My soul looked like an old, worn-out shirt, with patches of new cloth awkwardly sewn over it to cover the tears. Though someone might describe it mundanely if they ever saw it, there was a particular horror to it. A malformed form lurked beneath the surface, twisting and writhing, trying to grab everything around it. It was as if my very essence was a grotesque entity struggling to hold itself together while reaching out for something more.
However, it didn't feel like I struggled to hold myself together; this was just its natural shape.
Just "looking" at my soul felt weird. It was that same hollow feeling of looking at my wound right after surgery. Such a primal fear.
Damn, was my own soul scaring me?
But just as I tried to observe the mess of my soul, the grime within the misshapen thing—like an infection holding it together—began to change. Once chaotic and erratic, my soul started to calm down, the frantic movements slowing to a gentle stillness. Gradually, it formed into a seemingly perfect sphere, smooth and unblemished. The grime that had marred its surface slowly disappeared as if expelled by some unseen force, leaving behind a pristine, glowing orb.
Huh? Why was this happening now? Or was this what always happened, and I was just catching sight of it for the first time?
It was as if just knowing about it was like a body finally recognizing an injury and going through the process of healing it. What a strange sensation.
But I couldn't dwell for too long on what was happening in my head because something important was happening outside, too.
The humanoid owl swayed, its feet uneven, and it looked like it would fall at any moment. Unintelligible moans escaped its beak, drool dripping down as it slumped to the ground. It was as if its mind had forgotten how to do even the most basic things. The once intelligent and cunning creature now seemed lost in a fog of confusion, its arms hanging limply at its sides as if it could no longer use the human-like appendages.
A technique that could relatively easily change the memories of an opponent's mind was bound to have a very heavy drawback.Now, the question was whether this drawback was permanent or temporary. I hoped for the latter, as losing the only time I had a lucky encounter would be a shame.
This was probably the only lucky encounter I was getting for the rest of my life!
But before I could grieve my lost opportunities, the whole tower rumbled. For a second, I was afraid it might come crashing down. My worries, however, were unfounded as an explosion of Qi erupted from the entrance of the third floor. Out of the swirling energy stepped the librarian. His presence radiated power, his robes billowing as if caught in an unseen wind. The air crackled with the force of his arrival, and I could feel the intense aura of his Qi even from a distance.
He no longer wore his glasses; his eyes were intense, bloodshot, and rage-filled. His usually calm and collected demeanor was replaced with raw, seething anger that seemed to fuel the Qi swirling around him.
I could understand his fury; I too would be angry if someone had tampered with my mind, leaving me with gaps in my memories.
When his eyes landed on the owl, his gaze was filled with murderous rage. Without hesitation, he approached the owl-like monstrous beast, each step deliberate and heavy with intent. The air seemed to grow colder with every step he took, the Qi around him pulsating in response to his anger.
"First of all, I think we should all calm down," I said, clapping my hands to bring the librarian's attention from the owl, even if it was only for a split second. That split second was all I needed. "I was the one who released you from your mind control. Well, not really mind control, but you know what I mean. Who knows what else he did with the confusion array."
"Confusion array? I fell victim to a confusion array?" The librarian looked ashamed, with a trace of embarrassment tainting his features.
I quickly explained to him what had roughly happened to him. Regarding my fight with the owl, I didn't go into much detail beyond how my opponent's technique had backfired.
While explaining that, I kept an eye on the humanoid owl. Just in case his technique's backlash was really only temporary. But that didn't seem to be the case, as he was still a drooling mess.
"Damn, I still lied to the Sect Leader," the librarian cursed under his breath, seeming to let out his emotions a lot more than usual. It was expected since it would have been weirder if he were calm after someone messed with his mind. "I will kill this disgusting monstrous beast immediately!"
But in the end, no matter his feelings, his rage took over as he glared at the drooling monstrous beast.
He mentioned the Sect Leader, meaning that the Sect Leader had visited this library at some point in the near past. It was safe to assume that he already knew what would happen. He may have even bet on me taking over the inheritance.
The librarian approached the owl with a murderous look in his eyes. But before he could do anything, I stopped him. "Wait a second, I'm still trying to figure out what to do with him. Also, you shouldn't waste time on this; concentrate on the arrays around the library. This monstrous beast you seem to be hating so easily actually had control over many of those arrays, so make sure that doesn't happen again."
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The librarian turned his hateful gaze toward me when he heard me say that. But the rage melted away relatively fast, and he took a deep breath.
"You're right," he admitted and closed his eyes.
Immediately, I felt the Qi around him shimmering, the energy pulsating in waves that made the air hum with power. The arrays began shifting again, their intricate patterns rearranging with a series of audible clanks and clicks. It was as if the very fabric of the tower was responding to his thoughts, aligning itself with his intent. The sound grew louder, echoing through the halls.
Good, he had returned to his usual self. Xin Ma, known as "the librarian" by most, was generally a calm person. So, he had no difficulty calming down and seeing things through a rational eye once again. It was expected that someone who had lived so long would be able to gain control of his emotions so smoothly.
He was one of the people I respected in this world. Unlike many cultivators who get lost in arrogance after they reach a certain stage of influence, the librarian was still a rational man. I was sure he would have been a big shot from the inner sect if he was not stuck in this library.
With the librarian dealt with for now, my glare returned to the drooling owl.
The million-dollar question was whether the owl would recover from this. The answer was—very unlikely. Mental damage wasn't something that could be healed so easily.
If I needed the inheritance, my only choice would have been to imprison the owl and wait for him to come to his senses.
But as I thought of that, I recalled the times when the owl had been of sound mind.
What would leaving him to come to his senses even achieve? Except restart this whole process again. I doubted he would just hand over the inheritance. Also, I wasn't into torture.
It was a hard choice between curiosity and my rational mind. But, in the end, leaving him alive would be a huge risk. It was different letting him use his technique on me when I had everything under control, and it was a whole other deal when he could escape and return for revenge. I couldn't keep an eye on him all the time.
What a shame. If the owl had been more approachable and shared parts of the inheritance as an apology for doing this to the librarian, I would have let him live. We could have even forged a friendship.
But such things were no longer an option. Events had already played out, and the past couldn't be changed. I had already learned enough from this ordeal.
Gently, I placed my hand on the shoulder of the drooling owl, his feathers damp with blood and unkempt. At my touch, his body convulsed, shuddering violently as if caught in a tempest of unseen forces. Using my Falling Moon Claw Technique, I summoned a whirlwind of invisible wind blades that danced around him, tearing at his form with surgical precision.
Before even a single drop of blood could escape and touch the stone ground, I transferred the entire corpse—every feather, every unseen drop of blood—into my storage ring.
This awoke the librarian from his deep-seated concentration, and he opened his eyes and stared at me.
"Don't let your guard down again. Just because you have control of the library's arrays doesn't make you invincible," I warned him.
The librarian nodded. Now with his source of anger gone, he had returned to his usual self; his face betrayed nothing, and he looked calm and collected.
He stared at me briefly before saying, "You're a good kid, Liu Feng."
"Thanks?" I answered, unsure why he would say something like that out of nowhere. There was a better time and place to talk about how I was a good guy.
"Just make sure you don't let yourself get corrupted by… bad company," the librarian said in a melancholic tone.
He definitely meant Song Song.
Though I wasn't sure if this was the best time to have a conversation like this, I still responded.
"People change as they grow up and adapt to the circumstances around them," I said, glancing around to see if anyone else noticed the third floor's arrays. I sensed no one approaching the library, at least no one strong. But I wasn't sure if that meant much when anyone overwhelmingly powerful could slip past my senses. "Also, why are you saying these kinds of words as if you're about to die at any moment?"
"I probably will," the librarian sighed, clearly having already resigned himself to whatever fate he imagined. "After all, I lied to the Sect Leader straight to his face."
Oh, that was quite a big deal.
I recalled the image of his solitary figure, seated imperiously on a golden throne that seemed to radiate an aura of nonchalance. His posture was relaxed, almost dismissive, starkly contrasting the gravity of the situation around him. Even as the Beast Wave was smashing against all the cities that the Blazing Sun Sect controlled, hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of people, died due to that as whole towns were destroyed! But this man who was in charge of everything seemed nonchalant about it.
I had met the Sect Leader, and he didn't seem like the kind of guy who would care about these things. If the Sect Leader didn't like people lying to him, why had he surrounded himself with snakes from the inner sect? Clearly, he didn't care if liars lied straight to his face.
I opened my mouth and was about to reassure him when another voice interrupted me.
"Don't worry, the Sect Leader won't do anything."
I turned toward the staircase and saw the elderly janitor's face staring back. His usual hunched figure was even more pronounced under the dim, flickering lights of the hallway. Shadows danced around his weathered face, accentuating every wrinkle and crevice.
He was using his broom to stand up, gripping it tightly as if it were a staff of power rather than a simple cleaning tool. His eyes, usually nonchalant and jesting, were piercing and intent, locking onto mine with an intensity I hadn't seen before.
This time, it wasn't just my baseless suspicion; he actually looked like someone influential, someone who held secrets and knowledge far beyond his humble appearance. The air around him seemed to thrum with an almost tangible energy, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
How could some simple janitor say such words so confidently?
It seemed like my suspicions were finally proved correct.
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