“Yeah, why indeed?” In response to the question, Su Cha looked at his spirit form with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and returned the question. In the end, he smiled sweetly and said, “Maybe… it’s just too mischievous.”
The autumn wind made the spirit form, which had no sense of hot or cold, shiver.
Su Cha didn’t mind it slacking off, but the fact that it was even lazier than he was made him immediately flash a gentle smile at one of the guards. “Would you mind drafting a detailed training plan for me?”
Even without the request, the guard would have done so—that was exactly their task today.
The combat capabilities of spirit forms required training. Students at the affiliated school spent half their time in combat rooms cultivating synchronization with their spirit forms.
Through data analysis, the guard quickly drafted a densely filled chart. Although the people of Fog Star lacked much experience in training spirit forms, the essence of it was similar to regular combat training.
Su Cha glanced at it. There were many technical terms he didn’t understand, like “rupture-repair forging technique” and “displacement-style sneak attack.” He was just about to ask when the guard, seeing that the prince had no other orders, had already packed up. Before leaving, he couldn’t help but glance at Su Cha a few more times.
So healthy and full of vitality—truly a gift from the will of the universe.
Su Cha was left with only one person he could ask for help.
Cyril seemed to foresee what he was about to do and waved his hand slightly: “You won’t need it. Go back and rest.”
Su Cha responded with a puzzled “Hmm?”
“What about the spirit form…”
“It stays.”
Su Cha considered a possibility. “Power leveling?”
Spirit forms usually only trusted their owners and were highly resistant to orders from others. Even if commands could force them to obey, continuous subconscious resistance could easily lead to spirit instability.
That was common knowledge—but for Su Cha, spirit instability had never been an issue.
He even suspected that the reason his spirit form was so stable wasn’t just due to his unique demon power, but because the spirit form itself was too Buddhist (passive).
Cyril nodded. “Yes. I’ll train it for you.”
Su Cha felt a little embarrassed. He really couldn’t just slack off with a clear conscience. “Then I’ll sit nearby and observe—learn a bit while I’m at it.”
“No need. If you’re here, I can’t be too harsh.”
He practically said out loud he couldn’t beat the spirit form in front of him.
Su Cha glanced at the magnolia lotus. Every petal radiated rejection. Yet Su Cha ignored its plea. If the spirit form became stronger, it meant he could save more effort.
If you can slack off, why not?
Su Cha vanished like the wind—his actions clearly showing who the spirit form had learned its laziness from.
By the time he entered the castle, the sun had completely set, leaving not even a trace of twilight. Night fell quickly.
Back at the training grounds, if the magnolia lotus could curse, it would be cursing Su Cha’s ancestors right then. Of course, Su Cha would be thrilled to have someone greet his whole clan.
The storm-like training didn’t begin on the first day as expected. Instead, Cyril sliced open his palm, letting fresh blood drip onto the petals.
The whole flower froze on the spot.
Just as it was about to relay this bizarre scene to Su Cha, Cyril suddenly bent down, placed a finger to his lips, and made a “shhh” gesture.
Just like Su Cha had once said to Fasite, “stop,” that simple, soft “shhh” instantly blocked the spirit form from transmitting any message at will.
After consuming Cyril’s blood, the spirit form would further strengthen the spirit connection between them. Cyril wanted to know—if the physical results were clearly fine, then what exactly was disturbing Su Cha, even to the point of triggering early signs of slumber?
…
Su Cha had gone to bed early but kept tossing and turning. He still couldn’t figure out how the system had planned to interfere with the soul-summoning ritual. After parting ways, he had been with Cyril the whole time—it was impossible for the system to have acted.
“Could it be magic?”
He mumbled to himself, only to suddenly realize that the curtains had been drawn open. He sat up with a jolt. “Can’t you announce yourself before showing up?”
The system sat on the windowsill, one leg bent, mechanical hand resting on its knee. It seemed to hate autumn leaves and always kept a black umbrella at its side.
“I’ve got black tech, but no magic.”
Su Cha rubbed his brow. “I can’t use Cyril as a scapegoat.”
Even if it wouldn’t cause real harm, he didn’t like it.
System: “The host shouldn’t worry about what I’ll do—because I won’t do anything.”
If someone truly cared, they’d act on their own initiative.
Su Cha, who was usually sharp, didn’t immediately pick up on the implication. He had no prior experience with things like this, and even in the past half year, when faced with concern from others, he still felt uneasy and unsure.
Just then, the spirit form returned, cloaked in utter grievance.
…D*mn it. I’ve been defiled. I’ve been polluted by someone else’s blood.
Unfortunately, because of Cyril’s “shhh,” it couldn’t communicate that.
“Seems like you’ve gotten stronger.”
Whether it was due to Cyril’s training or something else, Su Cha could feel that the spirit form’s power was now noticeably more robust. He couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow in delight. “So good things do happen.”
Do nothing and still get stronger.
The magnolia lotus looked at the smile tugging at Su Cha’s lips, then glanced over at the mysterious robot on the windowsill. It dipped a leaf in tea and wrote three characters on the table: Silly Sweet Fool.
Su Cha: “You can write?”
Spirit form: “…”
Busted.
Beating up your own spirit form—it felt a little twisted. Su Cha held back, then ground out through gritted teeth: “Can you talk?”
The petals shook emphatically: absolutely not.
Su Cha remained suspicious, but lacking evidence, had to let it go for now.
“You better hope I don’t find out.”
He didn’t really believe it—no way it would stay silent for life just from laziness. He reabsorbed the magnolia lotus into his body, and unknowingly, his demon power also became tinged with the scent of Cyril’s blood.
Not in the mood to spar with the system, and worn out from discomfort, he closed his eyes early. Hopefully, his clansmen had some sense and wouldn’t cause trouble again any time soon.
…
83 billion light-years away, on a planet inhabited by both humans and demons.
Black, eerie flames flickered around the altar.
Unlike other demons, flower demons lean more toward defense than offense in their use of demonic power. Yet the ritual currently underway was brimming with an ominous, evil air.
Su Yeling, once the pride of his clan, was now the chieftain of the flower demon tribe. At this moment, he stood in front of the altar. The mysterious disappearance of Su Cha a day before his scheduled execution had always been a thorn in his heart.
Whether out of guilt or caution, Su Yeling had never removed Su Cha’s soul lamp and memorial plaque from the ancestral hall. Seeing the extinguished flame, he would feel a fleeting moment of peace.
But not long ago, the soul lamp had shown signs of reigniting.
This bizarre phenomenon greatly heightened Su Yeling’s unease. Even though he knew no one would believe Su Cha even if he returned now and tried to explain anything, he still couldn’t bear the slightest chance of it happening.
The present was not the past; people’s thinking had opened up considerably. Recently, Su Yeling had been working hard to promote peaceful coexistence between humans and demons.
He was a single-minded man—whatever he set out to do, he had to accomplish it. If he succeeded, not only could he be with the woman he loved openly, but as the primary architect of reconciliation, his voice would carry enormous weight between the two races.
Several elders who had been keeping the altar running were already exhausted. Once Su Yeling infused it with his demonic power, the dark fire flared up again.
His power was formidable. Ever since Su Yeling came into his own, the flower demon clan had become one of the top forces. Even though the elders disapproved of his push to dissolve territory divisions between demons and humans and merge their worlds, they had never considered replacing him.
As long as the chief was strong, the flower demon tribe would stay strong.
“Otherwise, forget it,” one elder said, frowning. “It’s not worth consuming so many resources just to continue the summoning.”
Su Yeling’s jade-like fingers lightly brushed the edge of the black fire. “Su Cha not only escaped punishment back then, but survived with such heavy injuries. What if he fell into demonic corruption and has been hiding in the shadows all this time, biding his time to return for revenge? Are you planning to wait until he grows wings before reacting?”
This statement successfully deepened the elders’ sense of urgency.
Indeed, to endure this long spoke volumes about his will. If any of them had experienced what Su Cha had, they would surely seek revenge as well.
“The soul lamp’s flame is still weak, which means the soul is unstable. Now is the best time to act.”
A cold gleam flickered in Su Yeling’s eyes.
They were conducting the highest-level soul-summoning ritual, and with a demon orb as a medium, it would continue for forty-nine days. Even if he were hidden at the ends of the earth, the ritual could still call his soul back.
As long as they summoned the soul and shattered it, they could completely extinguish the threat lurking in the dark.
While Su Yeling spoke, the altar finally reacted. The flames began stretching and twisting unnaturally. Su Yeling took a small step back, the corners of his lips curling upward. “Almost there.”
Without pausing, he issued the next command: “When the time comes, strike together—make sure Su Cha is utterly obliterated.”
A buzzing vibration rang out as the altar began to tremble violently. Strangely, the demon orb showed no sign of connection to the summoning; it remained motionless on the altar, eerily still.
A faint figure began to take shape at the center of the platform. The elders gathered their demonic power in their palms, waiting for the instant the soul fully materialized—ready to strike with deadly force.
First to appear was a head of silver hair, followed by a pair of strikingly sharp eyes. Upon seeing those eyes, no one could look away—not even the always-proud Su Yeling dared meet that gaze directly.
This was definitely not Su Cha. Even if Su Cha had fallen to demonic corruption, there was no way he would have eyes like that.
Su Yeling’s expression changed. “What did you summon?!”
The elders exchanged confused glances. Whatever it was, it felt wrong. But as planned, they struck immediately.
Yet the attacks, before even getting close, were stopped by some unseen barrier in the air and rebounded violently.
Su Yeling concealed his shock—there was no trace of a boundary spell in the area. So what was it that was secretly interfering?
As it turned out, the person most in the dark was Cyril.
While asleep, he sensed something pulling at his soul and guessed the earlier ritual had worked.
Cyril’s original goal had been to strengthen his blood link and gather information from Su Cha’s dreams—but this unexpected side effect surprised him. His soul was so powerful that even in slumber, it could overlook the entire Fog Star and ensure its safety.
With total confidence, Cyril didn’t resist the pull—hence the current outcome.
Even unaware, Cyril still carried himself like the sovereign he was.
One thing was clear: Su Cha’s unrest was related to these people. That being the case—if he could fight, he would fight; if he could kill… then he would kill.
The flower demons’ precious altar couldn’t withstand Cyril’s soul power. Before his soul even fully returned, he slapped out with one hand.
The suspended energy was flung back in its entirety. Several elders staggered backward violently, coughing up blood as their own powers backfired.
The soul-summoning ritual had been meant to be secret, but the commotion now was impossible to hide—it drew attention immediately.
Thousands of translucent threads didn’t go after the elders, but instead pierced straight toward Su Yeling’s eyes.
Cyril disliked those eyes—they were too much like Su Cha’s, yet hollow and soulless, like a cheap knockoff.
Su Yeling dodged, but still got a cut on the corner of his eye.
Cyril frowned. It seemed his power was being suppressed by this world, and each strike accelerated his departure from it.
In fact, the world itself was rejecting him.
Cyril wasn’t surprised—he could tell this wasn’t a high-tier planet. Mid- and low-tier planets naturally had a kind of shield around them, like the universe’s way of protecting them. Galactic wars only ever broke out between top-tier factions.
Since his opponent was resisting with full force and he didn’t have much time, Cyril shifted his focus to the altar beneath him—it was interesting.
“Protect the altar!” Su Yeling roared, eyes bloodshot.
Several elders guarded him while he used his power to shield the platform.
So Su Yeling wanted to protect the altar? Cyril focused on smacking him instead.
They couldn’t kill him under this protection, but slapping him? That was still on the table.
In just three seconds, Su Yeling’s face was swollen.
Every time he tried to cover his face, Cyril switched to destroying the altar. Slapping people and smashing things in turn, like enjoying a balanced meal—calm and methodical.
Pa! Pa! Pa! That was the sound of slaps landing.
Szz, szz, szz. That was the sound of the altar starting to crack.
Together, they harmonized into the melody of Su Cha’s infamous line: “I really just want to live another 500 years.”
Su Yeling, always cold and prideful, had never endured such humiliation. Unable to hold back any longer, he tried to counterattack—only for Cyril to exploit an opening and smash the altar completely.
Then, he vanished from this world without a trace.
