GD Ch. 65 Part 2

Chapter 65: Whose Fault Was It?

Because Zhuyou’s devilish thoughts persisted, Changying’s heart felt as though it were being corroded by devilish energy, nearly giving rise to delusions.

She knew Zhuyou was not meant to be like this. She should have been basking in divine light high in the heavens, wielding unparalleled spiritual power, and…

She should never have had to ask how to escape a mere Turbid Mirror.

Karma intertwined. Since Zhuyou could not return to the heavens, Changying herself nearly fell into the quagmire of delusion.

Changying clenched her teeth. Upon returning to the heavens, her seven po souls had been fully restored, but now it was damaged again. It felt as though both the hun and po souls might scatter to the winds.

Her gaze darkened. She thought to herself that she and Zhuyou were bound by fortune and misfortune. If she lost any of her souls, would Zhuyou also suffer the calamity of an incomplete soul?

Would Zhuyou reach the pinnacle of enlightenment after leaving the Turbid Mirror?

Would she?

Changying didn’t know. She didn’t know if this counted as Zhuyou enduring a trial. If it did, then that would be good.

She had personally brought Zhuyou into the Turbid Mirror to prevent her from being trapped and having her hun or po soul damaged. Yet, even after entering, something had still gone wrong—only this time, it was Changying who had suffered.

Changying tightened her grip on Zhuyou’s wrist, forcefully raising the hand that clutched the Devil Lord’s soul. Her strength was so great it seemed she might snap the slender wrist.

She released her clenched teeth. Though she was in unbearable pain, her voice was eerily calm. “If the Devil Lord returns, the human world will be the first to suffer, becoming a living hell.”

Zhuyou, seeing that Changying intended to seize the soul, struck out with a palm aimed at Changying’s chest.

The devil and the dragon were so close that Changying had no way to dodge. She took the blow head-on, blood immediately spurting from her mouth.

Yet Changying did not release her grip. Her eyes flickered slightly, her pale lips now stained crimson, adding a touch of color to her otherwise plain face.

“What does it have to do with me?” Zhuyou paused, taking a slow breath. “What does it matter?”

Such words from a devil should have been unsurprising, but Changying stubbornly believed that Zhuyou was never meant to be a devil.

“If I truly intend to take this soul out of the Turbid Mirror, what will you do?” Zhuyou raised her eyes, meeting Changying’s gaze.

Changying, overwhelmed by pain, was now in a daze. She thought to herself, what would she do? She could not disregard the Three Realms. If the Devil Lord truly awakened, she would simply kill him again.

Zhuyou’s heart grew cold. She turned her head away, unwilling to look at Changying any longer. Seeing Changying’s shoulders trembling in pain, she felt as though her own heart were being sliced open.

Changying did not respond. Her fingers had already turned Zhuyou’s hand red. She tilted her head back slightly, as if wanting to cry out, but her teeth remained clenched, her neck taut, appearing fragile.

Zhuyou clutched the wisp of soul, struggling internally. “You—”

Before she could finish, Changying suddenly transformed into her dragon form. Her massive claws seized Zhuyou, dragging her into the sea.

The Obsidian Dragon fell from the sky, crashing into the water. The waves surged toward the sun, but before they could even touch the clouds, they fell back into the sea.

With a thunderous roar, the sunlight that had once illuminated the sea with a sapphire glow was now nearly eclipsed by the massive shadow filling the water.

The darkness grew thicker as they sank deeper.

Zhuyou was trapped within the dragon’s claws. She could have broken free, but she chose not to. Her heart ached with a bitterness she couldn’t swallow or exhale.

Since falling into devilhood, she hadn’t felt such sorrow in a long time, and she wasn’t sure if this was what heartache truly felt like.

This dragon, now a Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens, seemed so fragile, as if she could be torn apart like a sheet of paper.

As they plunged into the sea, the cold enveloped her, reminiscent of her first descent into Cold Eye. But this time, a dragon shielded her from the icy currents.

Changying sank to the depths of Cold Eye, crashing heavily onto the barren, oat-covered ground.

Fortunately, Cold Eye was not as fragile as Shenhua Mountain. It didn’t crack into jagged ravines upon impact.

When she hit the ground, Changying released her claws and lay sprawled, motionless, as if lifeless.

***

Zhuyou crawled out from the dragon’s grasp and looked up. Above, fish and shrimp swam freely, the seawater as clear as jade.

After all this, they had returned to Cold Eye, but now it was a thousand years in the past.

Beside her, the dragon lay still, her massive head resting on the ground, golden eyes tightly shut, her breathing ragged.

A century ago, Zhuyou had deliberately straightened this dragon and placed her by her side. Now, the dragon had done it herself.

Changying’s eyes remained closed, her skull still feeling as though it were being sawed apart. Yet, she feared the devil beside her might vanish at any moment. Her eyelids trembled before finally cracking open slightly.

Zhuyou stood nearby, looking down at her, as if transported back a hundred years to when Changying, as a child, had lain on the ground in agony. Back then, Zhuyou had scooped her up and gently placed her on a soft bed.

And now?

Would it be the same now?

Changying’s golden eyes flickered, half-open, as a heavy breath escaped her throat. She tried to rise, only to collapse again, flattening the wild grass beside her into a pancake.

Zhuyou clenched her fingers, securing the wisp of the Devil Lord’s soul before tucking it into her sleeve.

She glanced down at the Obsidian Dragon beside her, silent for a long time. Seeing the dragon struggle to move even an inch, she finally bent down, her emotions in turmoil, and placed her hand on the massive dragon’s head.

The dragon’s scales were rough and sharp, their edges like overlapping blades.

Changying stared at her, a low rumble emanating from her throat.

Zhuyou wanted to see if the dragon’s soul was truly injured. To her surprise, Changying offered no resistance, laying her soul bare before her.

Just as she had a century ago, Changying remained unchanged. It was as if Changying didn’t understand the treachery of a devil’s heart, showing not a hint of wariness.

Zhuyou saw Changying’s soul, dark as ink, yet distinctly different from that of a devil.

A devil’s soul, though also dark, was cunning and deceitful, often disguised to appear like any other. But Changying’s soul shimmered with a golden light, much like her black-and-gold robes, exuding an air of nobility.

It was clear to Zhuyou that Changying’s soul was indeed injured.

The Devil Lord had struck the fragment of her po soul that had been attached to the golden pearl a thousand years ago. That single sword strike had wounded her present self.

It seemed that the fragment of her po soul from a millennium ago had not been preserved intact, and now, Changying had to endure the pain of a torn soul.

Zhuyou frowned. She saw that Changying’s soul was still there, but it was thin and frail, marked with cracks. As she withdrew her hand, she realized her fingers were trembling.

She had never intended to hurt this dragon. It was only when she rushed forward that the fragment of po soul in the golden pearl faltered, giving the Devil Lord an opening.

She had once wondered why she and Changying were bound by karma. Now she understood—it was because of the Turbid Mirror.

Was Changying in pain? Of course she was. Otherwise, she would have been full of questions, as if her mind were brimming with unresolved doubts.

Zhuyou, who had been bending over, eventually sat down on the grass, waiting in silence. She waited, but no words of apology came.

She was lost. If someone hadn’t framed her, she wouldn’t have fallen into devilhood, and Changying wouldn’t have been hurt.

In the end, whose fault was it?

Had she been wrong?

Changying lay on the ground, her eyes fixed on Zhuyou until she could no longer keep them open. With a low groan, her long tail thrashed, slamming into the ground and shaking Cold Eye violently.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. Suddenly, her massive jaws opened, revealing sharp, glistening fangs.

Her gaping maw could have swallowed dozens of people in one bite. The slender Zhuyou before her wouldn’t even fill the gaps between her teeth.

Zhuyou frowned, her pale hand reaching out from her sleeve toward the dragon’s chest.

She wanted Changying to lift the spell shielding her heart, so she could share half the pain. But before her fingers could touch the dragon’s sharp scales, a gust of breath from Changying’s open jaws sent her stumbling back.

The force pushed her several feet away.

Changying threw her head back and roared, the sound reverberating in Zhuyou’s ears.

Zhuyou climbed to her feet, raising her hand to block the fierce wind rushing toward her.

But when the wind reached her, it softened, as gentle as a spring breeze, incapable of harming her.

“Lift the spell,” Zhuyou called out. “Your po soul is riddled with cracks. Let me bear this pain for you.” Her silver hair whipped wildly in the wind, her sleeves billowing like mist.

Changying’s tail continued to thrash, her claws digging deep grooves into the ground.

Zhuyou took a step forward against the wind, her robes clinging to her body, even outlining her slender legs.

Changying’s golden eyes flickered open and shut, her roars ceasing. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Don’t come closer. If I lose control, I won’t be able to protect you.”