lin Xiao didn't need to look closer to know what had transpired.
Wu Yun bowed slightly in greeting, her expression calm and emotionless. Lin Xiao inclined his head in acknowledgment, then turned away.
"Elder Sister, you—"
"It's nothing," Wu Yun said softly, watching Lin Xiao's departing back.
"I recall those twin sisters were the ones you brought back from Rising Sun City, weren't they?" Nightmare Douluo's tone was casual.
Lin Xiao remembered. Their parents had died young, and neither had awakened a martial spirit until they were captured and tortured—until hatred awakened their Avenging Spirit martial souls.
The Church had somehow learned of them and ordered Lin Xiao to bring them back.
It wasn't rescue—not really. Whether he'd saved them or simply delivered them from one hell to another, he no longer knew.
Seeing him remain silent, Nightmare Douluo said nothing more. It was common for those who had undergone the Spirit Ascension to suffer memory gaps or confusion afterward; such things usually faded with time.
"Here we are," he said finally, stopping before another stone door. "You heard the Master's orders. In a few days, you'll accompany him to the front lines. Death and battle await there—an opportunity few others could dream of."
(End of Chapter)