If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

A cold light seeped from the bottom of the altar.

The light was not like a blazing flame, but it was stinging.

The holy messenger's figure hovered in mid-air, semi-transparent.

The remaining fragments of armor on his back swayed like feathers being blown by the wind.

Three days and nights later, the altar was covered in bloodstains.

Every time the midnight bells toll, true essence is drawn in from the cracks in the earth.

The true essence flowed along the lines of the palm, rushing straight to the Holy Envoy's palm.

His fingertips trembled slightly, and the talisman appeared and disappeared in the light.

The talisman cracked open, revealing silver patterns.

The lines resemble thin snakes, spiraling and swirling.

For three days, the true energy continued uninterrupted.

On the first day, the sunlight was like rain.

The next day, the lines became even clearer.

On the third day, the light gathered into a sphere.

The sphere expands in the palm of your hand, then suddenly contracts.

A pale blue light ignited in the envoy's eyes.

He closed his eyes, and the fragments of the Soul-Locking Array on his chest made a soft sound.

The fragments, originally scattered in various places, are now being drawn together by the true essence and pieced back together.

Ancient runes appeared on the surface of the fragments, like extensions of bloodstains.

The envoy gently pressed the fragment with his palm, and the fragment trembled slightly.

A chill spread from the fragments throughout his body.

A new rune appeared on the envoy's chest, its silver light flashing slightly.

He stood up, his steps steady.

Suddenly, the stone pillars around the altar cracked, and dark red dust flew up.

There was a faint metallic smell mixed in with the dust.

The holy envoy raised his hand, and the talisman immediately transformed into a sharp blade of light.

The blade of light cleaved through the darkness, cutting through the dust.

As the dust settled, the ancient well deep underground was revealed.

The boiling water in the ancient well reflected the image of the holy envoy.

In the reflection, a blood-red light appeared in the envoy's eyes.

The crimson light danced in the reflection, as if it were breathing.

The holy messenger chanted in a low voice, deep yet powerful.

The surrounding stone walls began to tremble, and cracks spread rapidly.

The cracks spread outwards like vines.

Each diffusion was accompanied by the humming of true energy.

Finally, the cracks converged into a ring of light.

Inside the light curtain, the complete fragment of the Soul-Locking Array was revealed.

The fragment is engraved with sixty symbols, arranged like stars.

The holy messenger stretched out his other hand and pointed to the center of the fragment.

A beam of silver light shot out from the fingertip and pierced directly into the fragment.

The fragment emitted a low rumble, then fell silent.

The space inside the light curtain showed faint ripples of light, as if something was brewing.

The envoy frowned slightly, but his eyes shone.

He withdrew his hand, and the light screen slowly dissipated.

The bloodstains on the altar flickered again, like sparks igniting.

At that moment, a mournful horn sounded from the distant valley.

As the horn sounded, dozens of assassins dressed in black emerged from the shadows.

They carried short knives and marched in unison.

Each person had a black winged symbol hanging on their back.

The envoy remained calm and walked directly toward the assassin.

He raised his hand, and the talisman at his fingertips transformed into a sharp beam of light.

As the beam of light flashed, several assassins instantly fell to the ground.

The remaining assassins panicked and took a few steps back.

The envoy murmured, "Capture Zhou Yang and return swiftly."

The sound was as harsh as a cold wind, yet it was oppressive.

The sound waves created ripples in the air, heading straight for the assassin's chest.

Several assassins had a red glow on their chests before collapsing to the ground.

The remaining assassins were pale, their eyes flashing with fear.

They whispered the message, and the token in their hands fell to the ground.

The token is engraved with a silver dragon pattern, which is the mark of the Dark Tide forces.

The envoy picked up the token and gently smoothed out the scratches on its surface.

His voice rang out again: "Report Zhou Yang's whereabouts to the Heavenly Principles Sect's high tower."

These words echoed through the valley like thunder.

The echoes from the valley reverberated in the air, lingering for a long time.

In the darkness, the fire was rekindled.

The altar's stone slabs were stained red with blood, and the light reflected off their uneven textures.

The holy messenger stood in the center of the altar, holding the fragment of the Soul-Locking Manual in his hand.

He put the fragment into his pocket, but a moment later, the fragment's light floated out on its own and surrounded him.

The halo swayed in the wind like a thin mist.

The envoy stared intently into the distance, his eyes sharp as knives.

He knew that Zhou Yang had embarked on a new path.

He also knew that his fate was now closely tied to the Soul-Locking Array.

At this moment, he was no longer simply an executor.

He is the master of the altar, and also the blade of the undercurrent.

As night deepened, scattered lights shone on the gravel.

The saint's shadow was elongated by the moonlight, like a blade.

He turned and left, his steps neither hurried nor slow.

Each step treads on the stone slabs already imbued with true essence, leaving faint traces of light.

The lights of the distant tower were still flickering, casting the silhouette of the holy messenger.

As light and shadow intertwine, it seems as if an invisible net is being woven.

The envoy had only one thought in his mind: to capture Zhou Yang.

He no longer cared whether it was worth it, only about the result.

As the figure receded into the distance, the flames on the altar trembled slightly before finally going out.

Night fell silent, with only the sound of the wind echoing through the valley.

The mountain road was very quiet.

Only the wind.

The wind rustled through the grass. The moon hid behind the clouds, and its light dimmed.

Zhou Yang stopped in his tracks.

His ears twitched.

That gust of wind just now...something was off. It was too dense. Like something rushing through the grass.

He took a half step back, leaning his back against a thick pine tree. His hand rested on the hilt of the knife at his waist.

True essence flowed slowly within the body.

The blue scar on my chest began to feel slightly warm, like a piece of jade being warmed by a gentle touch.

Something is approaching.

Not a beast.

He recognized the scent of a wild beast. That pure, undisguised killing intent. Now, its approach carried a sense of...structure. A sense of order.

He raised his head.

A sliver of moonlight peeked through the gaps in the clouds.

He saw it.

The figure stood on the mountain path ten feet ahead. It seemed as if it had always been there, or as if it had slowly grown out of the darkness.

He was dressed in a black robe and hood, obscuring his face. Only his eyes were visible.

Those eyes were bright. Not the light of condensed true energy, but a pure, calm brightness. Like cold stars.

Holy Messenger.

Zhou Yang's heart sank.

It was him. The man who rose from the dead on the altar. The holy messenger of the Heavenly Principle Sect.

How did he find this place? I've been careful enough.

The envoy remained silent.

He simply looked at Zhou Yang. His gaze was devoid of emotion, like a butcher examining a piece of meat, contemplating where to begin his cut.

This silence is more irritating than any threatening words.

Zhou Yang tapped the hilt of the knife lightly with his fingers.

A crisp sound.

This can be considered a response.

The envoy seemed to understand.

He slowly raised his hand.

The sleeve slipped down, revealing a pale, withered hand. There was no flesh on the hand; it looked as if skin was simply wrapped around bones.

He was holding a few pieces between his fingers.

It was very thin, like a sheet of iron. It was pitch black with irregular edges. Fine lines were engraved on it, and it gleamed faintly in the moonlight.

It is a remnant of the Soul Lock.

Zhou Yang's pupils contracted.

He had seen this thing before. In Anyang County, at that branch of the Heavenly Principle Sect. Fang Tian had fragments of memories about it. A sinister magical artifact used to imprison the soul.

The holy messenger moved.

He waved his hand.

The black metal pieces flew out of my hand. There was no whooshing sound. They flew quickly and silently, like a swarm of black butterflies.

The piece of iron did not fly towards Zhou Yang.

Instead, it circled around him and flew in all directions.

Puff. Puff. Puff.

With a series of muffled thuds, the metal pieces were driven straight into the ground and into the surrounding tree trunks.

One piece, two pieces, three pieces...

There are nine pieces in total.

They formed a strange circle, surrounding Zhou Yang in the middle.

Zhou Yang immediately sensed that something was wrong.

The air felt thick and sticky, like being trapped in a swamp. It was hard to breathe.

The flow of his vital energy slowed down, like a fish entangled in seaweed. The scar on his chest was burning hot, as if needles were pricking him.

An invisible force was pressing in from all directions.

It wasn't physical. It was a spiritual feeling. It was as if someone was pulling at him from all sides, trying to drag his soul out of his body.

Soul-Locking Array.

This thing can actually be set up instantly.

Zhou Yang's face darkened.

He tried to circulate his true energy, hoping to break free from this constraint. But his true energy was like a rusty gear, turning with immense difficulty.

Each rotation requires ten times more effort than usual.

Moreover, the pulling sensation became stronger and stronger.

Double vision began to appear before his eyes. The mountain path, the trees, the moon—everything was swaying. A buzzing noise filled his ears, like countless people whispering in them.

My soul is about to be locked up.

Once completely locked up, he will become a sitting duck.

The envoy remained standing, watching quietly.

He knew that this formation was unsolvable. For martial artists, the soul is the weakest link.

Zhou Yang's breathing became heavy.

He gritted his teeth.

No. We can't just sit here and wait to die.

His mind was racing.

Break the formation. How?

A direct assault? No way. With his true energy suppressed, he can't unleash its full power.

Escape? Even more impossible. This formation is like an invisible cage.

He suddenly remembered something.

In his arms.

That dragon spine fragment.

Fang Tian's fragmented memories mentioned that the Dragon Spine was a divine weapon, containing the most powerful and masculine energy. This energy was the nemesis of all evil and yin things.

The Soul-Locking Array is an evil and sinister object.

Let's take a gamble.

Zhou Yang no longer hesitated.

He endured the excruciating pain in his head and reached into his robes. His fingertips touched the shard. It was cold, hard, and had a rough texture.

He took it out.

Under the moonlight, this unremarkable piece of metal had no luster whatsoever. It looked just like an ordinary piece of scrap iron.

But Zhou Yang could sense the power contained within it. A dormant, terrifying power.

He looked at the holy messenger before him.

The envoy's eyes seemed to flicker. He clearly recognized the fragment. His composure was broken for the first time.

Zhou Yang didn't give him time to react.

He used all his strength to throw the shard in his hand.

The fragments did not sink into the ground like the metal sheet.

It floats in the air.

Right at the very center of the circle formed by the nine black iron plates. That is, the core of the formation.

The fragments trembled slightly in the air.

Then, it lit up.

At first, it was a faint silver light, like a firefly.

The next moment, a burst of silver light erupted.

It wasn't a gentle light. It was a blinding, dazzling light! Like a sun suddenly igniting in a dark cave.

Golden light!

Pure, domineering light!

The entire mountain path was illuminated by the golden light, as bright as day. The shadows of the trees were stretched out instantly and then disappeared just as quickly.

Om-!

A loud bang.

It wasn't an explosive sound. It sounded like some kind of high-pitched ringing. The frequency was extremely high, making one's eardrums ache.

The nine black remnants of the Soul Lock began to tremble violently under the golden light. They emitted shrill screams, like ghosts scalded by boiling oil.

The black lines etched on it are rapidly dissolving.

The pressure exerted on Zhou Yang by the Soul-Locking Array vanished instantly.

The pulling sensation and the sticky feeling faded away like the receding tide.

Zhou Yang took a deep breath.

The air was crisp and clear, carrying the scent of pine needles. True energy began to flow joyfully within my body once more.

He saw that the golden light was still spreading.

The dragon spine fragment hovered in the air like a miniature star. It continuously emitted golden light waves, impacting the entire formation.

The nine remaining soul-locking fragments lasted for less than three breaths.

Click.

A crisp sound.

The first piece of iron split in the middle. Black smoke billowed from the crack.

Then came the second piece, the third piece...

Like dominoes.

Click! Click! Click!

The sound of shattering continued.

Under the golden light, the black iron pieces shattered into black powder, which was then scattered by the night wind.

The Soul-Locking Array has collapsed.

The holy envoy standing outside the formation suddenly changed his expression.

He didn't expect this outcome.

He never expected that the fragment would be so terrifying.

If the formation is forcibly broken, it will inevitably cause a backlash of true energy.

His face turned pale, and he opened his mouth as if to say something.

A violent force flowed back into his body along with the broken remnants.

puff!

The holy envoy suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.

The blood wasn't red. It was black. And it had a burnt smell.

His body felt as if it had been struck by a battering ram, and he staggered back seven or eight steps, each step leaving a deep footprint in the ground.

He crashed headfirst into a large tree behind him.

"boom!"

The pine tree, as thick as a person's embrace, shook violently, and its leaves fell like rain.

The envoy leaned against the tree trunk and slowly slid down to the ground. His withered hand clutched his chest, black blood seeping from between his fingers.

His head hung low, and only rapid breathing could be heard beneath his black hood.

His prized remnants of the Soul-Locking technique couldn't even withstand a single move from his opponent.

Moreover, the backlash was more severe than he had imagined. His true energy flowed in reverse, and his meridians were severed. He felt as if his internal organs had been ripped apart.

He lost.

The defeat was so complete and so swift.

Silence returned to the mountain path.

Only the fragment of the dragon's spine still emitted a soft golden light in the air, then slowly dimmed, and finally fell to the ground with a "plop".

Zhou Yang slowly walked over, bent down, and picked up the broken pieces.

The fragments were still warm.

He glanced at the holy envoy leaning against the tree trunk, his fate unknown.

He didn't go forward to finish off the enemy.

Killing someone who's already incapacitated is pointless and a waste of energy.

Moreover, the Heavenly Principle Sect's power is too great. Killing this holy envoy will only lead to another. It would be better to let him take a message back with him.

A message regarding the power of the Dragonspine Shard.

Zhou Yang put the fragments back into his pocket.

He turned around, ready to leave.

Just then, the holy messenger who was lying on the ground moved slightly.

He used his last bit of strength to lift his head.

The hood slipped down, revealing a face.

That face was as dry and withered as tree bark. Where the eyes were, there were two dark, hollow holes.

He didn't look at Zhou Yang.

Instead, she looked in the direction of Zhou Yang's arms.

A hoarse, broken sound came from his throat.

"The fragment... is mine..."

After saying this, he lowered his head and fell silent.

Zhou Yang paused for a moment.

He didn't turn around.

He simply touched his chest.

mine?

He gave a cold laugh.

If I can grab it, it's mine.

He didn't linger, and his figure quickly disappeared into the dark forest.

On the mountain path, only a lifeless holy messenger remained, leaning against a tree trunk, and black powder covered the ground.

The wind picked up again, carrying a faint smell of blood.