Chapter 11: Soul Sealing Spell
Wu Xiao remembered that one day, the sect master of Heavenly Peak Sect, his old friend Zhen YiLan, had come hurrying towards him while desperately clutching an unconscious little boy to his bosom.
His long white beard had trembled as he said that the boy’s name was Feng Qinghe and that he wanted to adopt him if he survived.
He said that due to his cultivation being stifled by a spirit-suppressing collar for years, the boy’s newly released spiritual energy was unstable and rioting throughout his body as his cultivation increased rapidly and dangerously. Zhen YiLan had never seen someone whose cultivation had the potential to rise to the tenth realm in one go. It had scared him greatly that the boy might not survive the turbulence of spiritual energy resulting from such a rapid rise.
He wanted to completely seal off the boy’s soul so that he couldn’t use spiritual energy at all. It was the only way to save his life.
Soul Sealing was a restricted art that only qualified formation weavers could cast. It was a spell cast most often on the souls of criminals.
The Order of Sentinels acted like something of a police force in the cultivation world. There were roughly two types of outcomes for most criminals that were caught by the Sentinels. The first outcome was a lifetime of imprisonment in a cell made of spirit-suppressing material. Most criminal cultivators that were sent there eventually lost their minds.
The second type was those whose crimes weren’t big enough to deserve a lifetime of imprisonment. They were jailed for a while before being released, but only after their souls were sealed. The ritual was painful beyond measure and sealed their souls so that they could never sense or use spiritual energy again. In return, they could live a free life out in the open more.
The ‘jailor’ that cast this spell held the only key to release the Soul Sealing spell. No matter how great a master a cultivator might be, it was impossible for them to release a Soul Sealing spell cast by someone else unless they personally received the key spell from the caster.
It was a brutal spell that would keep a soul locked in a void without letting even a bit of spiritual energy enter. Some of the cultivators whose souls were sealed chose to kill themselves rather than leave their soul in that void.
And Zhen YiLan wanted to cast this spell on a child?
But after constant persuasion and reasoning from Zhen YiLan, Wu Xiao reluctantly agreed, though he thought that applying such severe restrictions might as well end up killing the kid. But since he would die either way, he could at least try the option that still gave him a chance at survival.
Thankfully, Zhen YiLan also promised that when the boy came of age, he’d hand over the spell key to him, giving the boy complete control over his own restrictions.
Zhen YiLan said that the boy, Qinghe, was afraid of touch due to trauma inflicted by the same people who had collared him. The old-looking sect master had explained everything he knew about Feng Qinghe in hopes that some bit of information might be of use in saving his life.
Wu Xiao had patiently listened to that horrifying story, learning of all the things such a young boy had to go through.
To lessen the boy’s mental burden, they had tied him to a chair. It was better than being held down by another person, since being touched would only increase his suffering.
When the boy woke up, he stared uncomprehendingly at the old man who had saved him and a silver-haired man who kept shooting him glances filled with guilt. Realizing that he was tied up, he had tried to struggle free, the recent horror he had gone through still fresh in his mind. No! He did not want anyone touching him so disgustingly again!
It had broken their hearts as they realized what must be going through the boy’s mind.
“Qinghe,” Zhen YiLan tried to speak kindly despite the emotion choking him, “We are not going to hurt you. Please calm down. This is something that must be done, or you’ll die.”
But he couldn’t hear, all his attention focused on escape. After struggling for a while and finally coming to the conclusion that he couldn’t escape no matter how much he tried, Qinghe slumped down lifelessly. What was the purpose of fighting his fate? He was utterly helpless once more. He closed his eyes and turned his face away from the two people he thought would be his tormentors, soul-deep exhaustion evident on his face. He had no choice but to let these men do whatever they wanted with him.
Though Wu Xiao felt pained in his heart, his determination to somehow save this boy only grew. This way, there would at least be a chance. He might come to hate both him and Zhen YiLan for having to do this, but he might at least survive!
Slowly, Wu Xiao’s hand approached the boy’s bony chest that was barely covered by a ratty shirt. Upon contact, the boy immediately stiffened but didn’t struggle. He already knew it would be futile.
And then Wu Xiao started forming the bindings that would seal his soul.
A deep ache bloomed inside Qinghe’s chest that slowly turned to sharp pain, then vicious agony. But it didn’t stop there. The torment kept increasing in intensity until all Qinghe could do was restrain himself from crying and screaming hysterically. But even that did not last long.
Wu Xiao poured his concentration into crafting the spell, determined to do this right. He carefully wove the delicate threads together, knitting them over Qinghe’s soul. He only felt an echo of the pain the boy was experiencing and even that was enough to bring him to his knees. He couldn’t even imagine the sheer torment and agony that Qinghe was going through.
Qinghe’s back arched as his body couldn’t contain the pain anymore. His cold and expressionless mask, something he had hidden under all these years, cracked and shattered into smithereens as he wailed uncontrollably. The sharp and shrill screams resounded throughout the room, able to express only a mere fraction of the piercing pain that was causing it.
Through his palm on the boy’s chest, Wu Xiao could feel the screams reverberating through the small body. He could feel the frantic stretch and pull of the meager muscles as the boy thrashed around as if trying to escape. Wu Xiao pressed on despite the obvious pain it caused and the cries it elicited.
The boy’s throat eventually gave out, unable to keep producing sound.
Even as his body writhed in the throes of the inescapable agony, Wu Xiao continued to cast the spell. He couldn’t stop now or the result might be worse than simple death. At the side, Zhen YiLan’s lined face was twisted in anguish.
The torture finally ended after a few hours, leaving Qinghe slumped lifelessly in the chair. His eyes were wide open as if still caught in the echoes of incomprehensible pain, but his body was so still that it was uncertain whether he was still breathing. If it weren’t for the endless streams of tears rolling down from his eyes, Wu Xiao would have thought him dead.
The little boy looked like an exquisite but broken porcelain doll without the slightest will to live.
Those glassy spiritless eyes reminded him of Jing Shui in his early days, causing him to feel a deep pain in his own chest.
Though Soul Sealing was successfully cast, Wu Xiao only had to look at the boy’s lifeless expression to know that he wouldn’t survive for long. Wu Xiao’s heart ached.
Now, a different figure was superimposed over that silently crying boy who had been defeated by life’s cruelties.
It was a young man with long flowing black hair, dressed impeccably in clean white robes. Despite having to be supported, he still stood tall and graceful like a willow. His skin was flawless and had a healthy pallor. He was lightly muscled, clearly favoring agility-type martial arts. He held himself with a confidence and self-assurance reminiscent of someone who had experienced much of the world and was sure he could handle himself no matter the circumstance.
And most importantly, his eyes sparkled with sharp intelligence, liveliness and an inner strength that said he would never stay down no matter how hard life kicked him. He was someone who had the strength to get back up again and again, to brush the dust off his clothes and keep going.
He was no longer a broken doll.
Wu Xiao’s voice was choked with emotion as he said, “Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t think you’d survive such severe restrictions for so long.”
“I’m glad to have disappointed you in this aspect, Sect Master Wu,” the boy said in a clear and pleasant tone. There was not even a hint of the hatred and fear Wu Xiao had expected.
At the side, the others just watched with wide eyes as these two continued to talk about things they didn’t understand.
“It seems the restrictions are malfunctioning?” Wu Xiao queried after examining the Soul Sealing spell.
“If you call this a malfunction, then yes, it has been malfunctioning for quite a while,” Qinghe replied in a calm tone.
Wu Xiao was shocked.
“What is the nature of the malfunction?” he asked with urgency. He had to fix this before it hurt his soul.
“It’s nothing major, just a bit of spiritual energy leakage,” Qinghe replied, still unruffled.
Wu Xiao couldn’t believe his own ears. As the crafter of the spell, he knew that there were no loopholes that might allow this—which meant that the spiritual power must have overflowed so much that it had torn holes in the spell.
It was unbelievable.
The sheer amount of power it must have taken to tear his carefully crafted spell apart was mind-boggling, and the staggering amount of willpower needed to channel this power so that it not only wouldn’t run amok, but also wouldn’t destroy the rest of the restrictions on his soul, was inconceivable.
Finally realizing that Qinghe was wearing cultivator robes and that he was, in fact, a cultivator, Wu Xiao’s mouth dropped open.
“It’s impossible…” he whispered.