Guiding Departed Souls

Qian Anci slowly withdrew the Dragon Claw.

The middle-aged man's body stiffened in place, blood gushing from the hole in his chest, only to be disintegrated by death energy before it could even hit the ground.

He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but only a rattling "he-he" sound emerged.

The vitality in his eyes faded rapidly, eventually turning into a dull, ashen gray.

Qian Anci retracted his dragon transformation, the scales on his arms slowly fading from sight.

He looked down at his own palms, the sensation of warmth still lingering at his fingertips.

This was his first time killing a person.

There was no discomfort as he had imagined, only a strange, hollow void.

It was as if something deep within his soul had quietly loosened.

"Anci."

Castorice's voice resonated in the depths of his soul, carrying a hint of a gentle sigh.

"You did well."

Qian Anci did not answer.

He turned to look at the children entangled by the vines, his pupils suddenly contracting.

Having lost the soul power maintenance of the middle-aged man, those black vines were frantically draining the children's final remnants of vitality.

More than a dozen small bodies twitched in the air, their complexions turning ashen at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"No..."

Qian Anci's figure flashed, the Scythe of Death swinging out to sever the vines.

The children fell like puppets with their strings cut.

He caught the nearest one, a girl of about seven or eight years old, a small silver bell tied to her wrist.

It was A Shi's younger sister, Xiao Tang.

The girl's eyes were half-open, her pupils already unfocused.

She looked at Qian Anci, her lips moving slightly as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, no sound came out.

That small hand fell limply, the silver bell emitting a soft chime.

Qian Anci froze in place.

He felt the temperature in his palm fading rapidly.

The children he had just saved.

Their breaths were all gradually disappearing.

The parasitism of the Soul-Devouring Vine was too thorough; once the middle-aged man died, the vines went berserk, draining their life force dry.

"Your Highness..."

Ya Yi's voice came from behind, carrying a trace of heaviness.

"They... are beyond saving."

Qian Anci looked down at Xiao Tang's ashen face.

Those eyes were still half-open, as if looking toward some place he could not reach.

A Shi stumbled in, and upon seeing this scene, he was struck as if by lightning.

"Xiao Tang..."

He threw himself to his knees, trembling as he took his sister's remains, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Xiao Tang... Big brother is late... Big brother is late..."

Qian Anci slowly stood up.

He looked at the dozen or so small bodies lying across the cave, at A Shi's broken sobbing, and at Ya Yi's silent back.

Something cold surged from the bottom of his heart.

"Castorice."

He called out softly in his heart, his voice hoarse.

"Can I... save them?"

A brief silence.

Castorice's voice sounded, carrying a hint of gravity, yet also an emotion he could not understand.

"Anci, their physical bodies are dead, but their souls have not yet fully dissipated."

"The authority of the Underworld can ferry the departed souls."

"But you must think clearly—"

"Ferrying souls means you will become their ferryman. Their souls will belong to your Underworld, rather than the cycle of this world."

Qian Anci's eyes flickered with a grey radiance.

"Then... can they still be reincarnated?"

"They can." Castorice's voice was soft. "It is just that they will slumber in the Underworld until you are strong enough—strong enough to replace the cycle of reincarnation for this world."

"Or..."

She paused. "You can let them exist in another form. As Ferrymen of the Underworld, guardians of the dead."

"Anci, empty your mind and lend me your body."

Qian Anci slowly raised his right hand.

The Scythe of Death coalesced in his palm, grey-white death energy swirling around it like a thin mist.

Three soul rings rose from beneath his feet: purple, black, black.

The third soul ring lit up with a dim, somber glow.

[Yellow Springs Ferry]

But this time, he did not strike at an enemy.

The blade of the scythe sliced through the void, and the grey-white death energy spread like a tide—not to erode, but to... envelop.

A grey-white gate of light slowly took shape in the center of the cavern.

Behind the gate lay that familiar Underworld Wasteland.

A lead-grey sky, a cracked and pallid earth, and grey mists churning without end.

"This is..."

Ya Yi's pupils constricted, and he instinctively took half a step back.

The aura emanating from that gate of light made even him, a Soul Douluo, feel his soul tremble.

Qian Anci offered no explanation.

He simply walked slowly toward the remains of the children, the Scythe of Death gently touching their brows.

"In my name, I ferry the departed souls."

His voice was soft, yet it carried a majesty that pierced through life and death.

"Upon the path of the Underworld, there is neither life nor death, only the journey home."

A pale purple light bloomed from the blade of the scythe, enveloping Xiao Tang's body.

The girl's remains gradually dissolved into motes of light, and a translucent figure slowly rose from the radiance.

It was Xiao Tang's soul.

She looked even paler and more transparent than she had in life, yet her eyes were clear and bright.

She looked at Qian Anci, then at A Shi, who was kneeling on the ground, and her lips moved.

"Big brother..."

The voice was as faint as a gnat's hum, yet it reached everyone's ears with perfect clarity.

A Shi jerked his head up, staring at the translucent figure, his entire body trembling.

"Xiao Tang... Xiao Tang!"

He reached out to grab her, but his hand passed right through the phantom.

"Don't go... don't leave your big brother..."

Xiao Tang's soul drifted toward the gate of light and stopped at the threshold.

She looked back at A Shi and offered a faint smile.

"Big brother, don't be sad."

"The big brother will take care of me."

She looked at Qian Anci, her clear eyes filled with trust.

"Right, Lord Ferryman?"

The grey radiance in Qian Anci's eyes settled.

"Right."

His voice was hoarse, yet firm.

"In the Underworld, I shall keep you safe."

Xiao Tang smiled.

That smile was like the first flower to bloom on the Underworld Wasteland—pale, yet gentle.

She turned and drifted into the gate of light.

Qian Anci continued toward the next child.

One, two, three...

More than a dozen translucent souls rose amidst the grey death energy, drifting toward the gate of light.

Some were weeping, some were looking around in bewilderment, while others quietly accepted it all.

Qian Anci guided them one by one, the greyish-white radiance upon the Scythe of Death growing ever more intense.

Yet, his complexion grew increasingly pale.

Guiding the departed souls consumed his own soul power.

"Anci, that is enough."

Castorice's voice carried a hint of urgency.

"If you continue like this, you will damage your foundation!"

Qian Anci did not stop.

He walked toward the final remains, a boy of about five or six years old.

A broken vine was still embedded in the boy's chest, his state of death wretched.

"The last one."

He said to Castorice in his heart.

"Let me... finish sending them off."

The blade of the scythe lightly touched the boy's brow.

A pale purple light bloomed.

However, this time, an unexpected change occurred.

As the boy's soul rose, a flash of dark red suddenly flickered within those hollow eyes.

"Watch out!"

Castorice's cry of alarm exploded deep within his soul.

The soul suddenly twisted, transforming into a pitch-black shadow that lunged toward Qian Anci!