Free Web NovelChapter 201: Chapter 197: Phase Soul Weaving Technique
Inside the crack at the center of the cocoon, the swirling patch of dark red was "staring" dead at Ian.
Ian could feel a cold, greedy Will, filled with endless fury, lock onto him.
No, it had locked onto the Void Anchor Stone inside his Dimension Ring.
"HISSS..."
Countless overlapping, inhuman shrieks exploded directly in Ian’s mind.
The main tentacle shot out like a black bolt of lightning, aiming straight for Ian’s face. It was so fast it left an afterimage.
Ian’s pupils constricted.
’I can’t dodge this!’
The Ring of Overlapping Peaks on his left wrist shone brightly, and three layers of Light Shields instantly stacked in front of him.
At the same time, he fully activated his Crystal Energy Barrier, recalling all seventy-two Floating Crystal Guards to weave a second Shield behind the Light Shields.
"KAW!" Gaga shrieked, leaping from Ian’s shoulder. With a flap of its wings, it stared at the tentacle with the full power of its Omen Eye.
The tentacle’s movement paused for a fraction of a second.
In that brief pause, Ian’s right hand had already pulled out his last Black Hole Potion and was clutching it tightly.
He didn’t throw it immediately. The Black Hole Potion’s range was too small; even if it blew up the tentacle, it might not damage the core.
The tentacle was only stopped for less than half a breath before it broke free from the Omen Eye’s interference and continued its assault.
PFFT! PFFT! PFFT!
The three Light Shields from the Ring of Overlapping Peaks were pierced like paper.
The tentacle slammed into the Crystal Guard Shield.
CRACK! CRACK!
The Crystal Guard Shield shook violently, its surface fracturing with spiderweb-like cracks.
The improved, Secondary Limit-Breaking version of the Crystal Energy Barrier, reinforced by seventy-two Floating Crystal Guards, had managed to withstand the blow.
The gaping maw at the tip of the tentacle was less than half a meter from Ian’s face.
Ian could even smell the foul stench wafting from it—a mixture of blood and rot.
His gaze was icy. "You really think I can’t hurt you?"
He extended his right index finger, a pinpoint of purple-white cold light—compressed to its absolute limit—stabbing fiercely into the side of the tentacle.
Frost Ash Beam: Ice and Fire Spiral, at maximum output!
PSSSH!
The cold light pierced the tentacle. The two energies of extreme cold and scorching heat clashed madly within it, annihilating each other in a series of explosions!
The tentacle trembled violently and let out a sharp hiss.
The area that was hit instantly froze on the outside, covered in a thick layer of white frost.
But the inside was seared by the high temperature, SIZZLING and emitting a black, acrid smoke.
Struck by the Ice and Fire Spiral, the tentacle convulsed violently.
The smell of burnt flesh and shards of ice burst from the wound. The creature hissed and retracted its appendage, which writhed at the opening like a wounded python.
Ian gasped for breath, a burning pain in his chest.
That last attack had consumed thirty percent of his Spiritual Power. The Crystal Barrier had mostly shattered, and thirty-two of his Floating Crystal Guards had been destroyed.
He was the only one left in the cavern.
The tide of threads no longer surged forward. Instead, it began to recede, pulling back into the cocoon strand by strand.
The facial outlines on the cocoon’s surface writhed even faster, their mouths opening and closing, creating a low buzzing sound.
Ian stared at the cocoon.
And the thing... was staring back at him.
Not with eyes, but in a more direct manner, like countless needles pressing against his skin—cold, viscous, and carrying the pressure of a Level Two Crystalized Wizard.
He found he couldn’t move.
He wasn’t paralyzed. His intuition screamed at him that if he tried to run, the main tentacle would pierce his back in the next instant.
Gaga landed back on his shoulder, its feathers bristling, its small eyes fixed on the cocoon.
"Ian... it’s got its eyes on you, kaw."
"I know."
Ian pulled a vial of Spirit Recovery Potion from his Dimension Ring, uncorked it, and poured it into his mouth.
A cooling sensation rushed to his head, and the shattered Crystal Guards began to slowly reassemble.
He made a grasping motion with his right hand, a Gravity Collapse Ball slowly forming in his palm. At the tip of his left index finger, the purple-white gleam of cold light shone once more.
"Gaga, we really can’t win this one. Get ready to run."
’A Level Two Crystalization... we’re a whole major Realm apart. Trying to fight it head-on with Potions and Witchcraft is suicide.’
But was he just going to stand here and wait to die?
A sharp glint appeared in Ian’s eyes. He was about to unleash one final, all-out attack and then flee.
The crack in the center of the cocoon suddenly split wider.
The swirling dark red within it looked like a thick, BUBBLING blood porridge.
Then, a beam of dark red light shot out from the crack.
The light twisted and wove itself in midair, forming lines of distorted Abyssal text.
It spread out in a dense, spiderweb-like pattern.
Next to the text was an image: a blurry humanoid figure wrapped in threads, its arms outstretched, with a glowing crystal embedded in its chest.
Ian’s pupils shrank.
’Is this... a contract?’
After months of siphoning power from it during his Meditation, he could barely make out the meaning of the words.
[By the final Will of the Soul Weaver Civilization... establish a binding contract...]
[Offer your Soul Mark... become a node in the weaving network... share in immortality...]
[Refuse... and be devoured...]
Below was a long, skin-crawling Rune Array with an empty space at its core.
It was clearly waiting for Ian to fill it with his Spiritual Mark.
A mandatory Soul Contract.
If he signed, he would become a "node" for this damnable thing, his life and death no longer his own.
If he didn’t, he would die right now.
Ian stared at the contract, his mind racing.
’This scene... feels a little familiar.’
He had encountered a forced contract before, when he absorbed the Eye of the Gazer.
In the end, his panel had directly devoured the thing’s core, converting it into pure Spiritual Power.
’This contract is also a soul-level item. The panel should also be able to...’
Before he could finish his thought, the text of the contract flared with brilliant light and, as if coming alive, shot toward the spot between his eyebrows!
"KAW!" Gaga shrieked, trying to block it with its wings.
But the light was too fast, instantly sinking into Ian’s forehead.
Ian’s entire body went rigid.
A BUZZ resounded in his head, as if countless needles had pierced his brain all at once.
Then, he "saw"... a series of flickering images.
In a vast plaza, countless humans with an extra eye on their foreheads were prostrated on the ground, worshipping an enormous silk cocoon in the sky...
[Soul Weaving... Soul Weaving...]
[Immortality... eternal life...]
Fanatical, chaotic, countless overlapping voices whispered deliriously, flooding into his consciousness like a tidal wave.
[The Will of the race... must not dissipate...]
[Merge... immortal...]
[Hunger... so hungry...]
The voices were filled with lament, madness, despair, and a cold, mechanical feeling.
Then, the voices suddenly stopped.
Ian’s consciousness was hazy. He only felt that the force surging into his mind froze the instant it touched a certain existence deep within his Sea of Spirit.
It froze solid.
The next second, all the delirious whispers turned into terrified shrieks.
[What... what is this...]
[I see it... haha... true immortality...]
[AH... NO!!!]
The voices stopped abruptly.
Ian’s vision went black, then flashed brightly again.
He "saw" the pale gold specks of light in his Sea of Spirit erupt.
They formed a giant net that completely enveloped the dark red light of the contract.
The light struggled frantically within the net, making a SIZZLING, corrosive sound, but it was useless.
The golden net tightened, crushing and purifying the light bit by bit...
Finally, it transformed into a fist-sized ball of Spiritual Power Origin, as pure as crystal, floating quietly in the center of his Sea of Spirit.
The entire process took less than three breaths.
From the cocoon came an utterly wretched shriek.
It wasn’t an ordinary sound, but the final wail of a dissipating soul.
The entire cavern began to collapse, stones crashing down with a RUMBLE.
The facial outlines on the cocoon’s surface exploded into a mist of blood. The threads snapped one by one, withering like burnt hair and falling as rustling Ashes.
The dark red Ancient Will Crystal at the cocoon’s center was exposed.
It was the size of a fist, its surface covered in vein-like patterns. It was pulsing frantically, its color dimming with each beat.
From within the crystal came a fragmented echo, the final resonance of an ancient civilization.
[The path of the Soul Weavers... has failed...]
[The collective Will... should not have touched the Abyss...]
[Those who come after... do not repeat our mistakes...]
The voice grew weaker and weaker until it vanished completely.
With a CRACK, the crystal split in two.
It fell to the ground and shattered into pieces, turning to dust.
The last bit of information transformed into a stream of light and, with a SWOOSH, shot toward Ian, entering the spot between his eyebrows.
Ian didn’t dodge. He couldn’t have dodged anyway.
The stream of light entered his body and rushed directly into his Sea of Spirit, colliding with the ball of Spiritual Power Origin.
The two masses of light merged and spun, finally stabilizing.
They turned into a fingernail-sized crystal with silver, thread-like patterns flowing slowly across its surface, suspended at the core of his Sea of Spirit.
At the same time, a huge amount of information, like a flood bursting through a dam, poured into Ian’s mind.
The Phase Soul Weaving Technique!
The ultimate Secret Technique researched by the ancient Soul Weaver Civilization in their pursuit of immortality.
It wasn’t about splitting the soul, but "weaving" a soul projection in an Otherworld that would grow in sync, providing double the time and double the rewards...
But it also came with a mountain of restrictions and risks.
Contractual shackles, energy consumption, phase contamination, exposure of one’s existence...
There was too much information; it made Ian’s head feel a bit swollen.
He shook his head, forcing himself to calm down.
The cavern was still collapsing. More and more stones were falling from the ceiling. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be buried here.
He rushed over to the edge of the altar.
The altar had already cracked, and the Void Anchor Stones on it were scattered everywhere.
With a sweep of his left hand, Ian collected all twenty-three remaining Anchor Stones into his Dimension Ring.
’With the five from before, that makes twenty-eight in total. It’s enough to build a much sturdier Abyssal Altar.’
At the center of the altar, beneath the black stone pillar, lay a palm-sized fragment of a Stone Slab.
Ian pried it out and glanced at it.
It was densely engraved with runes and patterns—a fragment of the Abyssal Binding Ritual.
The Soul Weaver Civilization had used this ritual to communicate with the Otherworld and strengthen their origin with the Phase Soul Weaving Technique.
A look of delight crossed his face. ’Good stuff.’
This ritual would not only complete his knowledge of the Abyssal Altar, but it would also give him more confidence when dealing with beings from the Otherworld in the future.
He put the Stone Slab fragment away and glanced back at the remains of the cocoon.
All the threads had withered, revealing layers upon layers of shriveled, twisted skeletons within.
They were all crammed together, like a compressed cube of trash, making it impossible to tell one from another.
This was the final form of the Soul Weaver Civilization.
Ian looked away, not sparing it another glance.
"Gaga, let’s go!"
"Coming, kaw!"
Gaga flapped its wings and followed behind him.
The man and the crow rushed out of the stone door, sprinting back the way they came.
Behind them, the cavern collapsed completely, the rumbling sound pursuing them like muffled thunder.
After running for about ten minutes, a light appeared up ahead... it was the exit of the Underground Palace.
Ian burst out, the harsh sunlight making him squint.
Outside was a wasteland with sparse patches of withered yellow grass. The wind carried the smell of dust and blood.
A dozen or so bodies lay scattered around the entrance to the Underground Palace.
Some were from Deep Red, some from the Withered Council, and others from smaller factions. Judging by their wounds, some had been drained dry by the threads, while others had killed each other.
Hogan and Catherine weren’t among them; they had probably gotten away long ago.
Ian caught his breath and sat down behind a large boulder.
Gaga landed on his shoulder, its little belly rising and falling.
"So tired, kaw... That thing scared me to death..."
Ian didn’t speak. He closed his eyes and looked inward.
In his Sea of Spirit, the Silver Crystal floated quietly, the thread-like patterns on its surface flowing slowly as if alive.
He focused his Will, and the crystal glowed faintly.
A line of information appeared in his mind.
[Phase Soul Weaving Technique (Inactive)]
[Activation Conditions: 1. Construct a complete Abyssal Altar; 2. Sign a contract with an intelligent lifeform from an Otherworld; 3. Provide the location coordinates of the "Initial Loom"; 4. Pay the contractual remuneration (periodically)]
[Current Number of Weavable Soul Projections: 1]
[Warning: Maintaining the Phase Passage requires a continuous drain of Spiritual Power. The Rules of the Otherworld may cause reverse Erosion of the main Soul. Please use with caution.]
Ian opened his eyes and exhaled.
’What a haul!’
