Versatile Mage: Lord of Space

The moment Lu Kun, the Crimson Demon, crashed to the ground, three scarlet soul shadows suddenly broke free from his corpse, drifting in the air like blood-red wisps.

Lin Lan's pupils suddenly contracted, his gaze sharpened, and he instantly identified the three soul fragments in the soul shadow one by one—Lu Nian, Yu Ang, and the aura that had shaken his mind.

Three soul shadows spun and overlapped rapidly before his eyes, finally settling into a clear and unforgettable outline. Even though he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, the righteous aura belonging to the Cold Hunter King surged through his soul.

“Red Demon Lu Kun is nothing more than a puppet vessel for Red Demon Yi Qiu.” Lin Lan said in a deep voice, his fingertips turning slightly white due to the turmoil of his emotions. “He collected three soul fragments of the Evil Saint King, and the rest must be in Yi Qiu’s main body.”

At this point, Red Demon Yiqiu had long since given up any thought of advancing to the level of Evil Saint King. Ever since he was locked onto by the gaze of Archangel Sariel and glimpsed the even more perfect Red Demon form within Mo Fan, he knew that he was nothing more than a stepping stone—all of this planning was, from beginning to end, just to pave the way for Mo Fan.

But he never expected that the one who would ultimately step into the Lu family and kill Lu Kun was not Mo Fan, but Lin Lan.

The three soul shadows gradually lost their support in the air. Lu Nian and Yu Ang's soul essences dissipated like ashes in the wind. Only the Cold Hunter King's soul essence, restless due to the loss of its vessel, finally seemed to have found its home and slowly drifted towards Lin Lan. The crimson pearl light and the faint light of the evil moon intertwined in mid-air, forming a hazy cocoon of light. Within this cocoon of light, the Cold Hunter King's soul essence gradually merged with Lin Lan's body.

Visibly, Lin Lan's shoulders had grown broader, and his once slightly youthful face now bore a touch of righteousness and world-weariness. The aura surrounding him possessed both his own sharpness and the composure of the Cold Hunter King. When this half-human, half-soul figure stood quietly before Lingling, Lingling gazed at that familiar yet unfamiliar face, her eyes piercing through Lin Lan's features to clearly see the red righteous soul that completely overlapped with his.

"Lingling."

The moment the voice rang out, Lingling felt as if she had been struck by lightning, and the warmth in her fingertips vanished instantly. It was Lin Lan's voice, yet it was also wrapped in the weight of another person—lower, deeper, and more resonant, like that warm, down-to-earth voice from many years ago, gently falling into her ear.

Memories flooded her like a burst dam, instantly engulfing her. She felt as if she had returned to that night when she needed to listen to fairy tales to fall asleep: the wooden door creaked open, and a man, weathered and smelling faintly of blood, walked in. Even though his eyes held weariness and his shoulders bore fresh wounds, he would smile, reach out, and steadily lift her up, twirling the demon's inner core between his fingers with a hint of pride, saying, "Lingling, look, I've slain another menace today."

But that day, everything changed. She sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the doll her father had given her, staying up late into the night. The candle burned and went out several times, and she drifted off to sleep only to be awakened by the faint footsteps outside the door. Thinking it was her father returning, she rushed to the door, only to be met with silence. It wasn't until the morning light streamed through the window, illuminating the empty room, that she realized the person who would greet her with a smile and call her "Lingling" the moment he entered would never return.

Over the years, she has learned to make her own bed and fold her blankets, and no longer has to wait for someone to finish telling her fairy tales before she can fall asleep; she has gradually learned from recipes, from burning eggs to being able to make delicious meals, and no longer has to wait for someone to bring takeout home; she has a regular schedule, practices her magic diligently, and takes good care of herself, and has even grown to the age where she can stand on her own—but this "Lingling" is so many years late.

She had grown accustomed to life without him, and she thought she had buried her longing deep in the corner of her heart, but this soft call still shattered all her pretense in an instant. She could no longer hold back, and rushed forward, crashing into that warm embrace, her arms tightly wrapped around his waist, as if she wanted to knead all the longing and grievances of the past years into this belated hug.

It turned out she had been waiting all along. From that morning when no one came, from the day she learned to cook for herself, from every single time she faced demons alone, she never stopped. Even when everyone told her that her father had left this world, she still clung to a sliver of hope, wanting to hear him call her name one more time, wanting to hug him tightly and forcefully one more time—otherwise, how could she accept the fact that she would never see him again?
Between father and daughter, no words were needed. All the longing, regret, and grievances melted away in that embrace, unable to withstand that cry of "Lingling" that transcended life and death. Lin Lan's consciousness was not swallowed up; instead, she clearly felt the surging emotions within the Cold Hunter King's soul—not the righteous grandeur one should possess, but the tenderness and regret of a father. As the most important soul within his life soul, the Cold Hunter King should have the world in his heart, yet at this moment, the thoughts hidden within his soul were so ordinary that they were heartbreaking:
If he could do it all over again, he would never want to be a guardian spirit protecting the world. He just wanted to be an ordinary father, sitting by her bedside, telling Lingling every fairy tale; he wanted to hold her hand every day, patiently taking her to school and picking her up after class, listening to her chatter about the fun things that happened at school; he wanted to shield her from all evil before she encountered danger, reminding her to stay away from all bad things; he even wanted to watch her grow up to be seventeen or eighteen, watching her blossom into a beautiful young woman, secretly proud while also worrying that some hothead might easily deceive her…

But time never flows backward. What he missed was Lingling's entire journey from taking her first steps to becoming independent; what he missed was every moment she learned to be strong and grow up. Now she has grown up, and in the years without him, she has trodden through thorns and grown into a towering figure on her own.

The Cold Hunter King's soul trembled gently within Lin Lan's body, as if silently gazing at Lingling's face.

Although he missed her past and was destined to be separated from her future, being able to see her standing safely before him, to call her "Lingling" again, and to feel her embrace was the most complete comfort in the world for a father who had long since passed away.

He used Lin Lan's throat, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible sob, and whispered to Lin Lan beside him, "Thank you." Thank you for giving him the chance to see his daughter one more time.

"No need to thank me. You can keep me company from now on and make up for everything you owed me before." After saying that, Lin Lan began to cast a fusion magic spell, along with the totem power of Lei Shi.

The undead body is imbued with totem power; it's better explained by totem creatures.

If all else fails, we can ask the Nine Netherworld Queen for help and have the Cold Hunter King become a ghost-like being; that would be a good option.

The fusion magic Lin Lan cast emitted a dazzling light. The Cold Hunter King's soul trembled gently within the net of light, and crimson and moon-white light gradually merged into the golden patterns. The Cold Hunter King's figure gradually solidified beside Lin Lan, no longer an illusory soul shadow, but possessing a tangible outline.

With broad shoulders, a resolute face, and eyes that always held both tenderness and determination, he was now gazing intently at his trembling daughter in his arms.

Lingling felt the arms embracing her become even stronger. She looked up, and through her teary eyes, her father's face had never been so clear—not a superimposed image seen through Lin Lan's silhouette, but real, tangible…it was all back.
“Dad…” Lingling’s voice choked and almost broke. She reached out and carefully touched the Cold Hunter King’s cheek. The touch on her fingertips was warm, no longer the nothingness of a soul, but real skin with the warmth of life.

The Cold Hunter King held his daughter's hand tightly against his face, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. He wanted to say so much—to apologize, to explain, to ask how she had been all these years… but a thousand words stuck in his chest, finally turning into a deep sigh and an even tighter embrace.

The power of the totem continued to flow, and purple lightning surged within the Thunder Lion Vessel, gradually forming a rotating vortex of lightning around the Cold Hunter King's soul. At the center of the vortex, a majestic phantom of a thunder lion could be vaguely seen, its gaze fixed on Cold Hunter. (End of Chapter)