Chapter 153: Soul Emperor! Immortal Emperor Soul Abyss!

"Hmph, you talk big, yet you won't even tell me just how formidable those few people ahead really are."

The young man in the black robe caught up to the old man in a few strides. The two of them walked side by side amidst the howling wind and heavy snow, their figures gradually fading until they disappeared into the horizon of the snowstorm. Even the few footprints left on the pale, vast snowy ground were once again covered by the drifting flakes.

Mo Yuan raised his head and gazed in that direction until there was no one left to be seen, then turned his head back, tilting it slightly as if pondering how to resolve the matter at hand.

"Brother Mo? Who are you? You're not Brother Mo, where is Brother Mo!" Lu Qinglian looked at the face that belonged to Baili Mo but wore an expression utterly alien to him—an expression so unfamiliar to her.

"I am indeed not Baili Mo, but does that matter?" Mo Yuan said unconcernedly.

"Don't worry, your Brother Mo is not dead yet. I'm keeping him hanging on by his last breath. If he dies, I'll be in big trouble. I certainly don't want to be locked up in this little dark room for the rest of my life."

Mo Yuan walked toward Xia Chuan step by step, the black Qi blanketing this space obeying his every command. With a loud thud, Xia Chuan dropped to his knees on the ground, the wisps of black Qi pressing down on his shoulders weighing as heavily as a thousand mountains.

"Your Brother Mo is asleep right now, and I will take you away. This is the deal I made with him: I will protect your safety for a time. As for whether your Brother Mo will wake up later, and when he will wake up, you'll have to ask him about that."

Following a sharp crack, the ground beneath Xia Chuan's knees shattered in a spiderweb pattern, forming a sizable pit. Pinned down by the black Qi and unable to move, Xia Chuan's once-stout spine slowly bent downward—an unbearable humiliation for him, a supreme commander of Great Xia.

"I am not a bloodthirsty person, but unfortunately, you fall within the scope of my deal with him. If you don't die, that young girl will encounter far too many unnecessary troubles." Mo Yuan squatted down in front of Xia Chuan, gently patted his face, and wore a mocking expression.

"However, you don't even resist, which makes this quite dull for me. I actually thought we might have a grand battle beforehand." Mo Yuan sighed in mock pity.

"Stop putting on that hypocritical act in front of me! Because of you, how many people in Great Xia died during the Imperial-Demon Calamity!" Xia Chuan took a deep breath and shouted fiercely.

"The Imperial-Demon Calamity? Tsk, that demon was probably stirred up by that old friend of mine. Still, if possible, I truly would like to have a bout with that fellow." Mo Yuan murmured as if reminiscing, actually displaying a hint of regret.

"Your hypocritical visage makes me sick to my stomach." Xia Chuan lowered his head, but the spiritual energy within him erupted once more. The illusory, glass-like Nascent Soul inside his body shattered into pieces, and a surging, pure torrent of spiritual energy poured from the fragments directly into Xia Chuan.

"A forbidden technique that guarantees certain death? Heh, rather interesting. Merging with one's own Nascent Soul while obliterating it, leaving oneself no path of retreat. This is far more formidable than merely shattering one's Nascent Soul. Such a forbidden art must have been bestowed upon you by Great Xia; otherwise, a minor warrior like you could never acquire it. However, soul destruction and eternal damnation are certainly guaranteed." Surprise flickered in Mo Yuan's eyes, as if he had grown interested in Xia Chuan once more.

"Too many unexpected turns have happened in this battle. Having reached this point and lost all my brothers, I never expected to survive anyway. Since that is the case, I might as well throw caution to the wind and fight to the death!"

"Past lives, the present, future lives, reincarnation—I believe in none of these! I believe only that by killing you, by destroying you, can I and my brothers finally rest in peace!"

Xia Chuan stomped heavily on the ground, a thunderous roar echoing out as the earth shattered over a wide area. Yet, Xia Chuan managed to stand back up. His cultivation realm broke through the mid-Nascent Soul stage and stabilized at the late Nascent Soul stage—this was the power he gained by overdrawing everything he had.

"Is that so? Is that so! The late Nascent Soul stage? Even if it is just a fleeting flash of brilliance, I can reluctantly accept this level of cultivation." Mo Yuan spread his arms and laughed loudly. The sound of collapsing mountains echoed from within the pillar of darkness, and the rampant black Qi spread and destroyed everything in its path.

"That brat has no idea how to use this black Qi, but I am different. I was born from the darkness; to me, all of this is my entirety."

"Xia Chuan, don't go dying on me without paying attention."

With eyes filled with excitement, Mo Yuan gazed at Xia Chuan and flicked his right hand. A surge of black Qi swept forth and enveloped Lu Qinglian. No matter how much she screamed or struggled, it was all in vain; trapped within the dark miasma, she was whisked away from the battlefield.

No matter what happened next, Mo Yuan would not let Lu Qinglian die casually. If she died, things would become extremely troublesome on Baili Mo's end.

"Ah!!!" Xia Chuan roared, casually waving his hand to unleash strands of silver blade-light that shone blindingly bright within the pitch-black space.

"Let me see, then, whether the roles of hunter and prey have reversed." Mo Yuan muttered to himself as a wisp of black Qi covered his face, forming a ferocious, ghastly ghost mask.

"What a pity. The current me is merely a fragment of a fragment; there are far too many things I cannot remember."

"Yet there is a single name I still recall—the moniker bestowed upon me by all under heaven, one which I calmly accepted. That name might be somewhat distant to you, a name that fundamentally could not exist in this tiny world of yours."

"Ah yes, it is the Immortal Emperor. My other name: the Soul Emperor, Soul Abyss Immortal Emperor."

Mo Yuan abruptly raised his head, revealing a ferocious and terrifying ghost mask that seemed to wear both a smile and a tear.

He surged forward in a dash toward Xia Chuan, carrying the wailing cries of ten thousand malevolent ghosts as he crashed fiercely into the silver blade-light blocking Xia Chuan's path.

The blade-light instantly dissipated, failing to inflict even the slightest scratch on Mo Yuan.

The long saber in Xia Chuan's right hand returned to his grip and slashed fiercely toward Mo Yuan. Carrying a massive crescent of silver blade-light, it cleaved the ground beneath them cleanly in two.

Mo Yuan grinned broadly, sweeping his hand to unleash a sheet of black Qi that washed over the blade-light. The silver radiance was instantly dyed pitch black and dissolved into nothingness within the pillar of darkness.

"Blade Art: Prison of the Void!" A colossal sabre materialized once more, radiating a dazzling brilliance that pushed back the surrounding darkness.

"The same old move again. Aren't you tired of it?" Mo Yuan waved his hand, looking utterly bored.

Underneath Xia Chuan's blade, vast swarms of grievances and wandering souls materialized once more—those who had perished beneath Xia Chuan's blade over decades of warfare, sealed within his artifact saber to disrupt and slaughter enemies.

"Playing with souls? Playing with souls in front of me? How laughable. Truly a case of displaying one's slight skill before an expert." A sneer echoed from beneath Mo Yuan's mask.

The giant sabre descended from the heavens, accompanied by countless vengeful spirits falling in unison. With every grievance that dissipated beneath the blade, the sabre's radiance grew a fraction brighter, and the shrieks of the dissolving souls were piercing enough to drive Golden Core cultivators mad.

"What pitiful souls, trapped within a blade to suffer day after day. That sensation must be most unpleasant."

"However, your torment ends today—your heart-wrenching wails, your lungs-splitting shrieks, and your roars of rage at being confined to a corner..."

"I have heard them all."

Mo Yuan spread his arms wide as if embracing the gargantuan sabre plunging from the sky. Blade-light swirled, tearing up everything in its path, yet the moment Mo Yuan opened his arms toward the giant blade, its descent visibly slowed to a crawl.

The shrieks of the vengeful spirits embedded within the massive blade grew even more miserable, sounding like fingernails scraping across a stone wall—a spine-chilling and terrifying noise.

Behind Mo Yuan, the malevolent ghosts that belonged to him and worshipped him cheered in ecstasy. One after another, they dropped to their knees behind Mo Yuan, as if welcoming their king, while faint ghost-fire flickered within their eye sockets, glaringly distinct in the darkness.

Meanwhile, the giant sabre hurtling from the sky slowed down more and more until it ground to a complete halt mid-air. The dazzling radiance on the blade gradually faded, and the vengeful spirits once trapped within no longer wept in agony; instead, just like the malevolent ghosts behind Mo Yuan, they hollered and shrieked with unbridled excitement.

No longer feeling fear or sorrow, they swarmed over the giant sabre—which had once been their personal hell—and bared their fangs, biting, polluting, and eroding it.

Cracks continuously spread across the blade body. The original silver light vanished entirely, and the weapon grew dim and lusterless. Within a few breaths, amidst the wild laughter of Mo Yuan and the myriad vengeful ghosts, Xia Chuan watched with wide-eyed horror as his ultimate technique was dismantled by the very souls he had used to attack others.

"Xia Chuan, I advise you not to use soul-based attacks in front of me. Otherwise, the only one who will suffer is you."

Mo Yuan waved his hand, and the vengeful souls from the blade rushed toward Mo Yuan in delight, submissively pledging allegiance at his feet like stray dogs finally finding a shelter.

With a shattering sound, the blade fractured like a mirror, breaking into countless pieces in mid-air before being swallowed by the surrounding black Qi. Xia Chuan's painstakingly prepared strike was casually undone by just a few words from Mo Yuan.

Xia Chuan spat a mouthful of blood, suffering the backlash of his shattered technique. Combined with the vitality of his Nascent Soul that he had continuously overdrawn since his battle with Baili Mo, his Nascent Soul was now broken, time had run out, and he was reduced to a spent force.

The backlash left him deathly weak, and he could clearly feel his life, his cultivation, and his soul slipping away from him.

He bit the tip of his tongue hard. As the commander of millions in Great Xia, he could never die in such a humiliating manner. Even in death, he would go out in a blaze of glory and make Mo Yuan pay the price!

Because of the backlash from the vengeful souls, the artifact saber in his hand was covered in cracks, on the verge of shattering to pieces at the slightest touch.

Discarding the ruined weapon, Xia Chuan charged at Mo Yuan bare-handed. Even without a blade, a razor-sharp cutting intent still radiated from his body—his flesh, his very fists, had become the sharpest sabre, his ultimate weapon!

This was intent! Xia Chuan's sabre intent!

Seeing this, Mo Yuan grew even more excited. His black robes gradually dissolved, replaced by a suit of heavy black battle armor etched with intricate, gloomy patterns that emitted a spine-chilling, pitch-black glow.

Matched with a ferocious, barb-covered mask and imposing black armor, followed by legions of abyss ghosts, Mo Yuan's aura multiplied several times over in an instant.

With a grim smile and amidst the battle-cries of countless ghosts, he exchanged blow for blow with Xia Chuan, fist to fist and flesh to flesh. Their speed was too fast for the naked eye to capture; sonic booms echoed continuously through the space, distorting the fabric of reality, while gouts of blood occasionally splattered from the sky alongside the drifting snow.

Trapped within a barrier formed by wisps of black Qi and unable to move, Lu Qinglian could only watch helplessly as sonic booms rattled the sky above. Even though she could see nothing clearly, discarded helplessly to the side as she was, she still had no inkling of what had actually transpired.

The snow falling from the sky gradually grew lighter, yet the temperature continued to plummet, dropping far beyond what any mortal could endure—a cold so biting that even ordinary cultivators dared not approach lightly.

The snow drifted down sporadically, accompanied by a few droplets of blood that had already frozen solid mid-air, until a severed arm plummeted from the heavens, and the battle finally drew to its end.