novelraw Chapter 108 : Collecting Heroic Souls, Fortune Surges (4k)
Chapter 108 : Collecting Heroic Souls, Fortune Surges (4k)
Chapter 108: Collecting Heroic Souls, Fortune Surges (4k)
As soon as he held the warm Dragon-Patterned Jade Pendant, Jiang Zhaoming’s heart trembled violently.
His fingertips brushed over the clear lines engraved upon the pendant—an elegant and forceful character “貳”, and below it, two smaller characters: “Zhaolin”.
The owner of the pendant was clear.
Before him sat a skeleton upon a throne of bones, clad in tattered golden armor.
It was none other than the First Prince of Anxi—his second royal brother.
The one who had once led Anxi Prefecture to its peak of glory, yet mysteriously vanished in the end—the legendary figure, Jiang Zhaolin!
Suppressing the surge of complex emotions in his heart, Jiang Zhaoming spoke in a low voice: “Jiang Zhaoming greets Royal Brother. Tonight marks the Shaosheng Year Four Hundred and Twelve.”
That long-silent consciousness seemed to freeze for a moment, before erupting into a deafening, earth-shaking laugh that echoed through the ruins.
Within that laughter was boundless sorrow and release, indescribable in words.
After a long while, the laughter faded. Jiang Zhaolin’s lingering intent returned to an almost deathlike calm.
“I’ve been trapped here for a thousand years. I thought the outside world had long changed beyond recognition, yet it seems… only a mere hundred years have passed—·”
That thought carried exhaustion, tinged with a faint, almost imperceptible trace of relief.
“Such———is good, very good!”
“Hm?”
Suddenly, that thought turned toward Jiang Zhaoming’s side, carrying doubt.
“The one beside you looks rather familiar. Could it be—motherf—! Sangji Jiacuo! It really is you, you treacherous beast!”
With that roar filled with a millennium of hatred, the long-silent golden armor upon the corpse suddenly blazed with a blinding golden light.
A vast, mountain-crushing aura descended with explosive force.
Jiang Zhaoming felt his breath choke—his Spiritual Energy nearly froze solid.
He quickly shouted, “Royal Brother, quell your anger! Sangji Jiacuo has long been executed. This is merely a puppet body I control through secret arts—it’s not his true self!”
Yue Fei and Lilian turned pale as paper, eyes filled with shock.
Even this armor, sustained by a fragment of lingering soul, had released a pressure surpassing the Golden Body Realm, reaching the Profound Core Realm!
The depth of cultivation and obsession of this Prince of Anxi, who had perished a hundred years ago, was truly terrifying.
Moments later, that suffocating aura slowly receded like a tide.
The golden radiance dimmed, leaving only the heavy sound of breathing amid the ruins.
When that boundless hatred had calmed, Jiang Zhaoming carefully asked:
“Royal Brother, a hundred years ago you and the elites of Anxi vanished without a trace. Rumors abound in the outside world—what truly happened?”
“Ah—”
Jiang Zhaolin’s thought gave a cold, self-mocking laugh, as if ridiculing his past self.
“In those days, I was first on the Dragon Ranking, having achieved Profound Core, unmatched in fame. I believed that with the vast world before me, there was nowhere I could not go.”
“Alas—” His thought suddenly turned cold as ice.
“I was deceived by the honeyed words of that beast, Sangji Jiacuo.
I believed this so-called Kingdom of Sunlight to be a place where one might transcend the Profound Core Realm, perhaps even glimpse a higher path.
So I personally led the full might of Anxi—millions of Blood-Refining soldiers, and over a dozen Golden Body Generals—into this realm. In the end...”
He did not finish his words, but the endless sorrow and regret filling the ruins said everything.
Jiang Zhaoming felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He finally understood the truth behind that century-old calamity that had brought Anxi Prefecture to sudden ruin.
When he heard Jiang Zhaolin describe those towering, man-bodied, ram-headed creatures—immensely strong, fearless in death—a cold dread rose from the depths of his bones.
A Profound Core Realm powerhouse, leading millions of elite troops and a dozen Golden Body Generals, enough to sweep through the Western Regions—
Had been utterly annihilated here?
What terrifying beings lurked within this Blessed Land?
“Royal Brother, then... heading further south would lead to the lair of those strange creatures?”
“Yes and no. Those things are merely penned beasts—minions.”
“I, lingering here by chance, have glimpsed some truths. Those ram-headed monsters aren’t an independent race, but servants to something far more dreadful—kept here like guard dogs watching the gate.”
“Something more dreadful?” Jiang Zhaoming’s pupils shrank.
“Until death————I never saw its full form.”
Jiang Zhaolin’s thought carried deep helplessness.
“It hides in the deepest part of this Blessed Land. Its aura is like an abyss, like a prison. Its power... I fear, already surpasses the Profound Core Realm.”
Beyond Profound Core.
Those four words struck Jiang Zhaoming like a hammer to the chest, quenching all curiosity and ambition within him—leaving only cold dread.
If this Blessed Land’s entrance remained open, Anxi Prefecture would face yet another—and even more terrifying—Other-Dimensional Passage.
Jiang Zhaoming decided at once: “Thank you for the warning, Royal Brother. I’ll lead everyone out of this place immediately. But… how may I take your soul with me?”
“Leave?”
Jiang Zhaolin’s thought was silent for a moment before a bitter, eerily calm laugh echoed.
“Ha ha… I————can no longer leave.”
“Why?” Jiang Zhaoming asked, confused.
“My lingering soul has already fused with this golden armor.
All remaining soul force has become the chains sealing this armor, forming the final barrier.
If that monster from the abyss ever tries to escape this realm—this body, this armor, shall still block its path!”
Jiang Zhaolin’s thought swept over the ruins, built from the bones of his fallen soldiers and himself.
At last, his gaze turned south toward the endless darkness, his voice heavy as mountains.
“After all, the entrance to this realm lies in Anxi. If that thing were to emerge, the commoners of Anxi would face utter destruction.”
Jiang Zhaoming looked upon the golden armor that stood guard upon the bones—broken yet still radiating unyielding will—
Then to the skeleton upon the throne.
At that moment, he truly understood this second royal brother he had never met—one who had once made grave mistakes, yet chose to eternally guard the abyss with his shattered soul.
“Though my soul remains here, it is these soldiers who fought for me that I pity most—their spirits still cannot rest.”
Jiang Zhaoming froze.
He could understand how a Profound Core Realm powerhouse might preserve his soul through secret arts—but how could ordinary soldiers’ souls endure a thousand years without fading?
A thought flashed in his mind. Without hesitation, he took out the ancient Monument of Heroic Souls.
Spiritual Energy flowed from his body like a gentle stream, slowly into the monument.
Then he entered the Spirit-Viewing state—the world before him shifted.
And what he saw left him shocked.
The ruined, crumbling city was not empty at all.
Countless spectral souls drifted through the shattered walls and rubble like mist.
Most of them had hollow eyes, wandering aimlessly or crouched in corners—
As though trapped in an eternal dream, their minds lost, drifting by mere instinct.
“These are…?”
He turned sharply toward Jiang Zhaolin’s remains.
In the Spirit-Viewing state, what he saw was no longer bones and armor, but a towering phantom bound by countless chains.
That phantom bore Jiang Zhaolin’s faintly recognizable face, seated cross-legged upon a “throne” built of bones.
Sensing Jiang Zhaoming’s gaze, the chained phantom slowly looked up, showing a weary, faintly surprised smile.
“The laws of this world are strange indeed—”
Jiang Zhaolin’s voice carried deep helplessness.
“Souls cannot naturally disperse, nor enter reincarnation. They are forced to endure eternal torment, slowly losing their consciousness.
My sons of Anxi—and all these fallen souls of countless unknown eras—
Are the same.”
Jiang Zhaoming’s gaze swept across the pit’s edge and ruined corners.
Those wandering like living corpses had clearly fallen into complete oblivion—the last spark of sentience long gone.
He lowered his head, looking at the softly glowing Monument of Heroic Souls in his hand. A thought arose—clear and resolute.
“Perhaps——I can guide these heroic souls of Anxi back to their homeland, so they may rest in peace, freed from this endless torment.”
Jiang Zhaolin looked on in curiosity as the monument in Jiang Zhaoming’s hand suddenly burst into dazzling light.
The stone grew rapidly, transforming in an instant into a towering stele dozens of zhang high.
The surface of the monument rippled like flowing water. A vast and solemn Gate of Light burst open at the center of the ruined city.
The souls of the Anxi Army soldiers who had been wandering aimlessly, suddenly seemed to feel the call of their bloodline. A faint glimmer returned to their hollow eyes.
They turned one after another, gathering toward the Gate of Light, transforming into streams of brilliance that poured into the Monument of Heroic Souls.
And it was not only the heroic souls of Anxi.
As the gate opened, many souls curled up in the corners—clad in ancient garments, who had perished here countless ages ago—
Were also drawn forth. Slowly, they raised their numb heads, their hollow eyes reflecting the source of the light, filled with an instinctive yearning.
Jiang Zhaoming looked at those ancient souls who did not belong to the Anxi Army, hesitation flashing across his heart.
Should he… accept them as well?
At that moment, deep within his Sea of Consciousness, upon that boundless River of Fortune, a sudden change erupted.
Countless tiny points of light emerged from the void, converging madly like rivers flowing into the sea.
In the blink of an eye, several streams of clearly visible Blue Fortune rapidly formed and swelled above the river.
This was—Fortune?
Fortune from the souls he had freed?
What kind of beings had they been in life, that merely gathering their souls would bring such immense blessings of fortune?
Seeing the change upon the River of Fortune, Jiang Zhaoming no longer hesitated.
With a single thought, the radiance of the Gate of the Monument flared violently, its range expanding in an instant to envelop the entire ruined city.
The guiding power grew vast yet gentle, no longer distinguishing between past or present.
「All who enter the monument shall find peace！」
Jiang Zhaoming’s voice resounded deep within every wandering soul’s consciousness.
Countless ethereal figures—whether clad in the uniform of Anxi or in tattered ancient garb—seemed to have found their way home.
They merged into a vast river of souls, surging toward the Gate of Light that radiated tranquil serenity.
This process continued for quite some time.
When the final soul vanished into the monument, the radiance of the Monument of Heroic Souls gradually receded, returning to its ancient, simple form.
Having gathered all the souls within the ruined city, Jiang Zhaoming found that three strands of Purple Fortune and six strands of Blue Fortune had condensed within him.
Within the monument itself now dwelled eighty million souls.
And this—was only from the ruins of a single city.
To think, once upon this land once called “Blessed Land,” how fierce a war must have raged?
How many beings had been buried here?
Jiang Zhaoming then examined the state of the souls within the monument—
And what he saw left him stunned.
Among the eighty million souls, there were hundreds of thousands whose soul force was still immensely strong.
That meant that before their deaths, their cultivation had all been above the Divine Power Realm.
After counting with the aid of the Monument Spirit, he discovered that among them, three hundred and seventy thousand had reached the Divine Power Realm in life, nine thousand the Myriad Phenomena Realm, and five hundred and twelve the Golden Body Realm.
There were even three enormous souls, each vast as a mountain—though their consciousness had long faded, their strength revealed that they had been at the Profound Core Realm.
Just how many had perished in this cursed place?
A chill ran through Jiang Zhaoming, his heart shaken by the tragedy buried beneath these ruins.
He then tested the souls, attempting to communicate—to see if any could emerge from the monument to fight.
Unfortunately, those who had lost their consciousness no longer possessed such ability.
For the heroic souls within the monument to fight once more, they must not only have strong soul force, but also retain at least a sliver of awareness.
Jiang Zhaoming put away the Monument of Heroic Souls and turned once more toward Jiang Zhaolin’s remains.
The skeleton sitting upon the throne of bones seemed to lower its skull ever so slightly.
Through the jade pendant, a feeling of relief clearly flowed into Jiang Zhaoming’s heart.
「Thus, on behalf of my fallen soldiers and the souls of this city, I offer you my thanks.」
Jiang Zhaolin’s thought echoed, filled with long-awaited release.
「Royal Brother, your words are too heavy,」 Jiang Zhaoming replied solemnly.
Jiang Zhaolin’s thought paused, as though recalling something.
「Ah Ming, head two li west of this city’s ruins. There should still be a storage hall remaining there. You may find some things left behind. If you can take them, do so—let them not gather dust here any longer.」
Under Jiang Zhaolin’s precise guidance, Jiang Zhaoming soon located a region in the western ruins shrouded by an exceptionally refined concealment formation.
With a wave of his hand, he shattered the lingering array. A heavy, dust-covered Mysterious Iron Gate appeared before him.
Creak—!
With a harsh grinding of metal that set his teeth on edge, the gate that had lain sealed for centuries slowly swung open.
At the moment it opened, a dazzling brilliance flooded the air, nearly blinding him.
Near the entrance, piles of Spirit Crystals like small mountains glimmered softly in the dim light.
Dense Spiritual Energy poured forth.
Yet these Spirit Crystals were but the most ordinary sight within the vast hall.
Jiang Zhaoming’s gaze swept beyond them, and his pupils contracted sharply once again.
Within the depths of the hall, stacked like scrap metal upon the floor, were nearly a thousand Magical Artifacts of various shapes and sizes.
Blades, spears, swords, halberds, axes, hooks, and forks—everything imaginable—though covered in dust, their sharp essence still shone through.
Above those heaps, dozens of other items were separately displayed—some upon racks, some upon jade stands.
Their forms were more peculiar, Spiritual Light circulating ceaselessly, emanating waves far stronger than any ordinary Magical Artifact.
Those were no less than sixty or seventy Spiritual Treasures!
Yet what drew Jiang Zhaoming’s gaze most was the object suspended in the very center of the hall—
On a lone, elevated platform floated a sword of dark gold hue, four chi and three cun long, its spine straight, its edge gleaming with cold light.
Runes were carved upon its guard, and its hilt was wrapped in unknown black dragon sinew.
The entire sword radiated a piercingly sharp aura, making even the surrounding mountains of treasures pale in comparison.
Before Jiang Zhaoming could approach, Jiang Zhaolin’s thought once again echoed in his mind, filled with solemn trust.
「This sword is called 『Zhu Xie (Demon-Smiting)』. It followed me through countless battles, drinking deep of alien blood. In my final campaign, it gained fortune and nurtured a true spirit, ascending to the rank of a Sacred Treasure—I now bestow it upon you.」
A Sacred Treasure!