The flames of hell rose higher than mountains, curling into spires of screaming crimson. The ground beneath Lu Gao’s feet was ash and shattered bone, shifting with every trembling step he took. The air was thick with sulfur, burning his lungs as he stumbled forward, naked and broken. Chains dragged across the ground, wrapping themselves around his arms and legs, pulling him down until he knelt. Before him loomed a dark knight clad in iron so black that no light could escape it. His helm was a cage of thorns, and in his hand was a blade that dripped blood without end.
“Lu Gao,” the knight’s voice thundered, reverberating in the pit like a cruel hymn, “your body is gone, your comrades are gone, and your soul belongs to me. Surrender, and I shall grant you release.”
Pain lanced through him like fire spreading through his veins. He could not tell if it was dream or reality, only that it hurt everywhere. He screamed, clutched at his chest, but no sound came out. His vision dimmed, the knight’s presence overwhelming, when, like a distant echo, he heard voices, faint yet stubborn.
“Don’t you dare give up.”
“Disciple, I am here with you.”
The knight raised his blade, but the voices clawed him back into fleeting lucidity. The fire faded, replaced by shadow and silence. Sometimes he would wake briefly, finding Yuen Fu’s steady hands patching him up or Ye Yong’s sharp voice commanding him to keep breathing. Other times, he didn’t wake at all and only drifted in the dark, their voices anchoring him, keeping him from being swallowed.
After what felt like an eternity, Lu Gao finally opened his eyes to the aching clarity of the waking world. His body felt like splintered glass, every limb screaming in protest. He blinked, finding himself not in hell, but staring into the face of a woman with long dark hair leaning over him.
His throat was dry, his words a rasp. “Xue Xin?”
The woman blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “No. It is me… Ye Yong. A Night Blade. We met in the False Earth.”
Lu Gao’s eyes adjusted, lingering on the braided strands of her hair and the sharpness of her features. He recognized her then, though his heart still twisted with the mistake. His voice cracked as he asked, “Where’s Yuen Fu?”
“He was taken away,” Ye Yong answered without hesitation, her gaze fixed ahead.
It was only then that Lu Gao noticed they were no longer in the hut he vaguely recalled. He was lying in the back of a wagon, wrapped in blankets that stank faintly of herbs, while Ye Yong sat at the reins, guiding a horse through an uneven path. The world outside looked blurred by time itself.
“Taken?” Lu Gao’s voice grew hoarse. “By whom?”
“A group of soldiers,” Ye Yong said firmly. “A month ago.”
Lu Gao’s heart sank. “How long… how long have I been ?”
“Three months,” she replied softly.
He let out a long, heavy sigh. The weight of it pressed down on his chest, sharper than any pain in his wounds. He struggled to rise, his muscles trembling, but Ye Yong’s voice cracked like a whip.
“Lie back. You’ll only tear yourself apart.”
“We need to get Yuen Fu back,” Lu Gao argued, his voice rising with urgency.
Ye Yong’s tone shifted, suddenly sharper, scolding in a way that felt entirely too familiar. “We will.”
Lu Gao froze, his eyes widening. That voice… Beneath the firmness, there was something deeper. Something he knew. He stared at her, his lips trembling. “Master Wei?”
Ye Yong’s lips curled faintly. Her voice deepened, carrying an authority that was unmistakable. “Yes, it’s me. But we need a plan.”
A rush of excitement surged through Lu Gao’s battered frame. His face lit up despite the pain as he grinned fiercely. “Then it’s settled! We have you now… let’s just go to the capital and kick that monster’s ass!”
“No. Now is not the time.”
The wagon rocked gently along the dirt road, the horse’s hooves clattering against uneven stone. Lu Gao sat propped against a bundle of blankets, his body still aching, though his mind was clear enough now to recognize the voice that had spoken through Ye Yong.
“Why? Why now is not the time?”
“First, you need to rest,” Da Wei said evenly, his tone brooking no argument. “To improve our chances, we will need to rescue Jue Bu. Since the enemy has mistaken him for me, they intend to use him as a bargaining chip for the Heavenly Temple. That means Jue Bu should still be alive.”
Lu Gao’s heart quickened. His hands clenched into fists as he struggled to sit straighter. “Then what are we waiting for? We should go!”
Da Wei’s voice deepened with grim weight. “I am not invincible, my dear disciple. In the state I am now, I cannot defeat Lei Jia. Perhaps if I could bring my main body here, the outcome would be different. But the dome that traps this land bars me from doing just that.”
Lu Gao’s expression shifted from eagerness to disbelief. He shook his head, his brows furrowing. “No way… but you are Da Wei. You are the strongest.”
For a long moment, silence hung between them. Da Wei’s eyes did not meet his, fixed instead on the horizon as he urged the horse to a faster pace. The wagon creaked as the wheels struck a rut.
Lu Gao lowered his head, shame welling in his chest. His voice dropped into a soft murmur. “Apologies, Master. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”
“No,” Da Wei said, his voice carrying the faintest trace of weariness. “It is fine. You have every right to be angry. I was not there when you needed me most.”
The horse slowed as Da Wei tugged the reins, bringing the wagon to a stop beside the shadow of a tall oak. He stood, his eyes narrowing as if gauging the weight of his next decision.
“Now that you are awake,” he said, his tone sharp with purpose, “we can begin with your training.”
Lu Gao blinked, startled. “My training?”
Da Wei turned, his gaze boring into him with the authority of a master shaping a disciple’s fate. “I shall bestow to you my Hell Soul. From this moment onward, we will increase your power as much as possible. As for you, Ye Yong—”
From the same mouth, the same breath, Ye Yong’s voice emerged, calm and obedient. “Yes, my liege.” This text is hosted at NoveI-Fire.ɴet
Lu Gao’s pulse hammered in his ears. The words “Hell Soul” burned in his mind, carrying with them the weight of both promise and dread.
The air grew heavy, suffocating in its weight. Deep inside, where his dantian had always carried the lingering traces of corrupted energy from his time cultivating through forbidden means, a stirring began. That hell energy, long chained and suppressed, writhed now like snakes awakened by fire.
Lu Gao clutched his chest, gasping. The sensation was overwhelming, not simply pain, but recognition. The black embers of his corrupted cultivation flared as if greeting an emperor returned from exile. He could feel his own sins, his flaws, and his ambitions all rising to the surface, all hungry for something greater.
Darkness unfurled within him. A sun not of light, but of flame and shadow, opened at the core of his soul. Its brilliance was terrible to behold; its warmth was not comfort, but judgment. He cried out, his body convulsing, as the remnant energy fused and coiled, drawn into the shape of something vast.
His vision blurred. The trees, the wagon, even Ye Yong’s face dissolved into smears of color. What remained was only the weight pressing against his soul, burning through every boundary.
The words did not come from outside. They resonated within him, thundering against the walls of his consciousness.
Lu Gao’s mind strained, his will pushing back against the tide.
“I am what he has given you,” the voice whispered, sharp as a blade yet heavy as iron chains. I am the Hell Soul. You cultivated my embers without knowing, and now you will carry me whole. Through me, you will rise… or you will burn away like all the rest.”
Lu Gao tried to scream, but the sound never left his throat. His body was no longer his. The darkness bled through his veins, his heartbeat a drum for something older, fiercer.
The world bent around me in reverence and fear, for I had awakened again, not as Da Wei’s shadow, but as his Hell Soul incarnate.
“Now, let’s get this over with.”
I controlled the spilling power carefully, though it clawed to devour everything in reach. The wagon’s roof cracked and burned as crimson flames erupted from me, wild and ravenous. The fire shed feathers darker than night, while purple sparks rained down in showers of embers, scorching the earth. I reined it back, forcing the storm into stillness, until the air hummed with restrained ruin. Then, through the hush, I felt him… my progenitor. Da Wei’s will brushed against mine, a tether of command and trust. “Take care of him,” he said. I tugged at his words, binding them to my essence, and gave my reply. “I will.” His presence receded, leaving only a promise. “When the curtains fall and the time to fight has come, I will be there.”
I turned my gaze to Ye Yong, who stood silent but steady. “You know what to do.” Her eyes hardened, acknowledging her role. I did not linger. My wings flared wide, and I fled into the sky. Each beat drove me higher, faster, the world below blurring as Zealot’s Stride surged through me. Flames curled in my wake as Lu Gao’s voice rose within me, uncertain but unafraid. “What are we going to do? Train? How?”
“The progenitor wishes to make you a stronger vessel,” I answered. “To achieve this, you must undergo divine transformation. Know this truth… Da Wei can enact such a thing only six times across his eternal lifetimes, each transformation tied to the six paths of reincarnation. Of them, I am Hell.”
I suspended myself in the heavens, weaving crude formation arrays from quintessence. They were not perfect, nor designed for combat, only a veil to keep our presence hidden. My wings folded inward, enclosing us in a cocoon of black feathers that drank the light. The air thickened, heavy with the weight of my origin.
“In order for this to work,” I said, “I will need your consent.”
“Yes,” Lu Gao replied without hesitation.
“I am not finished.” My voice deepened, pressing into his soul. “You must accept with full knowledge of what this means. From this moment onward, you will no longer be only ‘you.’ Your fate will be bound forever to the existence of the Great Guard. Accepting this pact means you will inherit lifetimes of memory… hells within hells. You will endure suffering not your own, yet borne as if it were carved into your flesh. Some visions will have no reason, no logic, and no mercy. You must survive them all. Hell does not kill. Hell preserves. Hell is eternal.”
A mirage of Lu Gao’s soul emerged before me, radiant yet trembling, the shape of his will made flesh. His eyes did not waver as he answered solemnly, “I accept.”
We pressed our foreheads together. Darkness surged. My feathers burst outward, blotting the heavens, until the world itself was reduced to a single blaze of devouring fire. Flames swallowed sky, earth, and time alike, collapsing into silence. There was no light left. Only eternal darkness.