As Xiao True Person performed his ritual, Hou Niao felt an inexplicable force surround him and then carry him up into the sky!
He had never imagined he would fly one day. To have a power belonging only to immortals manifest in him was truly incredible-with just one exception: he seemed unable to control his body completely.
As he rose higher and higher, he drew his gaze away from the white clouds and looked down, only to discover, to his astonishment, that his body remained where it had been! Not just his, either, but everyone else's!
He understood in an instant. Was this Divine Soul Leaving the Body? Or Spiritual Root Leaving the Body?
Even as bold as he was, he could not help worrying: if he drifted away like this, could his consciousness return to his body? If it could not, was that one of the purposes of the prayer-to eliminate cultivators like them who killed indiscriminately?
His limited knowledge could not help him reach an accurate judgment. Though riches and honor were sought amid danger, only when real danger arrived did he discover that he had no power whatsoever to resist.
There was no time to experience this passive flight, for he soon plunged into darkness. Everything around him was pitch-black; only a dozen or so glittering human shapes floated together-the dozen or so sacrifices that they were, with no idea where they had ended up.
For every one of them, this was a first. No one knew how best to respond, so they could only rely on their own instincts.
One of the figures drifted toward him, panic on his face. "Young Friend Hou, you don't mind if I stay with you, do you? This lonely chill frightens an old man like me a little..."
It was Old Man Baoshi, the only person Hou Niao knew among these criminals. He said nothing, merely watching quietly as the old man approached and floated beside him.
He was not worried. He believed that, before such mighty power, any foul play would have nowhere to hide. Perhaps the old man really was afraid? His own cultivation realm was indeed very low, but Old Man Baoshi's Foundation Cultivation realm was not much higher, and qualities such as willpower and courage were innate.
Before he had time to think further, he felt pillars of light suddenly descend upon them. Nineteen pillars enveloped them, one per person. With no attention to spare for anyone else, he could only focus entirely on his own pillar of light!
He heard what seemed to be a voice from the Unseen. "Were Heaven-bestowed Spiritual Roots granted so that you might do evil?"
Hou Niao stood tall, his eyes wide with fury. He did not know how to resist. He had neither a handy weapon or Law Treasure nor any familiar Law Techniques or Law Artifacts-nothing but his two fists!
He punched out fiercely and roared, "I don't care who you are! With blind eyes and a clouded heart, what right have you to mete out punishment on Heaven's behalf?"
He had no expectation that his punch could drive back the pillar of light. A lowly cultivator scarcely different from a mortal simply could not compare with an immortal's mighty power.
Yet he had to throw that punch. It was his right! He had the right to vent his anger, and no one-not even the ruler of this world-could stop him!
To his surprise, however, that immensely powerful pillar of light really did retreat before his fist. It certainly could not have been because of his strength. Could it have been that indomitable will?
He had killed, and killed quite a few people, but he had never wrongfully killed a single one. That was where he found the courage to throw his punch!
What he did not know was that, of the nineteen people, only two, himself included, had the confidence to resist. The others could not even make a gesture of resistance. This had nothing to do with cultivation realm, only with what they had done throughout their lives!
It all happened in an exceptionally brief moment, coming inexplicably and departing just as inexplicably. The pillars of light vanished, and he could see the others again. Like him, they seemed to be falling.
There had been none of the judgment he had imagined, no enumeration of their crimes. Presumably, cultivators at their level were not worth a second glance to immortals; a wave of the hand was enough to dispose of the matter.
Was that it? Then what exactly happened to me? Can I still return to my body? Has my spiritual root been stripped away? How are the others?
At least for now, everyone seemed fine, just as they had been when they arrived. No one had vanished into smoke in midair, had they?
While he was still fretting over this, Old Man Baoshi beside him seized his hand. "That bright light was truly vicious! It nearly refined this old man away! How did it feel to you, Young Friend Hou?"
Without waiting for an answer, he leaned straight toward him. His already faint, insubstantial figure was about to overlap Hou Niao's!
Without hesitation, Hou Niao reached forward and caught a flickering, barely visible ghostly flame inside Old Man Baoshi's body. He understood no profound principles, but at this moment, in this situation, he knew that this was the lifeline Old Man Baoshi prized above all else!
Old Man Baoshi was clearly at the Foundation Cultivation realm, an accomplished cultivator towering high above him by comparison. Yet, unexpectedly, Hou Niao had seized his lifeline with ease, leaving his life hanging by a thread!
"Why are you doing this, Young Friend Hou? When have I ever offended you, that you would harm me so?"
Hou Niao watched him coldly. "Has your spiritual root been erased? Is that why you've become so weak?"
Old Man Baoshi dared not struggle. In this mysterious environment, his soul and root were the two cornerstones of his existence. Now his root was gone, but his soul remained-only to be held at another's mercy, with life and death hinging on a thought from this boy.
"Young Friend Hou, this is a misunderstanding! If you don't wish to help me, could I move farther away?"
Hou Niao remained unmoved. "If I'm not mistaken, you were trying to seize the opportunity to steal my soul, like a cuckoo taking over a magpie's nest? You certainly chose your moment well. The mighty power has departed, the outcome is settled, and we haven't yet returned to our bodies-precisely when no one would notice you?"
Old Man Baoshi felt the hand gripping his soul tighten further and further. Knowing that his scheme had been exposed, and that continuing to argue would probably bring him nothing good, he decided he might as well humble himself. Perhaps he could still save his life.
"My young friend, this old man let lard cloud his heart and lost his senses for a moment! From our usual dealings, I knew you were upright and impartial, with a good chance of preserving your spiritual root. That was why I resorted to this wretched measure.
"Much of what I told you before was a lie. The reason I approached these people awaiting punishment was to find someone lucky enough to retain their spiritual root. They were all seasoned and experienced; only you were unfamiliar with the secrets of cultivation...
"My young friend, I was wrong! Considering that this old man's remaining years flicker like a candle in the wind, with little time left to live, please forgive me!"
Hou Niao gave a derisive smile. "Someone who keeps doing wrong isn't making mistakes, because that's simply the kind of person you are!
"Anyone who forgives you is the sick one! If I forgave everything, wouldn't that mean I deserved every hardship I've endured?"
He tightened his hand. "Remember: under the law, Fufeng Criminal Investigation never bargains, never forgives, and never compromises!"
Old Man Baoshi's soul flame twisted and scattered beneath his grip as unwilling wails escaped his mouth. With the soul flame gone, his figure also vanished without a trace, making him the first of the nineteen sacrifices to offer himself up. Only, who exactly had received that offering?
As the verse went:
Hardship and success alike were fate's decree; why trouble yourself with sighs?
Know only to do good deeds, and ask not what the road ahead may bring.
When winter departed, the ice must thaw; when spring arrived, the grass would grow of itself.
Look upon this truth: the Way of Heaven was plain indeed.