Great Demon - Chapter 65

Pain.

Changying was in such agony that she nearly reverted to her original form right then and there. Her fingers dug tightly into her hair, and her cold golden eyes were half-closed in pain.

The Devil Lord had been torn into a pulp under the claws of the Obsidian Dragon, yet his heart continued to beat wildly, suspended above the vast sea by a dark, swirling devilish aura.

His mangled body had been torn apart, the flesh sinking into the sea like mud, carried away by the currents to who knows where.

He had always been burdened with sin, and even in death, he could not keep his body intact. This was the retribution of karma.

Yet, Zhuyou felt something was amiss. If the Devil Lord’s body had been utterly destroyed here, how could she have seen his intact body in the coffin at the Heart-Questioning Cliff?

No, the Devil Lord was not dead.

Only now did she realize and confirm that the events within the Turbid Mirror were connected to the outside world. She refused to believe that this wisp of a soul might be… destined to remain trapped. She was determined to try.

The Obsidian Dragon, having been stabbed in the head, writhed in mid-air, its pained roars stirring up the waves once more.

Meanwhile, the Devil Lord’s wildly beating heart was quickly enveloped by a layer of soft flesh, as if insects were building a nest. The scattered pieces of flesh rose slowly from the sea, converging from all directions to piece his form back together!

The flesh and broken bones gradually fused, forming a head, spine, and limbs.

The wisp of hun soul in Zhuyou’s hand struggled, but she held on tightly, refusing to let go. She quickly scanned her surroundings but could not find the remaining two hun souls of the Devil Lord.

Changying, still enduring the pain, trembled violently, her fingers gripping her scalp so tightly they turned white.

Inside the golden pearl was a fragment of her soul, and when that fragment was injured, she could not escape the pain.

When the spiritual soul avatar had its head pierced, Changying felt as though her own skull had been split open.

Changying thought to herself, So this is how it is. This is where the karma was tied. No wonder…

No wonder she had been unable to understand why there was devil’s blood in her consciousness, why she couldn’t remember her past. It was all because of the Turbid Mirror.

Now, it was impossible to tell what had come first and what had followed, like the cycle of reincarnation. The retribution of karma was just like this. She had brought Zhuyou into the Turbid Mirror and led her a thousand years into the past, never expecting it would lead to such a dire outcome.

She suddenly felt lost. Should she blame Zhuyou, or should she blame herself for bringing this upon herself?

Zhuyou, clutching the Devil Lord’s wisp of soul, rose into the air and saw Changying standing on the clouds. Her gaze was icy, her already pale face now ghostly white, as frail as she had been in childhood.

Zhuyou knew that the golden pearl contained a fragment of Changying’s soul. Now that the fragment had been injured by the devil’s sword, Changying must be in unbearable pain.

Zhuyou had experienced the pain of having her bones broken and tendons severed, but she couldn’t imagine the agony of having one’s soul torn apart. It must be far worse than any physical injury.

Though fortune and misfortune often went hand in hand, the pain Changying was enduring did not fully transfer to Zhuyou. She only felt a wave of dizziness, as if her skull had been pried open, her consciousness chillingly empty.

Perhaps this was how Changying had felt when the devil’s blood seeped into her consciousness.

Changying was holding back, frowning as she suppressed the restless drop of blood in her heart, trying to minimize the soul-rending pain.

Zhuyou stood frozen for a long time, unsure if she had made a mistake. But could things be undone? Surely not. She had already extracted the Devil Lord’s hun soul, and the spiritual soul in the golden pearl had been injured.

She clenched her fists, her chest tight and suffocating. Seeing Changying’s pale, agonized face, she was overwhelmed with panic and didn’t know what to do.

But how could she simply let go of the Devil Lord’s soul?

A flood of regret, unlike anything she had ever felt, surged through her chest, as if someone had carved her open, each cut buried deep in her flesh, leaving her utterly wounded.

And yet… it was Changying who was in pain.

She frantically looked away, her hand clutching the Devil Lord’s soul trembling uncontrollably. She questioned herself over and over, torn between regret and self-deception—

No, she had done nothing wrong. It was Changying who had brought her into this situation. Ultimately, the fault was not hers.

Since it was the devil, how could she take the blame upon herself?

But as she turned her gaze, she saw Changying with her head bowed, her eyes still cold and distant, but her appearance so frail it seemed she might collapse at any moment. There was no trace of her former aloofness.

Changying trembled, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and framing her face. Her lips parted slightly, her breathing almost imperceptible, as if she were holding back, struggling.

Zhuyou had already closed off her heart, but with each glance, she felt a chill in her chest. The drop of blood in her heart seemed to be thrashing about, and for a moment, she was so overwhelmed that she wanted to pull Changying close, just as she had when Changying was a child.

Even as a Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens, Changying still trembled in pain, enduring it silently, her head bowed in stubbornness. In this light, Changying seemed unchanged.

The Obsidian Dragon above the sea suddenly spoke, “The body you’ve formed is too fragile to contain your three hun and seven po.”

The body the Devil Lord had formed did not speak, its eyes still closed as it floated on the devilish aura. His voice seemed to come from the void, clearly transmitted by a fragment of consciousness he had left before being torn apart—

Then I won’t let these three hun souls return to my body.

The Obsidian Dragon, still in pain, said, “The Heavenly Dao will not allow such defiance.”

The arrogant voice replied, “Then I’ll make sure it can’t catch me!”

It seemed he truly had a way to deceive the Heavenly Dao, or else how could he be so brazenly confident?

Zhuyou looked down, her gaze dark. This was exactly what she wanted to know.

The Obsidian Dragon opened its massive mouth and inhaled deeply. The two hidden hun souls of the Devil Lord were instantly swept up by the wind and waves, drawn toward the dragon.

Just as the two hun were about to be swallowed by the Obsidian Dragon, the dragon suddenly plummeted into the sea, creating a hundred-foot-high wave.

The fragment of soul in the golden pearl had already been damaged. How could it maintain the illusion of the dragon’s form?

The two souls fled, and the Devil Lord’s body was also wrapped in devilish aura and carried away.

With the Devil Lord’s destruction, the violent devilish aura surrounding them dissipated, and the spiritual energy sustaining the thousands of skeletal devil horses vanished.

The skeletal devil horses, now exposed, sank to the bottom of the sea with a thud, and the devil soldiers riding them, caught off guard, fell into the water one after another.

The devils, who had intended to rise from the sea, were instead dragged into the depths by the swirling currents.

The entire ocean seemed to have transformed into a gaping maw, devouring the devil soldiers whole.

With a crashing roar, the waves rolled over, drowning out the cries of the devil soldiers. In an instant, the sea fell silent once more.

The wind calmed, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed, and the sunlight shone brightly.

Zhuyou glanced down at the water below. Both the devil horses and the devil soldiers had turned to dust in an instant, nourishing the depths of the sea.

That place was…

Cold Eye.

The sun hung in the sky, its divine light casting a golden glow over the sea, reminiscent of Changying’s eyes.

Changying remained silent, still in pain, but she harbored no resentment.

It was as if all her bitterness and resentment had been exhausted during the conflict a century ago. If her consciousness had not been tainted by devil blood, if she had remembered all her past lives upon hatching, perhaps she wouldn’t have felt so easily aggrieved back then.

Zhuyou did not approach her. Clutching the wisp of soul, she raised a barrier with one hand, shielding herself from the divine light falling from the sky.

Changying held her head, unable to look up for a long time. A low groan escaped her throat. 

She was in agony. The pain of having her spiritual soul torn apart was worse than the chronic pain she had endured in her organs as a child.

Zhuyou dared not look at her directly. She bit her lower lip, her gaze wavering.

Changying nearly shut her eyes completely, but when she lifted her eyelids, she glared fiercely at the Vermillion Phoenix, who had fallen into devilhood, her gaze icy and pained.

The drop of blood in Zhuyou’s chest had completely cooled, freezing her to the point of near unconsciousness, just like the day it had first been exchanged.

She had never intended to take out her resentment toward the heavens on Changying. What fault did Changying have? But… at this critical juncture, how could she let go?

“Take me out,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest, each word feeling like a stab to her heart.

Changying immediately looked up, her gaze sharp as she darted toward Zhuyou, pressing two fingers against her wrist.

Zhuyou knew Changying would not allow her to take this soul out, but she also knew Changying would not harm her.

With her devilish thoughts rising, she became even more reckless, shoving all her regrets deep into her heart. “Take me out,” she repeated.

Changying’s fingers still gripped Zhuyou’s wrist. The pain in her skull was unbearable, the agony of her torn spiritual soul lingering, as if rooted in her bones. Her golden eyes narrowed, her gaze both scrutinizing and questioning.

Because Zhuyou’s devilish thoughts persisted, Changying’s heart felt as though it were being corroded by devilish energy, nearly giving rise to delusions.

She knew Zhuyou was not meant to be like this. She should have been basking in divine light high in the heavens, wielding unparalleled spiritual power, and…

She should never have had to ask how to escape a mere Turbid Mirror.

Karma intertwined. Since Zhuyou could not return to the heavens, Changying herself nearly fell into the quagmire of delusion.

Changying clenched her teeth. Upon returning to the heavens, her seven po souls had been fully restored, but now it was damaged again. It felt as though both the hun and po souls might scatter to the winds.

Her gaze darkened. She thought to herself that she and Zhuyou were bound by fortune and misfortune. If she lost any of her souls, would Zhuyou also suffer the calamity of an incomplete soul?

Would Zhuyou reach the pinnacle of enlightenment after leaving the Turbid Mirror?

Would she?

Changying didn’t know. She didn’t know if this counted as Zhuyou enduring a trial. If it did, then that would be good.

She had personally brought Zhuyou into the Turbid Mirror to prevent her from being trapped and having her hun or po soul damaged. Yet, even after entering, something had still gone wrong—only this time, it was Changying who had suffered.

Changying tightened her grip on Zhuyou’s wrist, forcefully raising the hand that clutched the Devil Lord’s soul. Her strength was so great it seemed she might snap the slender wrist.

She released her clenched teeth. Though she was in unbearable pain, her voice was eerily calm. “If the Devil Lord returns, the human world will be the first to suffer, becoming a living hell.”

Zhuyou, seeing that Changying intended to seize the soul, struck out with a palm aimed at Changying’s chest.

The devil and the dragon were so close that Changying had no way to dodge. She took the blow head-on, blood immediately spurting from her mouth.

Yet Changying did not release her grip. Her eyes flickered slightly, her pale lips now stained crimson, adding a touch of color to her otherwise plain face.

“What does it have to do with me?” Zhuyou paused, taking a slow breath. “What does it matter?”

Such words from a devil should have been unsurprising, but Changying stubbornly believed that Zhuyou was never meant to be a devil.

“If I truly intend to take this soul out of the Turbid Mirror, what will you do?” Zhuyou raised her eyes, meeting Changying’s gaze.

Changying, overwhelmed by pain, was now in a daze. She thought to herself, what would she do? She could not disregard the Three Realms. If the Devil Lord truly awakened, she would simply kill him again.

Zhuyou’s heart grew cold. She turned her head away, unwilling to look at Changying any longer. Seeing Changying’s shoulders trembling in pain, she felt as though her own heart were being sliced open.

Changying did not respond. Her fingers had already turned Zhuyou’s hand red. She tilted her head back slightly, as if wanting to cry out, but her teeth remained clenched, her neck taut, appearing fragile.

Zhuyou clutched the wisp of soul, struggling internally. “You—”

Before she could finish, Changying suddenly transformed into her dragon form. Her massive claws seized Zhuyou, dragging her into the sea.

The Obsidian Dragon fell from the sky, crashing into the water. The waves surged toward the sun, but before they could even touch the clouds, they fell back into the sea.

With a thunderous roar, the sunlight that had once illuminated the sea with a sapphire glow was now nearly eclipsed by the massive shadow filling the water.

The darkness grew thicker as they sank deeper.

Zhuyou was trapped within the dragon’s claws. She could have broken free, but she chose not to. Her heart ached with a bitterness she couldn’t swallow or exhale.

Since falling into devilhood, she hadn’t felt such sorrow in a long time, and she wasn’t sure if this was what heartache truly felt like.

This dragon, now a Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens, seemed so fragile, as if she could be torn apart like a sheet of paper.

As they plunged into the sea, the cold enveloped her, reminiscent of her first descent into Cold Eye. But this time, a dragon shielded her from the icy currents.

Changying sank to the depths of Cold Eye, crashing heavily onto the barren, oat-covered ground.

Fortunately, Cold Eye was not as fragile as Shenhua Mountain. It didn’t crack into jagged ravines upon impact.

When she hit the ground, Changying released her claws and lay sprawled, motionless, as if lifeless.

***

Zhuyou crawled out from the dragon’s grasp and looked up. Above, fish and shrimp swam freely, the seawater as clear as jade.

After all this, they had returned to Cold Eye, but now it was a thousand years in the past.

Beside her, the dragon lay still, her massive head resting on the ground, golden eyes tightly shut, her breathing ragged.

A century ago, Zhuyou had deliberately straightened this dragon and placed her by her side. Now, the dragon had done it herself.

Changying’s eyes remained closed, her skull still feeling as though it were being sawed apart. Yet, she feared the devil beside her might vanish at any moment. Her eyelids trembled before finally cracking open slightly.

Zhuyou stood nearby, looking down at her, as if transported back a hundred years to when Changying, as a child, had lain on the ground in agony. Back then, Zhuyou had scooped her up and gently placed her on a soft bed.

And now?

Would it be the same now?

Changying’s golden eyes flickered, half-open, as a heavy breath escaped her throat. She tried to rise, only to collapse again, flattening the wild grass beside her into a pancake.

Zhuyou clenched her fingers, securing the wisp of the Devil Lord’s soul before tucking it into her sleeve.

She glanced down at the Obsidian Dragon beside her, silent for a long time. Seeing the dragon struggle to move even an inch, she finally bent down, her emotions in turmoil, and placed her hand on the massive dragon’s head.

The dragon’s scales were rough and sharp, their edges like overlapping blades.

Changying stared at her, a low rumble emanating from her throat.

Zhuyou wanted to see if the dragon’s soul was truly injured. To her surprise, Changying offered no resistance, laying her soul bare before her.

Just as she had a century ago, Changying remained unchanged. It was as if Changying didn’t understand the treachery of a devil’s heart, showing not a hint of wariness.

Zhuyou saw Changying’s soul, dark as ink, yet distinctly different from that of a devil.

A devil’s soul, though also dark, was cunning and deceitful, often disguised to appear like any other. But Changying’s soul shimmered with a golden light, much like her black-and-gold robes, exuding an air of nobility.

It was clear to Zhuyou that Changying’s soul was indeed injured.

The Devil Lord had struck the fragment of her po soul that had been attached to the golden pearl a thousand years ago. That single sword strike had wounded her present self.

It seemed that the fragment of her po soul from a millennium ago had not been preserved intact, and now, Changying had to endure the pain of a torn soul.

Zhuyou frowned. She saw that Changying’s soul was still there, but it was thin and frail, marked with cracks. As she withdrew her hand, she realized her fingers were trembling.

She had never intended to hurt this dragon. It was only when she rushed forward that the fragment of po soul in the golden pearl faltered, giving the Devil Lord an opening.

She had once wondered why she and Changying were bound by karma. Now she understood—it was because of the Turbid Mirror.

Was Changying in pain? Of course she was. Otherwise, she would have been full of questions, as if her mind were brimming with unresolved doubts.

Zhuyou, who had been bending over, eventually sat down on the grass, waiting in silence. She waited, but no words of apology came.

She was lost. If someone hadn’t framed her, she wouldn’t have fallen into devilhood, and Changying wouldn’t have been hurt.

In the end, whose fault was it?

Had she been wrong?

Changying lay on the ground, her eyes fixed on Zhuyou until she could no longer keep them open. With a low groan, her long tail thrashed, slamming into the ground and shaking Cold Eye violently.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. Suddenly, her massive jaws opened, revealing sharp, glistening fangs.

Her gaping maw could have swallowed dozens of people in one bite. The slender Zhuyou before her wouldn’t even fill the gaps between her teeth.

Zhuyou frowned, her pale hand reaching out from her sleeve toward the dragon’s chest.

She wanted Changying to lift the spell shielding her heart, so she could share half the pain. But before her fingers could touch the dragon’s sharp scales, a gust of breath from Changying’s open jaws sent her stumbling back.

The force pushed her several feet away.

Changying threw her head back and roared, the sound reverberating in Zhuyou’s ears.

Zhuyou climbed to her feet, raising her hand to block the fierce wind rushing toward her.

But when the wind reached her, it softened, as gentle as a spring breeze, incapable of harming her.

“Lift the spell,” Zhuyou called out. “Your po soul is riddled with cracks. Let me bear this pain for you.” Her silver hair whipped wildly in the wind, her sleeves billowing like mist.

Changying’s tail continued to thrash, her claws digging deep grooves into the ground.

Zhuyou took a step forward against the wind, her robes clinging to her body, even outlining her slender legs.

Changying’s golden eyes flickered open and shut, her roars ceasing. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Don’t come closer. If I lose control, I won’t be able to protect you.”

(T/N: All these mentions of souls—hun this, po that—must’ve gotten some of you confused, not including the times I typed the terms differently, possibly giving it a totally different meaning—fragments of po soul, [X amount] of po souls, and so on. I’m here to clarify some things. Each person has three hun souls and seven po souls. Each of the souls is responsible for certain aspects that make a human [emotion, movement, intelligence, etc.], so losing a part might cause some deficiency. The fool in Shenhua Mountain and young Jingyi seemed emotionally stunted because they’re only made of a single hun soul. Jingyi, however, later redeveloped the rest of her own huns and pos after stealing Zhuyou’s Burning-Heart Wood. Even Changying still doesn’t know how a single Burning-Heart can do that, and it is the reason why she questioned how many consciousness will the Devil Lord have once all his huns are collected, since a single hun [that is Jingyi] has developed its own huns and pos.)