Chapter 42: Who Is the Demon Guiding Others with a Staff?

“Heh heh heh. Who do you think you’re fooling?” Han Ming sneered.

Ning Zhuo’s voice turned cold. “If you won’t cooperate, then I have no choice but to use force.”

With that, Ning Zhuo took out his tools from his robe.

They were mechanical needles of varying length and thickness.

“What are you planning to do to me?!” Seeing the young man with the child’s hairpin approach step by step, Han Ming panicked.

Ning Zhuo spoke as gently as he could. “Bear with it. Some of these needles are rather thick. It may hurt a little.”

A dozen or so mechanical puppets, each carrying several needles, climbed up Han Ming’s body.

“You old fiend, just kill me—ah!”

Han Ming’s body convulsed as she threw her head back with a blood-curdling scream. Her wails echoed through the cell, chilling to the bone.

Soon, needles were embedded throughout her body: joints, vital points, even her skull front and back bristled with over a dozen mechanical needles. The thinner ones were tolerable, but from the thicker ones, blood began to seep.

Ning Zhuo took a deep breath, and with a secret technique, began to manipulate the needles.

Large and small, the needles quivered and pulsed under his control—some swirling inside Han Ming’s body, others spinning at the surface.

“Ah—!” Han Ming’s shrieks rang out again, nearly splitting the eardrums of any listener. The agony twisted her body uncontrollably; her slender fingers clutched the cold, thick chains so tightly that her fingertips broke and bled, but even that pain was nothing compared to the torment of the needles.

Ning Zhuo focused all his will, calling upon the artifact that dwelled in his spiritual sea and dantian: the Imprint of Buddha’s Heart and Demon’s Shadow.

The talisman, as weighty as a mountain, rested in his spirit-sea; from one end, a demonic image began to emit a crimson glow.

That demonic radiance quickly suffused the mechanical needles, seeping into every part of Han Ming’s body.

In the next instant, a pink heart-shaped seal shot from Ning Zhuo and plunged directly into Han Ming’s heart.

Her screams faded, replaced by overwhelming terror.

She felt her body moving beyond her control, compelled to activate the Ninefold Soul-Devouring Technique!

“No, no!” Han Ming’s pupils contracted to pinpoints, but she could not stop.

Soon, as the technique reached a certain stage, it began to draw out the essence of Han Ming’s soul.

At that moment, Ning Zhuo let go and opened the Soul-Seizing Shuttle.

The Soul-Seizing Shuttle did not fall to the ground, but, under Han Ming’s own control, floated before her.

Then, its razor-sharp tip gently pierced her chest.

The artifact began its work.

Han Ming could never have imagined she would see this day!

The Soul-Seizing Shuttle, which had slaughtered thousands and brought disaster to countless victims, would one day be turned against its own master.

And the one wielding it was none other than herself!

The shuttle trembled faintly.

The essence of the soul that Han Ming had accumulated over a lifetime was purified and gradually drawn into the Soul-Seizing Shuttle.

As her soul essence approached the shuttle’s limit, the entire artifact began to emit a faint, icy light.

Moments later, the Soul-Seizing Shuttle, now full, returned to Ning Zhuo’s hand.

Han Ming’s face was deathly pale, her body limp as if her bones had been removed; she would have collapsed to the floor if not for the iron chains and hooks that kept her upright.

“What… what did you do to me?”

“What kind of sorcery is this?”

Han Ming raised her head in terror, staring at Ning Zhuo.

“Are you a disciple of the Shadow Phantom Sect? Was that the Great Bewitching Technique?”

“Or are you from the Cult of Enchantment? Did you use some kind of spell on me?”

“No, no… it’s not that, none of those…”

Her whole body trembled, her heart quaking, all her former confidence and defiance swept away.

Beneath his iron armor, two streams of blood trickled from Ning Zhuo’s nose.

The Imprint of Buddha’s Heart and Demon’s Shadow: to save oneself is to become Buddha, to use it on others is to become a demon.

Used alone, the imprint could influence a target of equal power, but only for a fleeting moment. Against a more powerful foe, its effect was weaker yet, and could only be used to subtly guide, never to forcibly alter.

But with the aid of the mechanical needles, the effect was greatly amplified.

Just now, Ning Zhuo had used the Heart Seal to command Han Ming to activate the Ninefold Soul-Devouring Technique and offer up her soul essence to him.

With the needles’ help, Han Ming obeyed—even against her will!

“In the mechanical treatise left by my mother, there are also cross-shaped, dry-shaped, and king-shaped control rods. Unfortunately, my cultivation is insufficient to use the more powerful ones.”

“For now, I can only use the simplest rod.”

Ning Zhuo’s mother had been a master of mechanical arts, and most of his expertise came from her secret records.

Control rods and puppet strings were the two mainstream ways to command mechanical constructs.

Just now, Ning Zhuo had treated Han Ming as a mere puppet.

Of course, even the king-shaped rod alone could not achieve this—unless Ning Zhuo’s cultivation far surpassed Han Ming’s, or his mastery of the mechanical arts increased a hundredfold.

What truly made the difference was the Imprint of Buddha’s Heart and Demon’s Shadow.

The method of combining these tools was something Ning Zhuo had discovered through his own experimentation.

The advantage was obvious, but the drawback was fatal: the subject would soon perish, reduced to a mere consumable.

Ning Zhuo did not rush to absorb the soul essence. Instead, he carefully examined Han Ming’s injuries.

“The technique you practice is quite impressive. Several parts of your body have begun to corpse-ify. That will help you last a little longer—excellent, truly excellent.” Ning Zhuo could not help but praise.

At these words, Han Ming could hold out no longer and fainted in fury.

Meanwhile—

Meng Chong rushed back to the City Lord’s mansion.

He went straight to the training hall, wasting not a moment, and began to disperse his cultivation.

Supreme innate talent: Thunderbolt Charge!

Lightning flickered across his body as his essence, energy, and spirit rapidly dwindled.

The thunder’s aid made dispersing his power astonishingly effective.

Sparks crackled in Meng Chong’s eyes as he called out in delight, “At this rate, by tomorrow I’ll have exhausted all my power and can start anew!”

“I understand now! I’ve learned it! Thunderbolt Charge is my greatest asset. From this day forward, I must charge ahead fearlessly, giving my all, dashing forward with abandon, holding nothing back!”

Meng Chong reveled in the joy of his breakthrough.

He discovered that the more single-mindedly he charged forward, the stronger Thunderbolt Charge became, and the more he mastered it.

“As I thought, the more I unleash my true nature, the more my talent manifests and grows!”

“Elder Sun, you are truly remarkable. Hahaha!”

In the underground cell—

Ning Zhuo paid no heed to the unconscious Han Ming.

He went to the next room, removed his armor, and holding the Soul-Seizing Shuttle, touched its other tip gently to his own skin.

At once, a stream of cool, gentle, pure soul energy flowed from the shuttle into his own soul.

Ning Zhuo staggered back a step, his pupils dilating as a wave of indescribable pleasure washed over him.

It felt as if he’d plunged into a cool lake on the hottest day of midsummer.

His soul essence soared, surpassing what he had accumulated in sixteen years, doubling in the blink of an eye!

Yet only half the soul essence in the shuttle had been used.

A few breaths later, the shuttle was empty; its faint glow faded completely.

“How wonderful, so wonderful.” Ning Zhuo felt invigorated, better than he had ever felt before.

Then, he sensed something strange.

His left arm was growing warm.

“What is this?”

Like Meng Chong, he was both startled and delighted. “My left arm is heating up—could my innate talent be awakening? Is it finally manifesting?”

Ning Zhuo’s heart beat eagerly.

If he could discover the trigger, he could cultivate and nurture that talent, until it fully emerged.

“What could be the cause?”

“Was it because I absorbed pure soul essence?”

“Or because I subdued a demon cultivator, punished evil, and upheld justice?”