"Eh...?"
"Dad?"
Yue's soft, lodic voice trembled with surprise as she watched Wang Xiao, suddenly drift into slumber without uttering a single word.
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, adding a hint of innocence to her otherwise serene expression.
His chest remained still—no sign of breath—but Yue, with her past experiences, believed it to be nothing more than another of his deep sleeps.
What she couldn't have known, however, was that in this very mont, Wang Xiao's soul had quietly slipped from his body.
Now, he hovered above, gazing down not just at his beloved daughter but also at his own form, which lay peacefully below.
"Astral plane, huh..."
Wang Xiao mused softly, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips as he floated effortlessly in the air.
The world around him was unchanged, yet eerily distant, for in this ethereal state, no one could hear him or witness his presence.
This was the sa unstable state he had experienced since returning from the dreaded Graveyard of Gods.
In truth, Wang Xiao had long identified the root of his problem: his soul had grown so powerful that his mortal body could scarcely contain it.
Often, it would be violently ejected, leaving him in this spectral state.
All he could do now was patiently wait for his spirit to stabilize before rging back with his physical form.
Drifting through the air, Wang Xiao noticed that his astral self retained all the abilities of his physical body.
In fact, he felt even more liberated, as though he no longer required a body at all.
Perhaps this was why his soul sought to escape so often.
"Hmmm...."
His attention was suddenly drawn to Yue, whose large, doe-like eyes were fixed on his slumbering form.
Puchi!
Her delicate hand, as soft as a snowflake, instinctively reached out, her fingers gently poking his cheek.
Her rosy lips pouted slightly in concentration, making her look all the more endearing.
Wang Xiao felt an inexplicable sense of violation.
A slight laughter crept up his ghostly face as he watched her, coughing awkwardly to regain his composure.
He then began to focus, gradually mastering the control of his astral form, though those troubleso, forced ejections still not completely under his command.
Whoosh!
Without a mont's hesitation, a tear in the fabric of space appeared before him, and his soul slipped through, leaving the physical world behind once more.
______
Frostholm.
The Abandoned Lands.
Whoosh!
A biting wind howled across the desolate expanse, its icy breath chilling the very earth, causing even the stones to shiver.
From a small, flickering tear in the fabric of space, Wang Xiao erged, his eyes narrowing as they fixed upon the massive rift that stretched for tens of kiloters across the frozen wasteland.
Though the tear appeared sealed to most, Wang Xiao's keen gaze pierced through the illusion, revealing the faint outline of a lingering portal just beyond the veil of reality.
He had always been intrigued by the Hell Spirits—how did they traverse the Graveyard of Gods unscathed?
What dark secrets allowed them to pass through its otherworldly energies?
The answer ca to him swiftly: souls weren't truly blocked by the Graveyard of Gods, and this hidden portal was the key, a gateway to other worlds.
The very thought was both exciting and terrifying.
What lay on the other side?
Would he find himself in a realm of untold horrors or one of unimaginable beauty?
The first ti he ventured through, a question plagued his mind—what if ti flowed differently?
What if a single mont spent there would result in thousands of years passing in his world?
To his relief, no such ti dilation existed, though its absence was unsettling in its own way.
Resolving himself, Wang Xiao plunged into the portal, the air around him rippling as he crossed the threshold.
Whoosh!
"Not this one..."
In an instant, he reappeared, his body trembling uncontrollably.
He had entered the wrong world yet again, and this one was a realm of unforgiving frost, so cold that even his cultivation couldn't shield him from its icy grasp.
Indeed, controlling which world he entered was beyond him.
All he could do was repeat the process, diving into the unknown again and again, erging each ti only to be thrust back into the rciless cold of Frostholm.
After what felt like an eternity—thousands of attempts—the portal finally closed, leaving the land as empty and lifeless as before.
Frostholm, once again, beca devoid of any soul.
______
Boom!
The sky split open with a thunderous roar, the storm raging as if reflecting the turmoil in the hearts below.
Lightning illuminated the dark forest, casting fleeting, eerie light on the battlefield strewn with the remnants of a vicious struggle.
Pat-pat-pat!
Rain poured down in relentless sheets, turning the earth into a mire of mud and blood.
Near the bloodstained chariot, a man stood still, his robes soaked and heavy, his eyes misty with emotion as he looked upon the young girl before him.
She was no longer the child he had known, but a beautiful, blossoming young girl, her silver hair plastered to her face, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
When she saw him, all the pain and longing she had held back ca rushing to the surface.
Without a second thought, she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, her voice trembling as she cried out, "Senior Brother! I've missed you so much!"
He caught her instinctively, his arms wrapping around her slender fra, pulling her close as if she might disappear if he let go.
Her warmth against him was overwhelming, bringing with it a flood of mories—of the days they had spent together, of her laughter, her smiles, of the quiet monts they had shared under the vast sky of their sect.
His heart ached with the weight of those mories, of the bond they had ford.
But as he held her, the pain only deepened.
He had made a promise, one that now bound him like chains.
He had vowed to her master that he would protect her, that he would not let anything co between her and her path to greatness.
"Junior Sister..." he began, his voice thick with emotion as he gently tried to pull away. "I... I promised your master..."
The mont the words left his lips, her expression changed, the joy and relief in her eyes giving way to anger and hurt.
"Promised my master?" she repeated, her voice trembling, but this ti with a different emotion. "Is that all you care about?...A promise?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers