Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Tide of Resentment erupted from beneath the Sacrificial Altar.

Countless black arms clawed their way out of the seabed silt, lunging at Shang Wujiu in a frenzied swarm. He raised his sword to meet them, his sword intent surging with such force that it carved a white line through the seawater. Suddenly, a massive Ghost Head lunged from the depths of the rift, its jaws clamping down hard on his blade.

The impact forced Shang Wujiu back half a step.

That half-step was all the Ghost Head needed to crush his throat.

But the chains suddenly snapped taut. Li Jinxue had forcibly shattered one of the Soul-Binding Chains, throwing herself forward to shield him.

The Ghost Head’s teeth sank deep into her shoulder.

Blood bloomed in the water, a piercing, vivid crimson.

Shang Wujiu froze for a fraction of a second before instinctively pulling her into his arms. With a sharp twist of his longsword, he cleaved the Ghost Head in two. The seals around the Sacrificial Altar flickered violently under the shockwaves, yet Li Jinxue merely leaned against him in silence, as if long accustomed to the pain. She didn’t even let out a whimper.

“Are you mad?” he hissed. “Why did you block that for me?”

Li Jinxue’s eyelashes trembled, but her expression remained calm to the point of numbness. “If I didn’t, it would have hurt you.”

Shang Wujiu’s heart tightened. “What do you mean by that?”

She didn’t answer.

The tremors on the seabed grew more violent; the seals were on the verge of collapse. While cutting down the resentful spirits, Shang Wujiu worked to free her from the Sacrificial Altar. The Soul-Binding Chains seemed to possess a will of their own; once separated from the altar, they constricted wildly, biting into her wrists until the gashes reached the bone.

For the first time, he realized there wasn’t a single patch of healthy skin on her body.

Her wrists, ankles, back, and collarbones were covered in a dense network of burn scars and lacerations. It was as if three hundred years of torture had been concentrated onto this one body.

As Shang Wujiu carried her out of the sea, she leaned against his shoulder and gave a soft, weak cough.

Dark blood stained his robes.

“Imperial Lord,” her voice was as faint as a breeze, “have you come this time to take my life again?”

Shang Wujiu’s footsteps faltered.

He knew he should loathe her. He should throw her back into the sea just as he had three hundred years ago. Yet, looking at the woman in his arms-weightless as a handful of ash-he was suddenly seized by an inexplicable sense of dread.

He brought her back to the shore and sealed off the entire sea.

When the Physician stepped forward to take over, Shang Wujiu saw an old covenant mark surface on her back. The patterns meandered upward, extending all the way to her empty chest. He knew that mark all too well.

It was identical to the Life Covenant on his own body-the very one that had kept him safe for three hundred years.