Batian Martial Soul

Chapter 14270 Previous Life
The old man spoke slowly, his voice carrying a kind of bewitching magic, as if it came from a distant place, yet clearly penetrating everyone's ears: "Drinking this soup once will make you forget the past, sever old ties, and from now on have no more worries or concerns. Isn't that wonderful?"

"All the troubles and grudges in this world can be dissolved into nothingness with this bowl of soup."

As they were talking, something strange happened.

A lifelike scene suddenly appeared in the soup bowl, as if a long-sealed world had been reopened.

It was a chaotic world, filled with thick fog that made it impossible to distinguish east from west.

A man in white stood tall and straight, his clothes fluttering in the wind, like an immortal descending to earth.

He gazed silently down at the vast land, his eyes indifferent as ice, as if everything in the world was irrelevant to him, yet everything was under his control.

Beside him, a woman in green glared angrily, her eyes filled with rage and resentment. The long sword in her hand hummed, as if expressing the turmoil in her heart.

The woman suddenly shouted angrily, "You disregard the laws of Heaven!"

Her voice trembled with anger, each word seemingly squeezed out from between her teeth, filled with endless hatred.

The man in white merely smiled coldly. Suddenly, he pointed his fingers like a sword at the woman's brow, his expression as cold and stern as an unmelting iceberg.

"The Way of Heaven? Hahahaha, where was the Way of Heaven when we were imprisoned and almost killed?"

His laughter echoed through the chaotic world, filled with mockery and disdain.

His fingertips were imbued with terrifying power, and the surrounding air was twisted and deformed, as if being torn apart by an invisible force.

With a flick of her fingers, blood instantly seeped from between the woman's eyebrows, slowly flowing down her nose and drawing a shocking red line on her pale face.

The woman did not back down. She looked directly at the man in white, her eyes filled with determination and resolve: "This is not what she wanted to see!"

Her voice, though weak, was firm and powerful, like a sharp sword piercing through the white-clad man's indifference.

Her eyes were filled with pain, not only from physical injuries but also from emotional trauma.

The man in white slowly turned around, his gaze fixed on the woman with an icy intensity, devoid of any warmth, as if capable of freezing one's soul.

"Really? She's my daughter. I know her thoughts better than you do."

His voice was as calm as a bottomless, icy pool, without a ripple, yet it carried an undeniable resolve. Every word struck the woman's heart like a heavy hammer.

Having said that, he turned around without hesitation, his wide white robes fluttering in the wind, making him seem ethereal, as if he were about to ride the wind and disappear into the chaotic world at any moment.

That dashing figure, however, filled the woman with utter despair and loneliness.

Behind her, the woman stared intently at the white-clad man's back, her eyes wide open, as if trying to etch that image into the depths of her soul.

"Of all the billions of living beings in heaven and on earth, you..."

Before she could finish speaking, her voice choked with emotion, tears welling in her eyes, filled with deep helplessness and pain.

She wanted to question them, to persuade them to stay, but when the words reached her lips, she realized she was powerless to change anything.

In the distance, the man in white didn't turn his head, his voice as ethereal as smoke, as if coming from another world: "These billions of living beings are not as important as her."

He spoke these words casually, as if they were a trivial matter, but to the woman, they weighed heavily, making it hard for her to breathe.

In an instant, the world fell silent, as if time itself had frozen.

Even the gentle breeze stopped blowing, and the whole world fell into a deathly silence.

The woman stood alone for a long time, her posture upright yet appearing incredibly lonely.

She stood there quietly, speechless, like a stone statue forgotten by time.

Her figure appeared so small in the vast天地 (heaven and earth), like an insignificant speck of dust; and so lonely, as if abandoned by the whole world.

After a long, long time, the woman slowly lowered her head, her long, waterfall-like hair obscuring her face, making it impossible to see her expression.

"Alas, he ultimately took this step..."

Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, as if a gentle breeze could carry it away, filled with endless melancholy and loss, like a helpless sigh at fate.

At that moment, a faint, ethereal voice rang out in the arena, seemingly coming from all directions, making it impossible to discern the source: "Don't go! He will kill you!"

The voice carried obvious worry and anxiety, as if it were trying its best to prevent the woman from doing anything dangerous.

The woman gently raised her head and spoke softly, her voice low but carrying an unwavering determination.

She looked up into the distance, her eyes glistening with tears—tears that held both nostalgia for the past and uncertainty about the future.

He once said that if we have the ability, we should protect all living beings.

Although her voice was soft, it resonated like a great bell in the silent world, carrying a firm belief, as if no difficulty or danger could shake the determination in her heart.

The voice remained silent, as if stunned by the woman's words, or perhaps deep in thought.

Only the wind howled, as if weeping for the helplessness and sorrow of this world.

The woman gazed at the vast earth once more, her eyes growing increasingly unfocused.

Her gaze seemed to pierce through layers of mist, revealing the distant past and the unknown future.

"I wonder how that poor child is doing now."

She spoke these words extremely softly, as if afraid of waking up some sleeping nightmare.

Her heart was filled with concern and worry; the poor child was like an invisible thread, tightly tugging at her heart.

In the deep cave, the light was so dim that it was as if shrouded by a huge black curtain, with only a few faint fires flickering and barely dispelling some of the darkness.

The bowl of ink soup sat quietly on the stone platform in the center. The breathtaking scene that had just appeared in the bowl came to an abrupt end, as if an invisible hand had forcibly pressed the pause button on the unfolding drama of joy and sorrow.

The ink-soaked soup returned to calm. The once violently churning black liquid was now reduced to faint ripples, spreading out in concentric circles, as if telling the lingering echoes of the illusion that had just occurred.

Before Ling Bi, the old man's previously unfathomable and composed expression had become extremely solemn.

His already wrinkled face was now even more tightly knitted together, as if the years and the scene he had just witnessed had etched deep furrows into it.

Those cloudy eyes gleamed with a look of astonishment and uncertainty, as if they had witnessed the most unbelievable thing in the world.