Chapter 53: Seed Spark of the Evil God (Part 6)

“Lily… Lily…”

Calling out her name, Cloud Che’s heart clenched into a fist. The intensity of the poison surging through her veins surpassed the last time four months ago—by a factor of ten, at least. For the previous time, she’d only dismantled two Spirit Profound realms, leaving her writhing in agony. This time, she’d obliterated a true dragon of the Divine Profound realm in a single strike! The depth of the Mystic Force he’d wielded was worlds apart.

Lily would understand the consequences of slaying that inferno dragon. Yet she dared not refrain—for if she did, Cloud Che would perish. And if Cloud Che died, she’d surely follow.

The crushing guilt tore at Cloud Che’s chest like blades. During their passage into the dragon’s lair, Lily had pleaded with him three times, emphasizing that the dragon’s treasures bore mystical seals, impossible to claim without peril. Yet he pressed on, unyielding. He possessed the courage and resolve, yes—but in some unseen way, he’d overlooked one truth: he was no longer the dominion-dominating Cloud Che of old, merely a fledgling at the fourth level of Spiritual Profundity, facing a beast of divine terror. A single misstep would doom him, and drag Lily down with him.

Such was the fate that had unfolded.

“I’m sorry, Lily… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have ignored you, I shouldn’t have been so reckless…”

Feeling her body’s transformation through his trembling hands, Cloud Che’s grip tightened. He murmured apology upon apology, yet none could undo what had been done.

Lily’s lips twitched, barely audible.

Her form grew colder, slipping into a translucent haze.

Though her body lingered as a half-formed echo of Cloud Che’s life force, it was the vessel of her soul. Should this shell vanish, her essence would scatter, consumed entirely by the poison’s maw.

“Lily!!! Lily!!!”

Cloud Che bit his teeth, his left hand straining to purge the poison from the Heavenly Poison Bead, his right shaking her body with desperate urgency, yearning for even a flicker of awareness. At last, her pallid lips parted once more. He blinked, then pressed his ear to her lips—

“I… don’t… want… to… die… I haven’t… avenged… mother… and brother… I haven’t… slaughtered… them… I don’t… want… to… die…”

Her voice was a whisper, so faint even at such proximity. Yet it tore through his heart like a blade.

Four months prior, when Lily first stood before him, he’d sensed an uncanny familiarity—a resonance akin to his younger self. Petite in age, stunning in beauty, yet claiming princedom, raised in adoration. Yet her eyes held perpetual frost, her face unmoving when she killed—no trembling, no remorse, only merciless coldness.

Now he understood: that familiar echo was hatred.

On the Chi Yun continent, for seven years after his master’s death, hatred had festered in his heart. His gaze, his cruelty, his indifference—they mirrored Lily’s. But he’d been seventeen then, a man. Lily… she was only thirteen. He couldn’t fathom what hatred had warped an angelic girl into a demon.

In her fractured mutterings, she’d abandoned “Princess” for “I.” This revelation stirred something complex within him. For her voice, now nearly silent, came from the depths of her soul. The title “Princess” had been a deliberate shield, a mantra to anchor her humanity.

A strange kinship bloomed in his heart—her suffering mirrored his own. Guilt and regret surged, and he shook her more fiercely, shouting: “Lily, wake up! Don’t let yourself slip away! We made a pact—you granted me new Meridian lines, I owe you—haven’t I fulfilled my promise yet? Do you really want to leave like this? And you’re my master, yet you’ve taught me nothing! You’re a failure as a teacher! Wake up, wake up!!!”

But his frantic efforts, his desperate shaking, his desperate invocation of the Bead’s power—nothing stirred her. Her face had lost its final hue, her body growing ever more insubstantial. He could still feel her, yet through her chest, the ground’s gravel beneath was visible.

A chill gripped his marrow, his teeth nearly cracking from the cold. He punched his own brow—pain flared, but not enough to ease his torment. *Blame her. Why didn’t you heed her words? Your life isn’t yours alone—it’s intertwined with Lily’s. In the end, she’d die to save you. You killed her!!*

He cursed himself, his battered brow weeping blood onto the scorching earth. Watching the droplets vanish, he paused: “Blood… my blood!!”

Lily had bound herself to him through his blood, her form sustained by his life force. His body, fused with the Bead, now pulsed with potent antidote properties.

A glimmer of hope ignited. Without hesitation, he tore his arm open, a jagged wound bleeding freely. He parted her lifeless lips, letting his blood trickle into her mouth, pressing his shoulder to hasten the flow.

“Lily… I won’t let you die. Not ever.”

Even if it meant repaying the vow he’d sworn that year…

Blood poured into her mouth. Soon, crimson beads spilled from her corners—she couldn’t swallow, her consciousness gone.

Cloud Che’s brow furrowed. After a heartbeat, he lifted his arm, biting his wound, sucking greedily. When he’d drawn half his blood, he leaned close, parting her lips again: “If you wake… I’ll endure any punishment.”

His lips brushed hers, transferring blood slowly, breathing gently to guide it deeper. Her lips, ghostly white, were luxuriously soft—he chafed against restraint. One mouthful, then back to his wound, sucking, then another pass.

After several cycles, his arm’s wounds began to knit. He tore another slash, blood flowing anew.

By the fifth wound, nearly a fifth of his blood coursed into her. His vision swam—then he noticed her form solidifying, the poison’s aura dimming like extinguished flames.

Success… succeeded?!

Joy surged. Without pause, he carved the sixth wound. His arm went numb, but his heart soared—if his blood could save her, he’d give it all.

Human blood loss exceeding a fifth of total volume causes organ failure; over a third brings collapse; half means death.

Cloud Che, versed in supreme medical arts, knew this. Yet his hands moved swift, unflinching, carving more wounds.

Until his brain’s crushing vertigo claimed him, his vision blanking as he slumped against the stone wall.

In the fog of unconsciousness, a girl surfaced—never meant to be remembered, yet impossible to forget.

Seven years of hatred, he’d trained relentlessly, his body scarred daily, gasping for breath. Each return to her side, she’d tended his wounds, fed him, mended his clothes, smoothed his bed. Then, silently, she’d watch him depart.

She’d been his sole warmth, his only solace.

But his heart held only hatred. Never once had he lingered, never bought her a hairpin, never promised a thing, never smiled.

Until the day she lay in his arms, gone forever. Her final gaze, her voice—etched into his soul as an unhealing wound.

“…How many wounds on your body… how many in my heart… But I don’t regret it… To be the girl who stays with you in solitude… Even in pain… it’s a blessing…”

“…Cloud Che brother… If you’re lonely someday… and a girl wishes to stay by your side… She’ll be the angel sent by heaven… Don’t let her get hurt… okay…?”

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【He who possesses Lily shall possess the world!!】