"Only second-tier hell wings... I suppose that's barely passable."
Nether Mist surveyed the resources in the Soul Kingdom of Heaven and couldn't help shaking his head. "Even putting aside the fact that there isn't a single god, couldn't you have just taken the gods from those *** women? Shattered Lake, Gospel, Soul Lock, Fairy Tale... The Witch even has two gods! If I had the Soul Lock god, these Forgotten Ones would have been wiped out long ago!
"Tsk, the more I think about it, the angrier I get. What kind of once-in-a-generation idiot wouldn't even eat meat handed right to his mouth? You were dealt a winning hand and refused to play a single card!
"If it were me, I would've taken all of them first, then stirred up infighting among them. Female sorcerers in that state have their emotions running high, making it much easier to summon gods. Whoever contributes more gods gets favored—wouldn't that make it simple to harvest a huge haul of gods...?" Nether Mist muttered. "The Observer would definitely have done that. No, he would've been even more efficient, even more discreet..." He sighed. "So you see...
"I met the Observer, and you met Yaxiu."
Nether Mist pressed his palms together and closed his eyes. "We both had terrible luck, Vichy."
In the Soul Kingdom of Heaven, the "Soul Pressure" wonder quietly dissolved, fusing together with the scattered sorcery spirits of the "Rain Demon Lair" into a new wonder. The Substitute sorcery spirit was watching from the side, but seeing the Heart Sword sorcery spirit fly in as well, it hurriedly applied to enter the new wonder too. Nether Mist found this amusing and reserved an extra spot in the wonder for the Substitute sorcery spirit—having it made no difference, nor did lacking it. The new wonder looked like an iron throne bristling with sharp swords, with an ink-green figure seated upon it. This was the new wonder Nether Mist had constructed based on the Heart Pen—
"Heart Hunt Throne"!
Nether Mist pointed a finger. A streak of nether light sliced through the sky from his fingertip, leaving behind an inky-gray trail. The ink trace drew a colossal circle around the Forgotten Ones; the moment the loop closed, the inky ring contracted at blistering speed. The Forgotten Ones who failed to dodge in time were instantly shredded and annihilated, their shattered souls flowing along the ink traces into Nether Mist's gossamer raiment, deepening his ethereal hue.
The legion of Forgotten Ones immediately reacted with the correct countermeasure: they dispersed, no longer staying on the same horizontal plane, minimizing the risk of being encircled. Such a powerful wonder, they assumed, could not possibly be unleashed many times.
Yet how could a wonder produced by the Soul Supreme be something they could gauge from past combat experience? The greatest strength of the "Heart Hunt Throne" lay in its miniscule consumption—it did not rely on the source power consumed by demigods, but was instead linearly correlated with a sorcerer's soul foundation.
This was precisely why Nether Mist had disassembled "Soul Pressure": it contained several key sorcery spirits that could bind the Heart Sword's might to the soul foundation!
In all of Hell, no one possessed a soul foundation surpassing Yaxiu's—not even a Soul Demigod... Blessed with the Soul Kingdom of Heaven, Yaxiu's soul foundation was already at the God-Leader level! Not to mention that Nether Mist was piloting him; even if the demigods responded immediately and attempted to resist with soul miracles, he could continuously fine-tune the frequency of the "Heart Hunt Throne," locating their most vulnerable gaps and effortlessly grinding their souls to dust!
An utterly absurd spectacle unfolded over the ocean: Nether Mist sat poised high in the sky, and with the flick of his fingers, the haughty legions of demigods plummeted in batch after batch, like swarms of mosquitoes struck by an electric swatter, or stalks of grain harvested by a scythe.
When both the seas above and below were dyed deep crimson, Nether Mist drifted between the seas of blood, seemingly becoming the only wandering wraith in Hell. That was how it should be. *You are so lowly, you have no right to share the sky with me.*
A tyrant draws a circle on a map, and countless subjects perish for it.
Yet Nether Mist was not content with mere killing. If one were being technical, he wasn't truly someone who killed indiscriminately; it was simply that he needed other people's souls. But others were seldom willing to hand over their souls obediently, nor were they willing to die, so Nether Mist had no choice but to offer them a little assistance.
Hundreds and thousands of souls converged toward Nether Mist. He was not in the best of moods right now, so every one of these ghosts was to be subjected to capital punishment. Flesh and blood festered, fingernails ripped backwards, nasal bones collapsed, limbs twisted... Hundreds of tormented souls wailed in despair above the sea of blood. The scene was gory, the atmosphere horrific, yet Nether Mist closed his eyes in relaxation.
The environment he felt most comfortable in was Hell—especially a hell created by his own hands.
Now all the Forgotten Ones were dead, and for the time being, no new Forgotten Ones would appear. The Stomach of the Great Serpent had merely been provoked by the scent of Dead Frenzy, which was why it had dispatched so many Forgotten Ones. To it, Yaxiu was just a petty virus to be dealt with in passing... Since Dead Frenzy did not continue provoking it, the Stomach of the Great Serpent naturally would not overreact.
However, if they wished to interfere in reality, they could only do so through Yaxiu's body; otherwise, Ouroboros would fly into a rage because of their scent. In theory, this great serpent possessed no emotions, but through prolonged torment and pursuit, they had successfully taught it the meaning of hatred.
Nether Mist glanced at the ghosts circling around him and lost interest in tormenting them. With a casual wave of his hand, they melted away like ice cream, utterly eroded by the pinnacle of agony.
In truth, Nether Mist was willing to help Yaxiu save a reserve of ghosts, but unfortunately, these were the souls of Forgotten Ones, completely incapable of existing outside the Stomach of the Great Serpent. In fact, after a little while, they would degrade naturally, leaving nothing behind like discarded plastic bags.
Meanwhile, the wonder "Dark Soul Form" collapsed completely, most of its sorcery spirits destroying themselves outright from sheer exhaustion. Nether Mist could use despair to threaten exhausted sorcery spirits into exerting 120 percent of their effort, but the price was their inevitable sudden death... But what did that matter? They were merely a bunch of sorcery spirits anyway.
*Still, with this done, I can finally go mess with Vichy—* Thump!
Nether Mist's body shuddered. Across his cruel, ferocious face, a look of reluctance actually surfaced. "Give me ten more minutes... Three minutes, three minutes is fine, right...? Even one minute, just let me say a word to her..."
He seemed to lose all strength. His virtual wings retracted, and he plummeted straight into the crimson ocean.
"The sea breeze..."
Yaxiu opened his eyes and murmured softly, "It really is comfortable." *Plop.* His utterly exhausted soul didn't even want to move a finger; Yaxiu allowed himself to plunge into the lightless deep sea. Yet in the pitch-black, profound sea bottom, he could still smell the pungent scent of smoke.
Looking at Dead Frenzy falling alongside him, he suddenly had the sensation of running into his creditor at a bathhouse.
"Twenty-five percent. I've taken it," Dead Frenzy said calmly.
Yaxiu looked at her, question in his eyes, but did not speak. Dead Frenzy averted her gaze and blew out a perfect smoke ring. "You will soon know what you have lost. Not power, not life, but..."
"Yourself."
***
When sunlight squeezed through his eyelids, Yaxiu instinctively let out a lazy hum through his nose, turning his head aside to avoid the glare.
After a moment, his nose twitched. Catching a faint fragrance of honey, he cracked his eyes open a slit—right now, he was lying face-to-face with the maid, so close their noses were almost touching.
Vichy lay beside him, sleeping soundly. Her long pink hair was splayed across the pillow, and the sunlight falling upon her face gave it a milky luster. Each of her eyelashes seemed frosted with condensed radiance, and playful glimmers danced and shimmered upon the cute, dainty tip of her nose.
Yaxiu stared at her blankly, then glanced downward, catching sight of the deep cleavage formed by two soft mounds within the maid's corset. He pondered for a moment, then decided to enjoy the view first.
"Aren't you going to touch?" a lazy, teasing voice chimed in from beside him. Yaxiu instantly started, his face turning bright red as he looked at Vichy, seemingly at a loss. Vichy blinked, suddenly enlightened: "No need to worry, the Sword Princess and the others aren't behind you. Only I know that you were peeking at my body, Master... Wait, you were looking right out in the open. You were just short of undressing me with your eyes."
"The Sword Princess..." Yaxiu blinked. "Where did they go?"
"It's almost noon now. Seeing that you hadn't woken up this morning, and since today is the opening day for the nearby sorcery spirit black market, they went over to see if there are any suitable sorcery spirits." Vichy rested her cheek in her hand. "Save what you saw in Hell for when they get back, so you don't have to tell it twice."
"Mm."
"Do you want to sleep some more?"
"...Mm."
"Do you want a morning kiss?" Vichy smiled mischievously, revealing her wicked little canines.
By all rights, Vichy shouldn't have made dangerous jokes when it was just the two of them, because it had been proven many times before that Yaxiu had the ability to turn the tables on her. However, after thinking about it all night, Vichy had realized that Yaxiu's counterattacks were selective. Compared to "love," he flustered her far more on the front of "desire"; if she insisted on making lewd jokes with him, he would genuinely take up the challenge.
So Vichy wanted to try teasing him from the angle of "love." She was certain Yaxiu would never display any affection. In her imagination, Yaxiu would either turn his head in refusal or arrogantly accept the challenge; either way, she could test his bottom line further.
Yet Yaxiu's reaction still exceeded her expectations. His eyes went wide as he looked at her, clutching the quilt in his arms, saying nothing, lips pressed tightly together like a little raccoon that had let down all its guard... Vichy froze. This was the first time she had ever failed to see that lingering, faint vigilance in Yaxiu's eyes.
Hesitating for a moment, she brushed back a lock of hair, leaned in, and gently pecked Yaxiu's lips. Soft, and very nice. During their last deep kiss, her attention had been entirely commandeered by Yaxiu's technique; she hadn't savored his taste at all.
Yet this didn't test Yaxiu's bottom line in the least. Vichy's eyes darted, and she added, "Your turn."
"Huh?"
"A morning kiss is mutual. It's proper etiquette. I gave you one, so now it's your turn to give me one." Vichy made up nonsense on the fly, her eyes fixed intently on Yaxiu's reaction.
*I won't even give you a chance to be passive this time. Will you be decisive or will you refuse? Let me see your bottom line!*
But Yaxiu was neither refusing nor decisive. He hesitated for quite a while before slowly reaching out toward Vichy. He was so cautious, constantly watching Vichy's expression, as if the moment she showed the slightest displeasure he would pull up the covers and curl into a ball.
His movements were as stiff as if this were his first time ever being intimate with the maid, every hair on his body practically screaming tension.
For some reason, Vichy grew nervous as well. She waited motionless for Yaxiu to approach, yet an impulse to flee welled up within her heart. As a prophecy demigod, she suddenly had a bizarre intuition—this was her last chance; if she didn't run now, it would be over.
Yaxiu gave her plenty of time to run, and with every passing second Vichy's desire to flee surged higher. Yet whether out of pride or self-confidence, she forcibly suppressed the impulse. The moment Yaxiu's fingertips touched her, however, Vichy's sense of danger spiked to its absolute limit. Completely abandoning her pointless pride, she wanted nothing more than to leap like a rabbit and jump out the second-floor window... but she couldn't, because Yaxiu wrapped his arm around her neck and gently pressed his lips against hers.
There was no extra intimacy—a fleeting touch and release, an almost purely courteous kiss, over before Vichy could even feel it. By rights, she shouldn't have felt anything, yet the problem was... this was a kiss without any reason behind it.
It wasn't to search memories, nor to investigate clues; it was just an ordinary, pure expression of affection... a morning greeting.
"I'm going to prepare lunch, your drink is on the nightstand!"
In one fluid motion, Vichy got out of bed, opened the door, and shut it behind her, fleeing the bedroom at demigod speed and leaving behind only a rushed announcement about lunch, as if she loved cooking that much.
Yaxiu pondered in bed for a moment, picked up the can of milk coffee on the nightstand, and walked over to open the window. The temperature outside was still quite low, but the gentle warmth of the sunlight brushing against his face on the breeze was exceptionally comfortable.
"So nice," he murmured softly after taking a huge gulp of milk coffee. "It's so good to be back."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yaxiu tilted his head back to gaze at the patterns on the ceiling, exhaling a soft puff of white mist. "She knows the Sword Princess and the others... She stayed by my side, waiting for me to return... and in my heart, I truly do have feelings for her as well..."
"In other words, she must be someone close to me..."
Chapter 1069