Section Twenty-Seven: Matters of the Soul Know No Bounds—A Corporeal Vessel So Plump It Holds the Soul Like a Ball

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“Here, soul-type spells are magnified dozens of times!” Bear Third warned, and Long Yi was flustered. His soul, which had once been incomparably powerful in the Immortal Realm, was now grievously wounded and utterly spent after descending to a lower world. Moreover, attacks between souls were the most perilous—one careless mistake and you would suffer grievous harm.

Long Yi’s face twisted in anger; he was just about to let out a dragon’s roar and cast a spell to subdue his foes, when suddenly, with a splash, Yu Shao was swept away in a flash, as if propelled by a hundred-meter sprint.

The Immortal King Long Yi, now calm, revealed a look of terror—when had he ever shown such fear? Even when faced with the Tiger-faced Immortal, he had always had a way to escape. Yet, in the funnel-shaped vortex ahead, resembling a great portal, it was as if another terrible existence lay in wait.

“In this mid-level space, these are the means of an Immortal Emperor from the Immortal Realm!” Wu Yun closed his eyes and began to cast a spell. The rigid souls beside him gradually faded, finally merging into the soul-water, causing it to grow by a few drops.

This was the orthodox method for refining soul-water: it did not violate the heavens, but was akin to killing the chicken to get the egg—it left no cycle or continuation.

Little Bug, witnessing this, was utterly delighted and cried, “Master, teach me! If hell is not empty, how can I attain Buddhahood right here?”

Wu Yun chanted softly, his twisted arm making a gesture, and a Sanskrit character appeared on Little Bug’s forehead, granting him instant enlightenment.

“Is it really so difficult? Using one’s own lifespan to liberate others—doesn’t that mean sacrificing your own years for their release?” Little Bug was stunned. This form of Buddhism was not orthodox; it belonged to the extreme, a path of severe penance and repentance.

Wu Yun snorted. “If you cannot make even this sacrifice to achieve perfect merit, how can you hope to become a Buddha? This is the true path of Buddha—the true Dharma, the true...”

Carried by Long Yi in battle mode, they pierced through twelve layers of the funnel-shaped vortex; but upon reaching the thirteenth, the dragon soul’s pressure lost its advantage and they fell into a vicious struggle.

Over ten thousand broken souls at the peak of righteous souls unleashed all manner of soul magic—soul-drawing, soul-boring, illusions of heat and cold, sweetness and sourness, pain and torment...

Do not underestimate such simple soul attacks. As a certain god of chaos once said: “There is no small matter in the realm of souls.” Once tainted, it is as though a drop of ink fell into clear water—removing it entirely is all but impossible.

Among the group, Bear Third, as a Thunder Bear, had flashes of lightning within his soul and coped with ease. Liu Ruyan had a treasured artifact from her sect, riding a flood-drake eagle and wielding a jade scepter; as long as she supplied spiritual energy, it would unleash attacks to drive away approaching souls.

The Battle King sat cross-legged like an ascetic monk, curling into an irregular sphere. No matter how the souls bit and tore, they could not break the thin protective membrane around him.

Even Little Bug, following Wu Yun’s example, would touch a soul with the tip of his brightest finger, and each time, would enlighten one, allowing it to merge into the soul-water and find complete release.

The Immortal King Long Yi was the coolest—standing before Wu Yun, the tens of thousands of broken souls dared not attack him directly, only surrounding him layer upon layer. He watched as Wu Yun, having opened his mind, allowed hundreds of broken souls to enter his body, filling him with all manner of soul magic.

Even if he were bold enough not to resist, such self-destructive behavior would still injure his soul.

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Yet to the layman it was mere spectacle, while the adept saw the subtleties. Little Bug could hear a voice surging from Wu Yun’s mind, indistinct when he listened intently, but as soon as he let go, it struck like sudden enlightenment.

“In the myriad worlds, on the path of reincarnation, there are three teachings and three taboos. In the human world, there is one teaching: ‘Human nature is good at birth...’” Wu Yun, like a chanting monk, began to lecture, his muttered words conjuring the image of that ambitious child—who, perhaps, had already become a Buddha in his own realm.

More and more broken souls pressed in. Even the shape-shifting techniques that Long Yi could not solve were forced open by the invading souls. His body began to restore itself—his twisted legs and inflated arms slowly returned to normal.

But the broken souls multiplied, like wolves starved for ten days catching the scent of meat, or like passengers crowding into a subway car. As Wu Yun swelled into a ball, fatter than ever, still, souls forced their way inside.

At last, the tens of thousands of broken souls disappeared, and Wu Yun, once serpent-shaped, was now balloon-like, an actual hot-air balloon. Even his feet were hidden from view as he tottered forward.

In particular, he had deployed the armor given by the Battle King, his whole body emitting mist—if one looked closely, within almost every pore, a twisted face could be seen, writhing and shifting.

The surroundings fell silent. The now unrecognizable Wu Yun rolled past Long Yi, leading the way. After passing through the fourteenth funnel vortex, all was empty.

This perplexed Bear Third and the others. “That can’t be right,” he said. “Those were righteous souls just now; next should be broken god souls at this level. It can’t possibly...”

“You’re correct,” came Wu Yun’s voice, though no one could tell where his mouth was. He explained, “By all rights, there should be at least a hundred powerful broken souls here. Even Yu Shao’s remnant soul should be present.”

“In fact, on the next level, there are souls even more powerful than broken gods,” Long Yi cut in impatiently. “Complete souls that surpass the peak of broken gods—even more powerful than I am now.”

Long Yi’s tone grew grave. Upon reaching this level, a sense of crisis descended. He understood why the Tiger-faced Immortal had refused to come and why he was observing Wu Yun’s strength.

Any who descended to a lower realm—body and soul—would be worn down by spatial rifts until they barely met the space’s minimum standards.

And to break through the peak of broken gods after descending, whether through body or soul, the spirits and laws of this place, the very order of heaven, would not tolerate it.

“My heart is uneasy,” Wu Yun muttered, and no sooner had he spoken than the eight or nine thousand remaining righteous souls inside, not yet liberated, rushed out like a swarm of bees and were sucked into the small, vat-sized vortex ahead.

Wu Yun returned to normal, though his face was cold, and Long Yi used his fire-breath to keep warming his limbs.

“Do we really have to go to the next level?” Liu Ruyan wavered; here, she could sense the soul-force of broken gods at their peak. After countless years, some stories would never fade.

Bear Third, the Battle King, and Little Bug too began to lose their nerve. But when Long Yi cast a spell and veiled the group in a red mist from his nostrils, their spirits swiftly recovered—even Little Bug, though weak, was now energized and battle-ready.

“What is this stuff?” The flood-drake eagle, its wings pinched by Liu Ruyan, voiced her question.

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Outside the red mist, clusters of illusory mirages tried to invade, but dissipated under its interference. Earlier, the group’s fear had allowed such illusions to take hold.

Neither Wu Yun nor Long Yi answered. Both stared intently at the vat-sized vortex ahead. Long Yi moved to advance, but Wu Yun stopped him, whispering, “Wait.”

Time passed, and the mirages grew clearer, alarming Liu Ruyan. Within the visions, she saw the previous abbots of the Pagoda Sect, who had risked everything to explore this place—choosing not to ascend but to brave the dangers here. Through hardships they reached the group’s current position, only for the vision to suddenly flicker, as if a toad had snapped up its prey, and the final soul was plunged into endless darkness.

“King Zengu!”

“Lord Liuli!”

“Tiger of Heqiu!”

Those whose names were called were among the most powerful beings over countless years—especially King Zengu, who surpassed even Lord Liuli and the Tiger of Heqiu, and was more ancient and mysterious than the seven-colored tree demon.

Who could have guessed they would fall here? Some, it was unclear how they lost their souls and will; others, after enduring countless trials and thinking they had discovered the truth, perished instead.

What was hidden inside this vat-sized vortex?

“Steady your mind, don’t let your thoughts run wild—it’s not as terrifying as you imagine,” Wu Yun tried to reassure them, but before he finished, his figure vanished in a flash, swept into the mouth of the vortex.

“Damn it!” Bear Third cursed, turning to retreat to the previous level, but entering was easy—leaving, impossible. No matter what he tried, even unleashing the power of thunder, he could not go back.

For after entering the fourteenth level, the entrance vortex disappeared, as if the group had been transported in out of thin air.

As panic set in, Long Yi, alert and on guard, suddenly revealed his true form and seized something with one claw. The Battle King and the rest were about to rejoice, when the thing in his grasp began to beg for mercy.

Bear Third looked closely and was astonished—it was Nantian!

Nantian, who had been captured by the Tiger-faced Immortal, was now here. Long Yi examined him for a moment, sensed no enemies, and tightened his grip; Nantian cried out in pain, “We’ve met a few times before—please, spare me, spare me!”

The dragon claw relaxed, and Nantian was freed. Without hesitation, he said, “My soul is under a restriction—no matter life or death, I belong to that cat demon. He waits outside and sent me here, saying that wherever I go, it is as if he himself has arrived.”

The group checked him carefully and found nothing amiss, but Long Yi snorted, “A soul-for-body exchange! If he were here in person, you’d be annihilated. In the past, we might have been able to save you, but now that the power of faith has been severed, there’s nothing else to be done.”