Soul Skill, Memory Kill! (Fourth White Soul Ring)

The sun had already dipped toward the west, its light slanting through the gaps in the canopy and casting long, luminous pillars across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of pine resin and decaying leaves, a stifling mixture that felt astringent when drawn into the throat.

Time was running out.

Illusion Bell still needed two more soul rings to complete its five-ring set. Qin Chuan quickened his pace, his figure flickering through the woods. With his toes brushing against tree trunks and rocks, he moved with such speed that the birds on the branches didn't even have time to be startled before he had already passed.

In the outer reaches of the Star Dou Great Forest, the soul beasts were generally of low rank; century-level beasts were the most common, with the occasional millennium-level beast appearing only rarely.

Qin Chuan swept through the area, his mind constantly calculating.

For the fourth soul ring of Illusion Bell, he had a very clear objective. The first three soul skills—Shadow Hypnosis for relaxation, Sinful Haze for infiltration, and Flowers Falling in a Dream for striking at mental defenses—already allowed him to handle the vast majority of targets when used in tandem.

But one thing was still missing.

Memory.

Where was the most vulnerable point in a person's mental defense?

Qin Chuan had figured this out during his three years in the Underground Temple. The answer was simple: the past.

Everyone had things in their hearts they were unwilling to look back upon. The beatings endured in childhood, the loss of loved ones, the mistakes made, the regrets that could never be spoken aloud. These things were usually buried at the very bottom of one's memory, not easily unearthed.

But what if someone could forcibly drag those memories to the surface?

That kind of impact was more ferocious than any direct mental attack.

Qin Chuan walked for about twenty minutes until he reached an open grassy patch in the woods. In the center of the clearing grew a cluster of waist-high shrubs, covered in thumb-sized purple flowers.

Qin Chuan stopped in front of the bushes, and his Six Paths Reincarnation Eye activated silently.

Purple patterns swirled within his pupils, and Qin Chuan's vision instantly pierced through the dense leaves of the shrubbery.

Right on the branch where the flowers were thickest, a butterfly was resting quietly.

Its wings were folded, spanning about twenty centimeters. The color of the wing surface was peculiar—not a single tone, but a blend of several colors: purple, blue, and pink, swirling together in circles like watercolor paint diffusing on the surface of water.

In the center of each wing was a circular pattern.

The shape of those patterns looked exactly like a pair of eyes.

The pupils were deep purple, the outer rings were light blue, and the outermost edges were pale pink. From a distance, it looked like two beauties' eyes were embedded in the wings, watching you silently.

[Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly].

The corners of Qin Chuan's mouth twitched.

He had seen this soul beast in Teacher Yu Xiaogang's notes.

Although Teacher Yu Xiaogang lacked personal strength, his attainments in soul beast taxonomy were truly at the top level on the continent. His manuscripts recorded thousands of rare soul beasts, including this Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly.

The notes were very clear: Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly, insect-type soul beast, feeds only on the pollen of the immortal herb of the same name, the "Lovesickness Heartbreak Flower." Maximum age does not exceed 99 years. No combat ability, no defensive ability, average flight speed. Innate soul skill: Memory Kill.

The three characters for [Memory Kill] had been circled three times by Yu Xiaogang with cinnabar ink.

Next to it was a small annotation: "This soul skill can forcibly awaken a target's deepest memories; the mental attack effect is extremely strong, far exceeding soul beasts of the same level. A pity the age is too low, so no one takes interest."

No one takes interest.

Yu Xiaogang, you certainly hit the nail on the head with those four words.

Combat-type soul masters looked down on white soul rings under a century old, considering them shameful. Support-type soul masters wouldn't choose such an obscure soul beast either. Thus, the Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly had become one of the most overlooked soul beasts on the continent.

Yet, it was exactly what Qin Chuan needed.

The logic for choosing soul rings for a life-type martial soul was completely different from that of a combat-type. Combat-types looked at age—the higher the age, the greater the power of the soul skill. Life-types looked at special effects; the innate abilities of the soul beast were the core.

Qin Chuan stepped into the bushes, pushing aside the thorny branches, and approached the butterfly resting on the flower stem step by step.

The thorns of the shrub scratched the back of his hand, leaving several shallow white marks. Purple pollen clung to his black robes, staining his sleeves in patches.

When he was three meters away, the Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly woke up.

Its wings slowly unfolded, and those two "beauty eye" patterns flashed in the sunlight.

Qin Chuan could feel its panic. This butterfly had strong mental perception; although its body was pitifully weak, its sensitivity to danger far exceeded that of ordinary soul beasts.

It flapped its wings, trying to fly.

Qin Chuan didn't give it the chance.

He reached out his right hand and pinched the base of its wings with his fingers.

The wings fluttered twice between his fingers, the wind they stirred carrying a stifling, pollen-heavy scent. That layer of colorful scales coated Qin Chuan's fingertips, feeling greasy to the touch.

"Don't struggle," Qin Chuan said in a low voice.

The Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly ceased its struggle.

Then, it activated its soul skill.

Qin Chuan's brain suddenly "buzzed," and the Star Dou Great Forest before his eyes vanished. The bushes disappeared, the butterfly in his hand vanished, and all sound faded away.

In their place was a gray, hazy, and blurred scene.

Qin Chuan knew this was the Lovesickness Heartbreak Butterfly's soul skill, Memory Kill. It was forcibly awakening his deepest memories.

He did not resist.

He had also intentionally refrained from blocking his previous soul skill, Flowers Falling in a Dream, just to experience its effects. This time was no different. He wanted to know exactly what Memory Kill was capable of.

The image gradually became clear.

A dozen years ago.

Heaven Dou Empire, Tianshui City, Yuze Village.

Inside a dilapidated house with earthen walls and a thatched roof, a water stain leaked from the ceiling in the corner. It dried and dampened, dried and dampened again, leaving behind concentric circles of yellow marks.

The room was tiny, containing only a wooden plank bed covered with a layer of straw, over which lay a piece of coarse cloth washed until it had turned white.

Qin Chuan saw himself—himself in swaddling clothes.

A thin, small infant, wrapped in a gray rag covered in patches, lay on the pile of straw. His mouth opened and closed, emitting a faint, thin cry.

That cry was so weak, as soft as the mewling of a cat.

Qin Chuan's chest began to tighten as the scene continued to push forward.

A young woman picked him up and brought him to her chest. Qin Chuan felt warmth. That warmth traveled from his mouth to his throat, then down into his belly, enveloping his entire body.

It was the first drop of milk he had ever tasted in this life, but the warmth lasted only a short while.

Then, it was gone.

The image flickered.

Qin Chuan saw that young woman lying on the dirt floor by the doorway, with a man beside her; both were motionless. There was something dark red on the ground, seeping into the soil.

The infant's crying echoed in the room for a long time, but no one came.

The image skipped again.

An old man with a face full of wrinkles picked the infant up from the straw pile. The old man's hands were rough, his fingers covered in calluses, and his posture while holding the child was incredibly clumsy, yet his movements were very careful.

It was the old village chief, Boen.

"Poor little one." The old man's voice was hoarse, as if he had sand stuck in his throat.

The bridge of Qin Chuan's nose began to sting.

The images continued to race by. The speed increased, flipping forward frame by frame, as if someone were frantically leafing through an old photo album.