Chapter Five: Skyward Flight — The Demon Clan Priestess
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In an instant, two invisible, ghostly black shadows slowly emerged from the darkness behind.
Heichang whispered in confusion, “Your Highness, weren’t you going to temper the little prince’s temperament? Why allow Heichang to break through this fortified barrier?”
He found it increasingly difficult to understand Lord Yan Wang...
Yan Yi’s gaze followed the petite figure, his eyes flashing subtly as he said, “Yuan’er’s nature is too playful. Such habits cannot be changed overnight.”
“But soon, Weng Ze will return with the magical artifact. For the little prince to break through the nineteenth thousand layer cultivation technique, he would need to cultivate diligently for five hundred years!”
“No matter. Take your time. This palace can afford to wait.”
“Your Highness! The outer prison is unstable; the Celestial Realm’s Immortal Lords, the Demon Realm’s Emperors, the Dragon King, and even the Fox King of the Demon World are all restless. How could our Ghost Clan remain unmoved?”
Turning sharply, a powerful aura pressed down with chilling coldness as he looked down, “I said this palace can wait!”
Heichang trembled and hastily bowed his head in salute, “Heichang has overstepped. Your Highness has your own considerations.”
“Send someone out to monitor the other five great clans. Should there be any unusual movements, report immediately.”
“The… the five great clans? But the Human Clan is also about to—”
“Yes,” he replied lightly, then his figure vanished silently into the night’s stillness.
Heichang respectfully lowered his head and bowed before turning to carry out the orders.
...
Hell
Third-Level Palace
The soft, tender figure lightly stepped onto a mass of countless long swords veiled in mist. Her heart leapt with joy as she said, “Sister Heichang, if I stand on it, will it fly?”
“No. I’m teaching you how to control this sword.” Heichang stood opposite her, only beginning the slow incantation after the little prince stabilized her stance.
“Little prince, repeat after me... Cang Qiong, heed my command...”
The little bundle nodded, clenching her tiny fists, her eyes fixed on the long sword beneath her feet as she stammered, “Cang... Cang Qiong, heed my command...”
“That’s not quite right, little prince,” Heichang groaned, her spell dissipating instantly just as it was about to take effect.
The Cang Qiong sword also began to respond but immediately returned to silence, utterly still.
Yet, seeing the little prince’s innocent and pitifully confused expression, she found herself unable to be harsh.
“Th-then how should I say it?” The little bundle looked at her helplessly, then glanced at the sword hovering midair with uncertainty.
“You must unite your mind with it—you must sense its presence.”
“Unite my mind?” The little bundle furrowed her delicate brows, her pure, exquisite eyes filled with innocent wonder and a sense of being protected.
How does one unite their mind? Like Father taught her—emptying all thoughts, seeing nothing, when channeling magic?
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“You must discard all distractions, focus only on this Cang Qiong sword in your mind. When you sense it, swiftly issue your command.”
The little bundle thought of nothing else, slowly closing her eyes. Her hands retreated gently, mimicking Sister Heichang’s earlier movements. Her two fair hands flipped quickly before her, overlapping as she suddenly opened her eyes, feeling the sword’s tremble beneath her feet.
She shouted, “Cang Qiong, heed my command—”
“Shush!” The Cang Qiong sword immediately responded to the call, rising into the air, circling the misty clouds, and breaking free from midair.
“Ahhh!!”
“I’m flying!!”
“Sister Heichang, I’m flying!!”
The little bundle shouted happily in the dark sky, nearly dancing with joy.
Heichang looked at her with delight and encouragement, “You’re amazing, little prince! You learned it after only one try?”
When she learned to wield the Cang Qiong sword, she had fallen many times. Without her brother by her side, she might have been disfigured.
This was only the little prince's first spell, yet she remembered it so clearly. No wonder she was the daughter of Lord Yan Wang.
The little bundle happily waved to her, her lake-blue dress swirling gracefully in the air. The jingling Qiankun pouch and bell hanging from her waist sounded like musical accompaniment, beautiful beyond words.
“Sister Heichang—!!”
“I want to fly over there. How do I fly?”
Heichang smiled and said, “Now, the Cang Qiong sword listens to your command. Wherever you want to fly, just tell it.”
“Really? Then can I go find Father?”
“F-Find, find find who?!” Heichang nearly bit her tongue, inwardly anxious.
The little bundle excitedly pointed toward the two upper levels, shouting down to her, “I! Want! To find Father!”
“No—”
“I want Father to see me! Flying!!”
“No no no, absolutely not, little prince—” Heichang shook her head frantically. If Lord Yan Wang knew she was teaching the little prince these reckless things again, he would kill her.
“Sister Heichang! I’m off!” The little bundle was far too eager to show her father her flying skills to listen.
“No, little prince!!” Heichang’s pretty face turned pale, even paler than the demons of the tenth level of Hell.
“You mustn’t let Lord Yan Wang know, little prince.”
The moment she shouted this, the little bundle was already flying farther and farther away on the Cang Qiong sword.
“Little prince?!”
Heichang was so frightened she felt her soul might fly away with her. Flustered, she muttered, “It’s over, it’s really over now.”
...
Hell, First Level
Front Hall
The ghost servant Mao Ting respectfully lowered his head and reported, “Your Highness, the Demon Clan is waiting outside Hell.”
“The Demon Clan?” Yan Yi set down the glazed bead in his hand and slowly stood up, his eyes dark and heavy as he asked, “Did they say why they came?”
“No, Your Highness. Do you wish to see them?”
“I will go out to see.” Yan Yi vanished from his original spot in the palace in an instant, leaving behind only a thick, dense black mist with no trace of a human figure.
Mao Ting responded with “Yes,” then quietly disappeared outside the hall.
In the blink of an eye, the two figures had stepped out of Hell and stood at the border where the endless white mist of Hell met the outside realm.
The biting cold wind howled fiercely as drifting white fog blurred the view like an endless galactic desert, or a boundless sunset stretching beyond sight.
“Who goes there?” Mao Ting shouted at the newcomer.
The Demon Clan’s High Priest, Mo Han, bowed respectfully to the figure shrouded in black mist and exuding chilling coldness, “Greetings, Lord Yan Wang.”
“I am Mo Han, High Priest of the Demon Clan, here to pay respects to Lord Yan Wang.”
“Ah, High Priest Mo Han?” Yan Yi smiled softly—not warmly, but with a hint of politeness. “May I ask the reason for your visit to Hell?”
“Your Highness!” Mo Han clasped his hands tightly, eyes hopeful as he said, “It has been a long journey. May I come in for a cup of tea?”
The implication was that the matter he sought to discuss was not suitable for public hearing.
However, they had just been reprimanded by the Jade Balance Immortal Lord, yet now they came to Hell seeking tea. Would this not make it seem as if Hell were easily won over?
Hah, Hell was no place anyone could enter at will—especially now. Yan Yi did not want to get involved in their petty intrigues.
“Mao Ting, see them out.”
“Yes, ghost servant understands.”
Without a glance, Yan Yi turned coldly and stepped into the mist to leave.
Mo Han panicked and hurried after him, “Your Highness! Lord Yan Wang! You cannot stand by and do nothing. Please let me in...”
Mao Ting suddenly confronted him, the ghostly mist transforming into a spectral blade to block his way, “Hold! Hell is a fortress. Not just anyone may enter!”
Mo Han, desperate to save his young prince, cast a spell and overturned Mao Ting, then quickly pursued Lord Yan Wang’s figure, “Forgive me, I have no choice.”
Mao Ting tumbled but managed to steady himself against the strong wind, returning to his post.
He glared furiously at Mo Han’s retreating back, summoning his magic and shouting angrily, “Where are the ghost servants?!”
“The ghost servants are here.”
“Arrest this man. He must not enter the prison.”
“Yes, the ghost servants obey.”