NABC 229. Shadow Soldiers
229. Shadow Soldiers
“Sorry,” Jin Shu shook his head. “It’s still a no.”She said nothing more.
Her four bodies vanished—only to reappear beside each one of his souls and Long Xue Ling.
The four Wang Yues mirrored each other's movement, casually reaching forward a single finger, they tapped a vital point on each of them.
Unable to resist—they exploded.
A heartbeat later, portions of the surrounding forest detonated as well, and from the drifting debris, their bodies instantly regrew.
They fought back.
Long Xue Ling coiled around the blue-eyed Wang Yue, its hundreds-of-meters-long body crushing down on the dainty young woman. Yet no matter how tightly it constricted, its efforts were futile, and were simply unable to deal the slightest damage to her.
“Roar!” The sound was thick with fury and helplessness.
The blue-eyed Wang Yue merely flexed her shoulders, giving a small shrug.
Long Xue Ling exploded into dust, then regrew once more, at the expense of a distant mountain range.
Gold cycled through weapon after weapon, exhausting every option he had. Nothing worked. Nothing even slowed the red-eyed Wang Yue.
Not high-powered rifles capable of ripping through tank armor, or gatling guns which spit thousands of burning rounds.
Even when he pulled out a heavily buffed railgun—one powerful enough to blast meteors into space dust—all it managed to do was tear her sleeve.
She didn’t like that.
A scowl crossed her face as she ripped his arms off in retaliation. They regrew, and he continued fighting as if nothing had happened.
Shuang called upon the full force of his elemental affinities, pushing his combat abilities beyond the Immortal Realm they were mimicking. Fire scorched, lightning lashed, water crushed, and wind tore at the white-eyed Wang Yue.
And yet, it was useless.
Her dispassionate gaze never wavered as she walked calmly through the storm of attacks. Letting fire lick at her feet, lightning course harmlessly through her body, water wash over her as if she were an immovable mountain, and wind brush past her. She stopped in front of him and tapped his chest with a single finger.
His body burst into fragments, followed by a section of the forest behind him.
Then he reformed from thin air.
In his giant form, Jin Shu swatted at the violet-eyed Wang Yue—but she caught his massive hand with a single fingertip, stopping it cold.
“What realm of cultivation are you even at?” he demanded.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she replied calmly, “even if we sat here for years while I explained it.”
Her eyes flicked toward the others.
“And you don’t have that long. An hour at most.”
Mountains shattered. Forests vanished. Explosions rippled across the land, leaving behind vast stretches of barren earth.
Despite their full effort, the greatest damage they had inflicted on Wang Yue was a torn sleeve.
And that was only on one of her split bodies.
Jin Shu placed a hand over his chest, where the life-giving rune was inscribed. It was the only thing he hadn’t tried—largely because he had no idea what it actually did. He’d carved it as a memento, nothing more.
But ever since then, he’d had the feeling it might matter someday.
This just might be that day.
Sending a quick mental message, he called the others to him. He shrank back to his normal size; his giant form had proven just as useless as everything else.
Long Xue Ling hastily summoned a pure-light trapping formation to block Wang Yue and her three bodies. It wasn’t meant to be defensive, but it could be repurposed in an emergency.
Wang Yue tapped it once.
The formation shattered like glass.
Blocking with its body, Long Xue Ling placed itself between the four women and Jin Shu’s souls.
It was torn, shredded, blasted, and eviscerated in an instant—four separate attacks landing at once.
Jin Shu, Shuang, and Gold activated the life-giving rune simultaneously, clinging to the hope that it might finally turn the tide.
Light erupted from their chests as the skull tattoos there flared a bloody red. The crimson glow streamed outward, gathering behind them and coalescing into human shapes.
Jin Shu glanced over his shoulder at Shuang’s back.
Several men stood there.
He vaguely recognized them—the assassins who had attacked during their trip to the capital, the demonic worshippers who had ambushed Biyu in the forest, and the cultivators who assaulted Sun Li’s ship.
When he turned toward Gold, he froze.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of figures stood in perfect formation behind him, ranks upon ranks arranged with military precision. The fifty men in matching military gear at the front raised their hands in salute.
“Lieutenant Jin!” they shouted in unison.
They were Gold’s soldiers from Earth.
Alpha Platoon.
Jin Shu turned last, glancing behind himself.
An old, single-eyed ghoul stood there, staring blankly into the distance.
“That’s it?” Jin Shu muttered.
“It seems the life-giving rune manifests those who died near us,” Shuang said slowly, uncertain. “Or perhaps… those whose deaths we were responsible for in some way?”
“Sure, but why did I only get the old ghoul? I also killed those bandits with him.”
“Didn’t Jiao kick each of them?” Shuang asked. “Maybe those kills counted as his.”
“He stole my kills?!”
Wang Yue cut into their exchange.
“What is this?” she asked, incredulity flashing across her face.
“Did you just resurrect dead souls?” the white-eyed Wang Yue asked, her blank expression cracking for the first time.
“No… they aren’t truly alive,” the blue-eyed Wang Yue said.
“They are shadows—memories given form,” the red-eyed Wang Yue concluded.
Wang Yue’s gaze returned to Jin Shu.
“How is it that you keep surprising me?” she asked.
“I surprise myself,” Jin Shu replied with a shrug.
He was about to order his shadow soldiers—a name he’d unconsciously adopted from the Wang Yues’ discussion—when she waved her hand like a blade.
An invisible arc of energy swept through Jin Shu, his souls, and the ranks of shadow soldiers behind them.
Everyone was severed at the waist.
Jin Shu, Shuang, and Gold reformed moments later. The shadow soldiers did not.
Jin Shu considered activating the life-giving rune again—but the futility of it settled quickly.
“Can’t you go a bit easier?” he asked weakly. “At least give me a sliver of hope…”
“This is me going easy,” she replied.
“Oh.”
She smiled softly. “Still going to resist?”
He exhaled. “I really want to. But I’ve used everything.”
“Then,” she asked calmly, “which soul should I seal?”
There truly was nothing left.
But—
“You know,” Jin Shu said slowly, “I’ve noticed you keep asking me to willingly hand over one of my souls. Enough that it made me wonder—can you only seal a soul if it consents?”
Wang Yue sighed. “You’re right. A soul must be willing—if I choose to do it painlessly.”
Her smile didn’t fade. “There is another way. But it’s so painful that even gods and demons scream. Some break. Some never recover.”
“I’d rather avoid that,” she added gently. “Wouldn’t you?”
Cold sweat ran down Jin Shu’s back. Being blown apart had been agony—but whatever she was describing sounded far worse.
“I’m willing,” Shuang said, stepping forward.
Jin Shu opened his mouth to stop him—but nothing came out.
“You already know it has to be me,” Shuang said quietly. “I was never meant to exist. I’m just a remnant—born from the splintering of your and Gold’s souls.”
“Fine,” Jin Shu agreed. “But you need to give me compensation.”
“Compensation?” she repeated, clearly confused.
“Yeah. It was your little brother who caused all of this, and from the sound of it, you were the one who gave him access to such a dangerous item.”
Her expression tightened. “That’s… true.”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Alright. How about a portrait of my mother?”
A painting of a beautiful woman appeared in midair. She resembled Wang Yue by eighty—no, ninety percent.
Jin Shu blinked. “Why the hell would I want that?!”
“Why wouldn’t you?” she asked, genuinely baffled. “My mother is one of the top ten beauties of our realm.”
“You two look almost identical,” he said. “Does that mean you’re also one of the top ten?”
He hadn’t meant anything by it—just idle curiosity.
Wang Yue nodded. “I am.”
“I see,” Jin Shu muttered. It tracked. They had that kind of beauty—ordinary at first glance, but the longer you looked, the more it seemed to pull at your soul.
“Either way,” he said, “I want something more… useful.”
“Hmm…” She tapped her chin. “Most of what I possess is far too powerful for you to use. Are you sure you don’t want the portrait?”
“Positive.”
“You possess many elemental affinities,” she said. “How about I share mine with you?”
That caught his attention.
“Which affinities do you control?”
“Earth and space.”
“Space is an element…?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Though it’s inaccessible within your world. You’d need to advance to a higher existence—to what you call the Immortal Realm.”
She paused, then added dryly, “You mortals really should reconsider your naming conventions. You call the world above yours the Immortal Realm, while also calling the cultivation required to reach it the Immortal Realm.”
He shrugged. That wasn’t his problem.
“I’ll share the earth element with you.” She extended her hand, a small stone resting in her palm. “Integrate this into your soul space and you’ll gain foundational insights into earth.”
He took the stone, a spark of satisfaction flickering through him—until reality caught up.
“Wait. This isn’t enough.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Explain.”
“I could eventually gain earth-element insights on my own,” he said evenly. “I’m about to permanently lose a piece of myself. My cultivation may suffer irreversible damage. This isn’t adequate compensation.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she warned.
“I’m not,” he replied seriously. “But this still isn’t enough.”
She studied him for a moment.
“Fine. But this is all you get.”
She reached into her robes—
And paused when a voice echoed through Jin Shu’s soul space.