Chapter 4
It was not an ordinary scream, but the scream of a being who felt the very foundation of his life being torn apart piece by piece, and in Ling Xu's ears, it sounded like the collapse of a palace.
"He has been poisoned," suddenly a foreign voice appeared within Ling Xu's mind—not his own voice, nor a whisper of the heart, but a clear, mature, and calm voice like the surface of a lake at midnight.
"Who?!" Ling Xu asked loudly, unconsciously speaking to empty air.
"I am the consciousness of the Star of Humanity that you hold within your chest," the voice replied, "and you must listen to me now if you do not wish for this man to die before you."
Ling Xu fell silent.
He wanted to argue, wanted to shout that he did not care if that human died—that he wanted to see all humans die slowly just as his mother once did.
But there was something in the way that voice spoke that made him fall quiet.
"That poison is called One Land, Two Skies, Three Authorities," the consciousness of the Star of Humanity continued, "so deadly that almost every caster will suffer the same fate as their opponent. That is why this technique is rarely used—because collective suicide is not a popular strategy."
Ling Xu stared at Huan Zheng, whose body was now half-covered in black moss, his eyes beginning to empty as if gazing into another realm.
"This poison destroys every level of cultivation ever attained," the voice whispered more softly, "one by one, from the highest to the lowest. And if not stopped, it will destroy the victim's Star of Singularity or Star of Humanity. This man will become an ordinary human—without power, without identity, without anything but the title of a former cultivator that holds almost no meaning."
Ling Xu sat down on the ground, which was beginning to darken from the poison dripping from Huan Zheng's body, his lips tightening sharply as he listened to the suggestion from the Star of Humanity's consciousness within his chest.
"Breaking my Star of Humanity into a hundred fragments? And giving forty-nine of them to him?" his voice rose half an octave, his eyes narrowing toward the man lying helpless before him—his body now almost entirely covered in black moss, with only his face remaining, pale like a melting wax statue.
"Do you know who he is? He's human! The same kind of savage who slaughtered my mother!"
The Star's consciousness did not respond with emotion, only with patience that was somehow even more irritating.
"I am not asking you to do this out of love, Ling Xu. I am asking you to do it out of logic. If he dies, the only bridge to the mastermind behind your tragedy will be severed. If he lives as an ordinary human, he is useless to you. But if he lives as a Lower Star cultivator—like you—then you can walk together toward the answer you seek."
Ling Xu clenched his fists, his nails nearly piercing his palms.
"And what do you gain from this?" he asked coldly.
"I am the Star of Humanity," the voice answered, "my purpose is to survive. And by having two connected hosts, my chances of continuing to exist increase."
Ling Xu let out a bitter laugh.
"At least you're honest. Fine. Teach me the ritual."
And so began a dance Ling Xu had never imagined he would perform for a human.
He stood before Huan Zheng, who lay helpless, his palms pressed together before his chest, then slowly—just as instructed by the whisper in his mind—he moved his fingers, forming streams of light in the air.
The Star of Humanity within his chest pulsed violently, then cracked.
Not shattered, but split into a hundred small fragments of light that scattered around him like golden fireflies in the darkest night.
"Forty-nine for you," Ling Xu murmured, his eyes half-closed, and the fragments began to move in a circular formation, surrounding Huan Zheng's dying body, then one by one entering his chest.
Not like piercing, but like rain seeping into dry soil.
Huan Zheng, amid the burning pain consuming his entire body, suddenly opened his eyes wide.
Because through the black fog of poison that nearly claimed his life, he saw something: Ling Xu, with white, multicolored-streaked hair flowing without wind, surrounded by golden light, dancing.
Not an ordinary dance—but a graceful, ancient, and sacred dance, like the dances of goddesses before the Conflict of Harmony.
"You…" Huan Zheng whispered, his voice hoarse, "you are a goddess…"
Ling Xu did not respond.
He only continued to dance, because if he stopped, the ritual would fail, and everything he sacrificed would be in vain.
Throughout the ritual, the consciousness of the Star of Humanity continued whispering in Ling Xu's inner hearing, explaining every consequence in a flat tone like a teacher instructing a stubborn student.
"When this ritual is complete, forty-nine fragments of your Star of Humanity will reside within Huan Zheng's body as part of his Star Foundation. They will act as a barrier—separating the poison of One Land, Two Skies, Three Authorities that has infected his Star of Humanity, ensuring that he continues to exist as a cultivator."
Ling Xu bit his lower lip—he could feel each fragment of light leaving his body like pieces of flesh being torn away.
"But the consequence," the voice continued, "is that whatever happens to you will also affect him. And whatever happens to him will affect you—though you will only feel fifty percent of what he experiences."
Huan Zheng opened his eyes, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, he could breathe without burning pain.
His body was still weak, but within his chest, the forty-nine fragments of Ling Xu's Star of Humanity pulsed strangely yet warmly—like an uninvited guest who happened to bring a blanket on a cold night.
"I… can return to the Leg of Humanity realm," he murmured softly, his eyes narrowing toward the dusk sky, "perhaps even… control the poison of One Land, Two Skies, Three Authorities as a defensive foundation."
He clenched his fist, feeling strength slowly returning to his fingertips, then turned toward Ling Xu, who was still kneeling, out of breath.
"Thank you," he said, and for a moment, his tone was sincere.
"I will remember your contribution and your fate, little goddess."
Ling Xu merely snorted, not replying, as he was too exhausted to care.
But in the very next second, without warning, without any change in expression—Huan Zheng struck.
A blade of energy formed from his newly recovered Qi shot toward Ling Xu's neck, arm, and chest—three slashes in a single breath, like a serpent that bites without ever hissing.
"What—?!"
Ling Xu rolled to the side, her waist cut, blood spraying—but she survived.
"Are you insane?!" she shouted, her eyes wide.
Huan Zheng smiled, and that smile was no longer warm.
"Not insane, goddess. Smart. The fifty-one fragments of your remaining Star of Humanity… will be far more useful in my hands."
Ling Xu gritted her teeth.
She could feel Huan Zheng—who should have been in the same Lower Star Foundation realm—now surging upward, surpassing limits, leaving her behind like a bird that suddenly learned to fly higher than it should.
"You've neutralized the consequence, haven't you?" Ling Xu hissed, clutching her wound.
Huan Zheng nodded arrogantly.
"Of course. I'm not that foolish."
But Huan Zheng did not know one thing.
Amid the ritual earlier, when the fragments of light scattered and he was mesmerized by Ling Xu's dance, the girl had infused something into the remaining fifty-one fragments in her possession.
Not a prayer, not a spell—but poison.
Poison from ordinary herbs that grew along Ling Xu's journeys, which for years she had gathered, refined, and hidden beneath her fingernails.
A poison that was not fatal to powerful cultivators, but deadly to those who had just survived death.
To be continued…