260 Hell Soul

I’m Da Wei, except not exactly. I’m Da Wei’s Hell Soul, a shard of him carved from the vilest, darkest, most unspoken desires that slither at the bottom of his mind. If another soul ever caught wind of what Da Wei secretly fantasized about, they’d be horrified… or at least disturbed. Take Alice, for example. He once imagined her in cat ears, fluffy tail included. Ridiculous? Maybe. Tame? Absolutely. Compared to the rest of what we harbor, that’s practically saintly. I’ll admit, I’d love to see Alice in cat ears too, maybe even more than my progenitor himself, because unlike him, I wouldn’t face the punishment. I am him, but also not him. Our thoughts were intertwined, but unlike him, I have neither filter nor shame. He hears me, oh yes, but he cannot silence me. That alone makes me grin in the dark corners of his mind.

Ye Yong, my current host, pressed forward through the narrow, twisting streets of the city. Her steps were measured, cloak dragging faintly against cobblestone as dusk shadows spilled across the alley. Then, like clockwork, trouble arrived. Two rogues emerged, sealing off both ends of the path. Their grins were sharp, eyes narrowed, and weapons half-drawn. One’s cultivation aura revealed the Fifth Realm, the other a touch stronger at the Sixth. Not weaklings, but hardly enough to shake me. Still, Ye Yong’s instincts sharpened, her hand hovering at her waist, while I pulsed faintly in her chest.

“Who are you?” the taller rogue asked, his tone dripping with false confidence. “What business do you have walking these alleys alone?”

Ye Yong’s eyes narrowed, her reply cold as stone. “My name is not your concern. As for what I want…” she let the words drag with calculated tension, “…information.”

The shorter one tilted his head, smirking as though amused by her boldness. “Information, is it? What kind?”

“People,” Ye Yong answered curtly.

The first rogue leaned forward, intrigued but cautious. “Names?”

Ye Yong’s lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. “Why? Could you provide them?” Her tone challenged them both, daring them to lie, testing the thread of their courage.

The taller one nodded, his grin widening. “I can.”

Inside her chest, I stirred, whispering without words, because the truth was already unraveling. Ye Yong’s Divine Sense stretched like a blade, cutting into the man’s intent. The pulse came back sharp, poisoned with deceit. He was lying through his teeth.

“Do you know? I hate liars more than anything?”

Ye Yong’s body tensed, and in that instant, I felt her intent sharpen like a blade. She vanished from where she stood, Flash Step carrying her forward with a crack of displaced air. She reappeared before the taller rogue, her fingers darting with lethal precision as she struck him straight in the throat. The man’s eyes bulged, his hands clutching at the wound. I lent her the shadow of my progenitor’s power, pushing her beyond her current realm for that single heartbeat. It was always a thrill, watching mortals borrow strength meant for monsters.

“Now, let’s try again—”

A sudden sting cut through her back as the shorter rogue lunged from behind, his blade piercing her right shoulder. I felt her grimace, yet she did not falter. Instead, Ye Yong’s qi surged, threads of healing light weaving into her flesh as she invoked Blessed Regeneration and trapped the blade within her shoulder. Blood still bloomed, but the wound closed just enough to keep her standing firm.

Her gaze locked back on the taller one, the liar who dared test her. Cold determination filled her as she extended her right index finger, qi compressing at the tip. Hollow Point burst forth, punching a hole through his throat a second time. The man gagged, stumbling as more perforations blossomed across his chest. His body convulsed, riddled like a sieve. Ye Yong’s finger dripped crimson, slick with his blood, while I reveled in the sight of justice dealt without hesitation.

“We could’ve avoided this if you’d been more honest.”

The shorter one tried to wrench his blade free, but Ye Yong’s muscles clenched like iron, trapping the weapon inside her. His face paled, eyes wide as he realized he was caught. She turned her head, her gaze burning into him, and the fear that rippled across his expression was delicious.

With another blur of motion, she vanished and reappeared behind him, her finger striking down with surgical precision. Hollow Point punctured his knees, shattering tendons, and he collapsed to the ground with a scream, his legs ruined.

“I hate liars,” Ye Yong said, her tone low and cutting. “How about we try again?”

The taller rogue, already drowning in his blood, finally went limp, life spilling away in silence. Ye Yong stood over the crippled one, her shadow long in the dim alley, and her voice sharpened with purpose.

“Point me to someone who knows the pulse of information in this region,” she demanded. “Do that, and perhaps you won’t end up crippled for life.”

The shorter rogue trembled on the ground, clutching at his ruined knees, his eyes darting between the corpse of his companion and Ye Yong’s blood-slicked fingers. His voice cracked as he begged, “P-please… don’t kill me! I’ll tell you what you want to know! There’s a woman, a matron… she owns one of the brothels.” His words spilled in a desperate stream, fear driving him to confess.

Ye Yong tilted her head, calm and unreadable, her tone sharp as a blade. “Where?”

He swallowed hard, nodding frantically. “Northern district. You’ll see the markings, painted on the walls. Just… just follow them and ask for Matron Teng. She’ll know everyone worth knowing in this city and more.”

Ye Yong’s lips curved faintly. “Good. You didn’t lie.”

I leaned close within her heart, my whisper curling against her thoughts like smoke. “Ask him… if he’s ever raped, murdered, or taken advantage of someone.”

She obliged, her voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me truthfully… have you ever raped, murdered, or taken advantage of anyone weaker than you?”

The rogue hesitated, his gaze darting, his tone falsely steady. “No… never. I’m… I’m not that kind of man.”

I laughed in the hollow recesses of her mind, the sound dripping with amusement. “He lies with every breath. Rip his head off from the spine.”

Ye Yong clicked her tongue, the sound sharp with annoyance. “A pity.” 

And then, her face warped in amusement.

Her smile blossomed, cheeks blooming with a faint blush that only made the cruelty of what followed more chilling. She stepped closer, her two fingers glowing faintly with qi as she pressed them against his jugular. With Hollow Point surging at her touch, she dug inward, found the bone, and pinched the spine between her fingers. One pull was all it took.

The rogue’s eyes went wide with horror, his last scream caught in his throat as his head tore free from his body. Blood sprayed, staining the stones, and the sheer terror carved onto his face became his final expression. It was, I mused, a fitting portrait for a liar.

Ye Yong was practical. She stashed both corpses into her Storage Ring without ceremony, wiping the blood across her cloak as she turned northward. She traced the faint markings painted on the walls, a trail leading toward her next target. Pulling her hood up, she fastened a porcelain mask over her face.

By the time we reached the brothel, its doors glowed with subtle lantern light, and the sound of muffled laughter and music drifted into the street. “Customers” shuffled in and out, some drunk, others eager, yet all of them gave her a wide berth.

The stench of wine, sweat, and cheap perfume hit us like a wall. Men lounged in silk cushions, their arms wrapped around painted courtesans, their laughter grating against the air. Ye Yong moved silently among them, her hood low, wooden mask hiding her face. Yet no mask could hide the faint stains of blood that still clung to her robes.

That didn’t stop one drunken fool. He staggered in front of her path, his eyes glazed, a lecherous grin curling his lips. “Oi, pretty one,” he slurred, his voice thick with wine, “you’ve got a dangerous air… I like that concept.” His hand darted out, slapping crudely at her backside.

Ye Yong’s movement was calm, deliberate, and merciless. She seized his wrist before he could retract, her fingers tightening like an iron vice. A sharp twist followed, and bone snapped with a wet, sickening crack. The man’s eyes bulged as a shard of white pierced through his skin, the broken bone poking outward. His scream tore through the laughter of the hall.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Gasps rippled across the room, courtesans shrieked, and several men stumbled back in panic. The music died, leaving only the cries of the broken drunkard to fill the silence.

A guard hurried forward, a tall man with a scar running across his jaw. He shoved through the crowd, scowling at Ye Yong. “What’s the problem here?” His hand rested on his weapon, his glare burning through his pretense of control.

Ye Yong’s voice was even, cold, and without hesitation. “I need to see Matron Teng.”

The guard sneered, his lip curling in disdain. “Bitch—”

He never finished. Ye Yong let me pour my power into her veins, and her Spiritual Pressure surged outward like a storm. It spiked to the Eighth Realm, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on every soul in the hall. The guard’s snarl froze in his throat, his face drained of color, and beads of sweat broke across his forehead. His knees trembled, and he took an involuntary step back.

It almost made me laugh. So much for moving on the path of least resistance. Then again, perhaps this was the path of least resistance… sometimes the straightest road was the one paved with fear.

No one dared speak. The guard swallowed hard, his voice now meek and strained. “This… way. I’ll take you.”

He led us through a narrow corridor, the muffled sounds of pleasure and pain leaking from every room. Women’s moans echoed like a chorus through the thin walls, mixed with drunken laughter and the rhythmic thudding of flesh against flesh. The scent of incense grew stronger as we advanced, barely masking the musk of sweat and sex.

At last, the corridor opened to a lacquered door, carved with painted blossoms, its frame lined with red silk. The guard stopped, bowing his head nervously before gesturing toward it.

Ye Yong didn’t bother with courtesy. Her boot slammed into the lacquered door, wood splintering as it burst open. I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the violence; nothing beat an entrance dripping with hostility.

Inside, the office reeked of luxury. A seductress lounged lazily atop an expensive cushion, her curves framed by silk, her pipe balanced delicately between her painted fingers. Smoke coiled from its tip, thick with the acrid tang of sulfur. Her cleavage spilled like an invitation, but my attention wasn’t on her flesh… It was the oppressive power she failed to conceal to my Divine Sense, coiling beneath her skin like a coiled serpent waiting to strike.

Her lips curved in amusement, eyes flashing with a red gleam. “Well, this is a curious development,” she purred, voice husky and poisonous. “But let us not forget, this is my territory. My dear kin, kindly fuck off… or I’ll devour you whole.”

Kin. Ah, that made me chuckle. Of course, as a Hell Soul, I exude the stench of sulfur. A calling card of my existence, the mark of the vile and infernal. She could smell me the way I could smell her stench.

“Ye Yong,” I whispered in the recesses of her mind, “let me handle this.”

Her response was calm, almost reverent. She tilted her head ever so slightly and murmured aloud, “My body is yours, my liege.”

Ah, those words were sweet, like nectar laced with venom. With that, she yielded, and I surged forward, taking her flesh as my own. Her lips stretched into a manic grin as I laughed, raw and violent, the sound echoing against the silken walls of the chamber. The rush of control was intoxicating.

I spread her arms wide, feeling power coil in her veins. “Divine Mandate of Proximity.”

The words thrummed with weight, and immediately, Matron Teng stiffened. Her pupils contracted to pinpricks, horror flashing in her gaze. “What… what’s the meaning of this? What did you just do?”

The beauty of this Ultimate Spell wasn’t its grandeur. It was its tyranny. Divine Mandate of Proximity shackled an enemy’s power to their nearness of the caster. It was basically the ultimate version of the Compel Duel skill.

I laughed again, wild and gleeful, and then pushed Ye Yong’s body into motion. Zealot’s Stride carried me forward in a burning rush, Flash Step folded the distance, and Divine Speed blurred every moment until the world seemed to crawl. In the blink of an eye, I was upon her.

My hand clamped around her throat, squeezing hard enough to bruise, and hard enough to remind her she was prey. I leaned close, lips brushing against her ear, my whisper a promise of torment.

“Oh little demon,” I crooned, “you’re going to tell me everything you know. Let’s start with a couple of cultivators I’ve been looking fo—”

But she cut me off.

Her head warped grotesquely, face splitting as chitin surged forth. Mandibles clicked, and eight glossy arachnid legs sprouted violently, slashing at me in fury. The transformation reeked of panic, her true nature unveiled in desperation.

I didn’t flinch. “Searing Smite.”

Flame burst from my palm, holy fire mingling with infernal might, and her spider limbs ignited. They curled and blackened, burning to ash in seconds. Her screech shook the chamber, high-pitched and furious, the silk draperies trembling from the sound.

I only tightened my grip, tilting her charred face toward mine, my grin never faltering. “My bad,” I drawled, playful as ever, “we got off on the wrong foot. How about we do introductions first?”

She shrieked again, but the sound was weaker now, fear bleeding through the rage. Her webbing spattered across the floor, sticky and frantic, betraying her trembling.

I leaned closer, my grin widening, and spoke almost kindly. “Hi. My name’s Da Wei, Paladin.”

That was all it took. The word ‘Paladin’ landed heavier than any blow. Her body quaked, her mandibles clicked nervously, and hot streams of webbing dripped as she pissed herself in terror.

And oh, it was glorious.