Conflict 2

Hals watched as the man who was a Spirit Hall elder crawled wretchedly across the ground, a flicker of confusion stirring within him.

"I'm curious. How did someone like you become an elder of Spirit Hall? Just because of your strength?"

Hearing Hals's words, Yan Yu didn't stop to answer—instead, he crawled even faster. His twisted left leg dragged a long trail of blood across the floor. In his terror, he forgot to protect his fingers with soul power; the ten digits scraped raw against the ground, flesh and blood mingling. They say the fingers are connected to the heart, yet such excruciating pain couldn't wrench Yan Yu free from his fear.

Hals finally sensed something was wrong. No matter how fearsome his reputation within Spirit Hall, it shouldn't have driven an elder to such a reaction.

Soul power surged around Hals, transforming him into a wisp of black mist that shot forward swiftly, coalescing back into human form behind Yan Yu. Yan Yu seemed utterly unaware that Hals had come up behind him—an impossibility for a Spirit Saint.

Hals extended his left hand. A small flame burst to life atop it, and in an instant, his hand had transformed into a skeletal claw.

Hals leaned down, grabbing Yan Yu's head in one swift motion. His five sharp fingers pierced the scalp, scraping against bone. Applying force with his left hand, Hals slowly lifted Yan Yu off the ground, turning the man's face toward his own.

Hals clearly saw that Yan Yu's eyes were hollow, devoid of any light. Yet the man kept muttering, over and over: "Run, run..."

Hals's expression gradually turned grave. The face beneath his hood was dark and brooding. He adjusted Yan Yu's gaze slightly, aligning the man's eyes with the two flames burning in his own sockets. Then, the flames blazed and leaped violently.

He stared intently. Time ticked by, second after second. A spark kindled in Yan Yu's eyes, and in an instant, it erupted into a roaring blaze that engulfed Yan Yu's head. An invisible substance drifted out from Yan Yu's brain.

Hals opened his mouth. His throat seemed bottomless, yet within it, a tiny black hole appeared, generating a powerful suction that drew that substance into his gullet.

The flames in Hals's eyes, as if fed fresh fuel, burned even more fiercely.

Hals stood there, unmoving. A long time passed before the flames slowly dimmed, settling into a calm burn.

"So that's it... Qian Xunji..." Instead of clarity, Hals's mind grew even more chaotic. "Why would Qian Xunji order an attack on Bibi Dong? And why manipulate a Spirit Hall elder to do it? Isn't Qian Xunji's martial soul the Seraphim? How does he have the ability to control people?"

Countless questions surfaced in Hals's mind, but no answers came.

A faint sense of crisis lingered around Hals, impossible to shake.

He glanced at Yan Yu, who had already lost all signs of life, dead beyond any doubt. Hals casually tossed him aside and turned to leave...

For Shi Jisheng, this moment felt rather triumphant. Directing a host of high-level soul masters to arrest and imprison the elders of the Elder Hall—those who once stood so high and mighty now had to bow and scrape under his command. The feeling was absolutely wonderful!

Shi Jisheng stood behind a group of enforcement soul masters, putting on an air of aloof indifference as he watched the crowd, barely concealing his excitement. He was just imagining how glorious his future career would be when an enforcer suddenly appeared beside him:

"Shi Jisheng, Lord Hals wants to see you."

Who has no manners? Shouldn't they address me as "sir"? Thinking this, Shi Jisheng turned his head irritably toward the enforcer who had come to notify him—only to freeze, then hastily bow.

No wonder. The newcomer was a 69th-rank Battle Soul Emperor, also a squad leader among the enforcers, and more importantly, his direct superior.

"Yes, I'll go immediately, sir." Shi Jisheng kept his head low, his expression unreadable.

The squad leader gave Shi Jisheng a faint, cold glance. "Shi Jisheng, know your place. This is the Enforcers. And this is my turf."

"Yes, sir." Shi Jisheng bent even lower. A long time passed until no further sound came, and only then did he slowly straighten up. His eyes betrayed no emotion, but what thoughts churned in his mind, no one could know.

"Sir." Shi Jisheng rushed to Hals's presence, dropping to one knee with a tone of utmost reverence.

"Shi Jisheng." Hals turned around, the flames in his eyes fixed directly on Shi Jisheng. "Soon, His Holiness the Pope will likely summon me. I need you to make three preparations."

"Whatever you command, sir."

"First, go into hiding. If I don't come out for a long time, slip away from Spirit Hall quietly and lie low. Second, when you leave Spirit Hall, withdraw a batch of supplies from the warehouse in my name, then make it look like I fled for the sake of wealth. Third—"

Hals didn't continue. Shi Jisheng dared not lift his head to ask.

Hals let out a sigh, as if relieved. "If the sound of battle comes from the Pope's Palace, take the master and flee Spirit Hall immediately. Remember, make it look like you're forcibly abducting her away."

"Sir—" Shi Jisheng jerked his head up, a trace of panic in his eyes. "But, but I'm only a three-ringed soul master..."

"Don't worry. It won't come to that unless absolutely necessary. This is just insurance. When the time comes, I'll send someone to protect your escape." Hals turned away, silent, gazing out the window at the crimson sunset.

Shi Jisheng had already left. Hals remained standing in the room. He wanted to close his eyes, but his eyelids had long since vanished, leaving him to stare blankly...

Knock, knock.

A short, forceful knock sounded at the door. Hals glanced at it, sighed, and dissolved into a wisp of black mist, reappearing behind the person who had knocked.

"Let's go." A hoarse voice spoke. The newcomer startled, spinning around quickly. "S-sir, the Pope—"

"I know." Hals had already turned and started walking away. "I'm going now."

Only the bewildered messenger stood frozen in the corridor.

"Y-yes, sir..."

Pushing the door open, Hals cast a glance at Qian Xunji on the throne. The face that was perpetually gloomy now looked even more uncertain than usual.

Approaching Qian Xunji, Hals dropped to one knee without hesitation, kneeling neatly before him.

Seeing Hals kneel so readily, Qian Xunji's expression improved slightly.

"Hals." Qian Xunji propped his chin on his left hand, staring down at Hals. "Do you know your crime?"

"Yes, Your Servant admits guilt." Hals kept his head low, his hood completely concealing his expression.

Qian Xunji studied Hals's hooded face, an unreadable glint flickering in his eyes. "Take off the hood. Hals, do you need to hide from me as well?"

Without hesitation, Hals smoothly removed his hood, revealing his eerie face.

Qian Xunji examined Hals's face with interest. "Oh, it seems your scars have faded a bit."

"Yes."

Seeing that Qian Xunji still made no reaction, he finally got to the point.

"Hals, I heard this morning that you've been arresting Spirit Hall elders left and right. Someone even came to me to impeach you for purging dissidents."

The words exploded like thunderclaps in Hals's ears. A glimmer of understanding dawned on him—Qian Xunji was using his hand to eliminate those unruly, overactive elders within Spirit Hall, while simultaneously using their hands to eliminate him!!

Qian Xunji, still unaware that Hals had already figured out the true mastermind behind it all, continued speaking on his own...