Heavenly Soul

Jing Shui nodded and stepped towards the edge.

He closed his eyes and materialized his personal artifact, a spiritual weapon in the form of a luxurious-looking golden hand fan. The intricately detailed fan hovered in front of him full opened. It had been created by condensing his own spiritual energy and responded only to him.

Creating a personal artifact was a special process that could only be carried out by using something called the Spirit Guiding Stone. It had been gifted centuries ago to the Heavenly Peak Sect by another sect, the Drifting Clouds Sect. Disciples of other sects may also enter the cave that housed the Spirit Guiding Stone if they received special permission from the Heavenly Peak Sect's sect master. Jing Shui and a few other outstanding disciples from the Golden Sun Sect had had the fortune to receive this special permission.

Jing Shui slowly fed the fan his spiritual energy, causing it to emit a bright glow. With its help, he focused slowly on guiding and shaping the water around the beast, his attention centered only on the task.

A circular patch of water around the Behemoth suddenly stilled, clearly defining the area of effect of Jin Shui's magic.

Ropes of water slowly extended up from the circle's edge. As the ropes increased in length, the water level started dropping.

Fascinated by the phenomenon, the Behemoth extended a hand and tried to disperse the water, but the water ropes remained unbroken, held firmly together by Jing Shui's spiritual force.

Spiritual energy was something that naturally permeated the world. Only people who could sense it, take it into their bodies and circulate it, could be said to have a chance at cultivation. When this spiritual energy was harnessed to cast spells, it converted into spiritual power. Spiritual power can only be imbued into another object, like a talisman or a musical instrument, to carry out the caster's intent.

But those who followed the warrior's path and fought with weapons were different. They compressed their spiritual power further, 'solidifying' it into spiritual force. When spiritual force was imbued into a weapon, rather than only enhancing its function, it could also send out attacks. It was able to physically manifest and interact with the world.

For example, when Jing Shui imbued his spiritual weapon, the golden fan, with his spiritual force, it gave him better control over water, allowing him to shape it as he wished. He could also send out water blades with it, which was a physical manifestation of his spiritual force.

The water ropes coated with spiritual force crept up steadily while interlocking, beginning to form a net. Seeming to realize that something was amiss, the Behemoth thrashed around while grunting and growling, trying to break the ropes.

But no matter how the Behemoth struggled, the ropes of water still continued weaving together, joining above the Behemoth's head and finally trapping it in a web made of water.

The construction of the Water Web was complete.

Jing Shui let out a breath in relief. A Water Web of this scale was really difficult to create and this had been his first time attempting it, so he was truly relieved that he could pull it off. At least maintaining the Water Web was not as difficult as making it, though if this went on for too long, Jing Shui was sure to be exhausted.

With the Behemoth now trapped, there was only one more step left―killing it.

But before Qinghe could move in to finish this, a few of the juniors used spells of flight to quickly go over to the Behemoth and attacked messily, seemingly emboldened now that it was restrained. Flashes of various colors flickered as attack after attack struck the Behemoth through the gaps in the Water Web.

Qinghe could only sigh in exasperated amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Those idiots! Brother Feng, call them back," Jing Shui shouted.

"Let them waste their energy to their heart's content. They will eventually realize that there is a reason why the Behemoth is considered one of the beasts most difficult to kill."

Grievances bubbled up in Jing Shui's heart:

Qinghe looked away from Jing Shui as if he didn't see the complaints written on his face.

Thankfully, not all the disciples had run off to be heroes, there were still some sensible juniors left. Turning to them, he instructed, "If Brother Jing ever gets low on spiritual energy, then I'll depend on the ones with water element to feed him some of yours. Can I leave this to you?"

The water-wielders nodded and moved behind Jing Shui, ready to supply spiritual energy whenever needed.

"I will trouble the rest to distribute the spirit replenis.h.i.+ng pills when everyone gets back. Alright?"

The other remaining disciples nodded.

Qinghe had a.s.signed the water-wielders to Jing Shui rather than offering him the pills because it took some time for the pills to take effect, while this way would allow him to maintain a steady supply without any gaps in between. Also, it was easier to receive spiritual energy from those with the same element than those with differing ones. At least this way there would be no chance of recoil or rejection.

When the disciples hara.s.sing the Behemoth had finally returned after admitting defeat, they were greeted with the spirit replenis.h.i.+ng pills offered by their fellow junior disciples who wore smirks and mocking smiles. If it were that easy, why would they have had to set up this elaborate strategy to fight against the Behemoth? Were you guys made stupid by your hotheadedness and thirst for fame?

The returned disciples received the pills with meek and bitter expressions. If they had tails, they would be tucked between their legs.

After that silly detour, it was now time to set the plan back on track.

Qinghe looked up at the Behemoth with hidden antic.i.p.ation. Though this was the first time he'd be fighting in front of other cultivators, it did not lessen his excitement. Just like all the times he was sent out on missions, he looked forward to the fight.

When Qinghe moved forward to begin, everyone turned to see how he would deal with it.

"Senior Brother Feng, can you really kill it?" Junior Brother Wen interrupted. "No matter how much we attacked it, nothing made a dent. What makes you think you have a chance against it?" His voice sounded extremely bitter. Unsurprisingly, Junior Brother Wen had been one of the 'heroes'.

These blatantly provoking words were annoying, but they also made a bit of sense. Everyone was also worried about the same point.

"Do you know why you failed?" Qinghe asked calmly, his smile never once having fallen off his face.

All the juniors who had gone off to attack the Behemoth shook their heads, even Junior Brother Wen.

"It's because the Behemoth is made half out of flesh and half out of spiritual energy. If you hit it with more spiritual energy, it will only get absorbed. Its skin is also one of the toughest materials found in this world. Not even a ninth realm cultivator can pierce it. Considering all this, is it any surprise that you failed?"

The juniors hung their heads low. They had indeed rushed into it unprepared, their eyes selfishly focused only on the glory of killing a Behemoth.

"Then Senior Brother, how do you plan to defeat it?" asked a girl curiously. She was the same girl who had raised a doubt before, having gained courage from Qinghe's encouragement.

Qinghe just kept smiling. "You will see."

He continued moving forward and stopped at the edge, facing the Behemoth as it was still thras.h.i.+ng and trying to break free.

Qinghe raised a hand and a large spear made of compressed wind held together by spiritual force formed in front of him. It was almost a meter in length, the spearhead looking like a tightly furled flower bud.

With a wave of his hand, he sent it towards the Behemoth.

Behind him, Junior Brother Wen snorted. How could it be that easy? They had tried similar things and none of them had worked. The second their spiritual energy had touched the beast's skin, it vanished after being absorbed.

But Qinghe already knew all this, and yet he continued.

The wind spear shot towards the beasts hulking figure and…

…went straight into its nostril.

"…"

What was with this weird development?

"Ah!" Jing Shui exclaimed in realization. "Even if its skin is tough, its insides aren't!"

Qinghe nodded without turning back. The other disciples finally understood. It turned out to be something so simple but clever. They should've thought of it sooner!

But how could this be the full extent of Qinghe's plan?

Once inside, the spear traveled down to the throat, the beast's clear skin allowing people to see the spear's progress from the outside. After reaching the throat, it stopped.

When Qinghe spread his fingers, the bud that served as the spearhead bloomed, revealing a faintly glowing sphere at the center. The edges of the slowly unfurling petals glinted with a line of spiritual force.

With a twitch of Qinghe's fingers, the wind spear started spinning as it forced its way down the beast's esophagus, cutting flesh as the blade-sharp petals spun. The devastation it caused in its wake was clearly visible as pearly pink blood sprayed outwards from the shredded walls of the Behemoth's throat. The beast wailed, its voice sounding thready and hoa.r.s.e.

Horror chilled the spines of the watching disciples, some clutching at their own throats with an uncomfortable expression.

As the spear traveled down the beast's gullet, Qinghe raised his other hand, forming more of the bud-tipped wind spears. He sent them all into the Behemoth and had them spread out in different directions, some carving into the lungs, some into the liver. The Behemoth was being ground to death from the inside. It moaned and groaned in pain to no avail. They could visibly see the tissue being twisted and torn, see fluids burst and spread as the wind spears dug in mercilessly.

Some of the disciples turned away from this sight, unable to see any more. This was too gruesome and horrifying.

Qinghe's heart hurt having to make another living being suffer like this. Deciding to end the Behemoth's pain, he sent out a command to the fully-bloomed windflowers.

The spheres cradled at the center of each flower flashed once, then detonated, a mixture of the compressed wind and spiritual force exploding out violently.

Loud, wet booms thundered from within the Behemoth, and yet its skin didn't as much as tear, containing everything inside even when its organs had turned to a soupy mush.

The Behemoth collapsed against the inside of the Water Web, lifeless. Thick pink blood dribbled out of its nose and mouth. Its huge mournful eyes were staring longingly one last time at its prey, traces of pain still distinguishable in its dulled gaze.

Faced with this sight, many disciples had to look away.

The Behemoth was finally dead, but no one could feel proud.