Warden of Highspire looked at the old, ugly former god and said softly, “You are no longer a god, and you are about to die.”

Embergrower gazed at him with dim yellow eyes. “I die as I should, and I have found the benevolence I sought. You were born from the great mountains and earth, inherently connected to the chaos and ferocity, and fused with the three souls of the Heaven-Opening Axe. I said long ago that you were born with red fate, and that one day you would bring about a great disaster, causing snow to fall year-round atop Kunlun Mountain. Yet, you have still come to this point.”

Highspire remained silent.

“You cannot comprehend eternity, cannot see through right and wrong, cannot distinguish good from evil, cannot discern life from death—how dare you defy the will of Heaven?” Embergrower said, enunciating each word. “Such audacity will bring endless calamity upon you. You… sigh!”

Embergrower Line’s words became a prophecy.

On the third day, the stars shattered and ghosts roamed freely.

On the fourth day, floodwaters rose, and all tribes continued to migrate to the mountain peaks. The long-standing conflict between the Wu and Yao clans finally erupted.

On the seventh day, the Wu and Yao clans continued to fight, with half their numbers dead or wounded. The descendants of Yan and Huang finally allied once more with the descendants of Chiyou, struggling to survive.

On the tenth day, Embergrower Line preached enlightenment, beginning with the origins of heaven and earth, the universe’s chaos, amid disaster and funeral songs.

On the twelfth day, Lifesmith finally patched the sky, which had been drenched in endless rain, using the four legs of a giant turtle to form new pillars of heaven, nearly exhausting herself.

On the thirteenth day, the Heavenly Dao collapsed, the ghost clan swept across the continent, the four pillars shook, the northwest sky tilted, mountains crumbled, the earth split, and the sky canopy trembled, on the verge of collapse.

The gods, ignorant of the limits of heaven and earth, finally suffered the backlash of the Heavenly Dao after defying fate again and again.

Heaven and earth were about to merge, intending to use the ghost clan to devour everything, returning all to chaos.

Warden of Highspire stood as if he had become a statue atop Mount Penglai, motionless and silent.

“Lifesmith sent word that she is sealing the four pillars and intends to transform herself into Houtu to block Fuxi’s great seal,” Embergrower said. “You are not wrong, Highspire, nor is Prime Shaper. None of us are wrong. But the world is destined for countless tribulations and calamities, and the struggles of living beings are fated. Those who are silent like Fuxi die in silence; those who rebel like you die in rebellion. I, like a mortal, will die of the five decays. It is all destined, and none can resist it. If you must blame something, blame that you know too much.”

Highspire calmly opened his eyes and asked, seemingly at random, “Back then, Chiyou entrusted the Wu and Yao clans to me. Now, the Heavenly Dao wants me to choose: either let one stay and the other go, or destroy both. Is that right?”

Embergrower looked at him in silence.

“Let the Yao clan remain,” Highspire finally said quietly.

Embergrower let out a long sigh, knowing he had compromised.

The great flood finally subsided. Lifesmith, gravely wounded, imitated Prime Shaper and, wielding a giant axe, transformed herself into Houtu to block the gap in the great seal, pressing the chaotic ghost clan back beneath the four pillars. However, patching the sky had already consumed too much of Lifesmith’s primordial spirit, and her chest was gravely injured by the ghostly axe. Fuxi’s great seal was barely blocked, but still threatened to break free.

Embergrower sat in the Highspire temple, saying nothing.

“I thought I would die struck by five thunders,” Warden of Highspire suddenly said. “I didn’t expect that from the moment I blinded the dragon and toppled Buzhou Mountain, my grave had already been prepared.”

Embergrower raised his aged eyes to look at the last survivor among the four great sages of the primordial era, unable to speak—perhaps Warden of Highspire could leave, could use his divine power to forcibly close the gates of Kunlun Mountain. Even if the world returned to chaos, no one could do anything to him.

Yet Highspire was born with the three souls of the Heaven-Opening Axe; he was the only one who would never go against Prime Shaper’s will.

Warden of Highspire was, in essence, Prime Shaper’s legacy.

“I want… to see my cat one more time.”

Embergrower Line, carrying his basket of herbs, slowly walked into the deep mountains, while Lifesmith’s figure was almost gone from sight.

Everything seemed to have reached a dead end. Back in his desolate, empty temple, Warden of Highspire suddenly turned his head and found that only a black-haired, black-eyed youth, looking frail and delicate, remained by his side.

The young Wraith King asked softly, “Are you going to seal me back into the great seal?”

“No, I am powerless to do anything. At least… at least I can still protect you.” Warden of Highspire gave a low, faint laugh. His body shuddered violently, and his voice trembled almost imperceptibly. “You don’t want to be part of the ghost clan, so I will grant your wish.”

The young Wraith King was shocked. He reached out to grab Warden of Highspire’s shoulder and turned him around, only to see that his body was almost transparent, his face pale as snow. Suddenly, Warden of Highspire raised his hand, his wide sleeve stirring a breeze, and a fireball as brilliant as the stars was gathered into his palm: “…Take it.”

The youth received it with both hands.

“This is the soul fire from my left shoulder,” Warden of Highspire, drenched in cold sweat, still managed a smile. “I… I’ll give you one more thing.”

His body trembled violently as he pulled a long silver tendon from himself—there is no pain greater than being skinned and having one’s tendons pulled. The young Wraith King’s eyes reddened, but Warden of Highspire seemed oblivious: “Take the Kunlun divine tendon. From now on, you can be reborn from the land of… the gravest disrespect, and be entered into the divine register…”

“You… you must help me stabilize the four pillars.” Highspire gave a low laugh. “With Lifesmith’s Wheel of Reincarnation, Fuxi’s Mountain and River Awl, and… the Merit Pen from the ancient tree of virtue, I’ll give you one last thing…”

“Kunlun!”

Warden of Highspire lifted his thumb to cradle the youth’s face, and said gently, “A stone that withers before it ages, water that freezes before it chills, a body that dies before it lives… Since Embergrower Line is willing to become mortal and give up his divinity, I’ll add one more thing for him, so that his compassion for the world is complete…”

After speaking, he coughed up a mouthful of blood, which fell into his hand and transformed into a bright red lamp wick. The holy one of the wild mountains before Wraith King grew more and more transparent, weaker and weaker, until he finally vanished, leaving behind a pure white kerosene lamp, with two characters carved in the corner—Soulbound.

A soul that dissipates before it burns: the Soulbound Lamp.

Thus, the heavenly pillars were restored, the four sages reunited, the mountain sage vanished, the three sovereigns disappeared, and the four great pillars supporting heaven and earth, by a twist of fate, fell upon the shoulders of the youth Wraith King, forcibly granted divinity, who bore them alone—as Warden of Highspire’s final mockery of the Heavenly Dao.

And this burden lasted for a full, endless five thousand years.

Logan Sullivan suddenly felt something explode in his mind, as if he were experiencing once again the agony of being skinned and having his tendons pulled, the pain of ten thousand mountains pressing down, and the torment of being forced to the limit by the Heavenly Dao, his whole body bound.

Before his eyes, ages passed in a flash. The great divine tree extended a branch, and a sigh echoed from some unknown time. Someone said softly, “Why must you do this…”

“Pan… Gu…”

A white light filled Logan Sullivan’s vision. Suddenly, his head felt heavy and his feet light. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the festive atmosphere of Blackstone. The lights at No. 4 Guangming Road were out, and the evergreen pines in the yard stood like a canopy.

The man felt something cold on his face. Reaching up, he realized he was already in tears.

[Volume Five: Soulbound Lamp]

Chapter 79 Soulbound Lamp …

After returning home, Charles Gray first slept like the dead, then got up and made himself presentable. Only then did he tidy up, buy some gifts, and go visiting relatives door to door. The first stop was his second uncle’s house—he had to follow his boss’s instructions and deliver the red envelope. Charles Gray had a quirk: he couldn’t stand having “other people’s things” on him… even though he knew full well that his elders would just turn around and give the red envelope back to him.

After greeting everyone upon entering, the first thing Charles Gray did was take out the red envelope and, in a tone as serious and formal as a work report, recite word for word: “Second Uncle, our boss said it’s the holidays, so here’s something for Aunt and my cousin to buy some new clothes.”

Charles Gray’s cousin was a spendthrift who only knew how to spend, not earn, so this was the first time in his life that his second uncle had seen money come back his way. Both flattered and surprised, he hesitated before accepting it, opened it to take a look, then handed it back to Charles Gray: “Wow, that’s quite a bit. You keep it and buy yourself something—strange, isn’t your Old Yang famous for being stingy? How come he’s giving out red envelopes this year?”

Charles Gray was baffled. “Who’s Old Yang?”

As his second uncle stood up to take the plate of dumplings, he replied offhandedly, “Isn’t the head of your household registration department surnamed Yang? Three characters, Yang something?”

Charles Gray: “Our boss’s surname is Zhao.”

His second uncle didn’t take it to heart, continuing to hand out chopsticks as he said, “Whatever, let him be whatever surname. I heard someone say he’s pretty tightfisted, always packing up leftovers wherever he eats. But he’s got elders and kids to support, so it’s understandable. If he treats you well, you should work hard. You’re not that young anymore—don’t spend all your salary, save a bit, you need to know how to live…”

The more Charles Gray listened, the more confused he got, and finally he couldn’t help but interject, “Second Uncle, our boss isn’t even married yet.”