“I heard that you people like to place slave seals on the talents you capture, promising them freedom once they reach the Nascent Soul Realm. And when they finally do, before you agree to remove the seal, you demand they make a Soul Oath of eternal loyalty, correct?”

Faced with Mo Yexuan’s question, Ancestor Kong didn’t hesitate for even a second before replying in a flattering tone.

“Senior, you are wise — your knowledge is as vast as the earth and as deep as the sea. We, who rule over the desert continents, indeed do this. But if they swear loyalty, we truly free them and treat them well. If this is what Senior desires, we will make a Soul Oath of eternal loyalty to you right now, without hesitation. It will be our greatest honor to follow you. Even if it means climbing a mountain of blades or crossing a sea of flames, we will do so willingly,” Ancestor Kong spoke quickly, startling the others, but they soon understood and nodded at once.

‘Clever old fox.’ Aotian thought, amused at how quickly the man’s mind worked to save his own life.

Following him was undoubtedly better than dying. And following someone powerful didn’t necessarily bring only disadvantages — there could also be potential benefits. But above all, their lives were on the line — otherwise, they wouldn’t have submitted so easily.

And he truly wasn’t lying about how they treated the talents they captured.

From what Aotian knew, when a cultivator from the desert continents reached the Nascent Soul Realm and was able to make a Soul Oath, they were indeed released. If any of them bore resentment toward their captors, they were free to return and kill them to their heart’s content.

Even if they destroyed the emissary sects, it didn’t matter. After all, compared to the value of a Nascent Soul cultivator to a sect, those small five emissary sects they left as spokespersons in the desert continents — which could be recreated easily and quickly — were worth nothing.

The only restriction was to ensure that no information about anyone returning for revenge was leaked, as that would hinder future talent captures.

For instance, Jian Huiyin would never have joined an emissary sect willingly, due to her loyalty to the Bamboo Sword Sect. But if Wu Juntian, who killed her master, had managed to capture her back then, she would have been forced to join — something extremely advantageous for the alliance of the five sects. Yet, if it leaked that such people could return for revenge, Wu Juntian would never have dared to do it.

Even if the recruited disciples knew that the five allied sects were also among the main culprits behind whatever suffering they had endured, as long as they bore the slave seal or the Soul Oath of eternal loyalty, they could only bury their resentment and live or die for the sect.

Of course, they could choose suicide, but in all the years that sect had done this, there had never been such a case. Cultivators only took their own lives in truly extreme situations.

And how did Aotian know all this? He had performed a Soul Search on that Ancestor Gong.

With his new technique, he could do it without killing the victim — though it still left their soul nearly extinguished. He had spared that scoundrel only because he didn’t want the extinguishing of his soul lamp to alert the Blazing Heaven Sect.

To enter that sect, he hadn’t needed any token or soul imprint. Since Mo Yexuan was a Void Refiner, entering and leaving formations below the Void-Tier was trivial for him.

The soul imprint, even for Aotian, was difficult to simulate. Although he could disguise his spiritual aura to perfectly match another’s, that only fooled a cultivator’s senses, not a formation’s.

The soul was not something fixed — with every breath, every new experience, small ripples and changes occurred. To mimic even those minimal fluctuations, one needed the original soul constantly in hand for observation. And even then, only Aotian, with his multiple minds and powerful techniques, could perform such a feat, though it was still extremely tedious.

This need for perfection when generating a soul imprint existed because a sect’s formations were linked to the cultivator’s soul lamp, which contained a fragment of their soul and was in sync with the main part. So if a change occurred in the main soul, the fragment would change as well.

Under that system, when someone sent a soul imprint through a formation, it compared it to the fragment stored in the sect and instantly blocked entry if it detected discrepancies — alerting the sect in the process.

Even with all these security layers, Aotian had at least three ways to enter: hiding his body within the void and leaving behind an illusory image as he had done, simulating the soul imprint using the soul in his hand, or simply invading the formations through his domain over them.

“Alright, the four of you will make a Soul Oath, swearing loyalty to me. What I want from you is to continue operating as usual and not reveal our existence. In addition, your only duties will be to protect the Beixu Continent, preventing others from interfering there as you have been doing — but now, that includes yourselves as well. And lastly, ensure that your disciples stop bullying innocent people. If they don’t stop, kill them without mercy. Understood?”

“Yes!” Ancestor Kong responded immediately, barely waiting for the dark old man to finish speaking, and swore loudly, “I, Kong…”

The other ancestors were momentarily stunned by Ancestor Kong’s quick and cowardly actions, but they soon made their oaths as well. After all, no one who sought immortality wished to die.

Mo Yexuan’s gaze then turned to the last person in the room — the Blazing Heaven Sect leader, who was in the Golden Core Realm and couldn’t make a Soul Oath due to insufficient cultivation.

“Place a seal on him,” he ordered.

An inner elder of the Shadow Pavilion immediately stepped forward and placed his hand on the back of the frozen man, while his foot discreetly pressed down on the man’s shadow.

The sect leader felt a heavy energy invade his spiritual roots, leaving him no room for resistance. Soon, it reached his dantian, forming a complex pattern that filled him with dread.

That was clearly no low-level technique. He knew that from that moment on, a single thought from those men would be enough to make his dantian explode, ending his life instantly.

“You will follow the same orders as your ancestors. Don’t try to act clever just because you don’t have a Soul Oath binding you. That fellow over there will be watching you, and if you do anything wrong, we’ll know.” He narrowed his eyes at the man, pointing to the ground beside him.

Everyone followed the old man’s wrinkled finger and were confused to see only a shadow there. But then, the shadow’s hand suddenly moved, taking the shape of a terrifying claw and rising from the ground as if black ink had come to life, grabbing the sect leader’s leg.

The man, still paralyzed, turned pale with fear upon seeing the scene and feeling the strength of that hand.

If not for the force keeping him immobile, he probably would’ve already fallen to his knees in pure terror.

“Well then, with everything in place, we’re leaving. We still have to visit your allies.” Mo Yexuan smiled darkly, making everyone swallow hard before he began to leave. However, he suddenly stopped.

“Almost forgot about you.,” he teased, opening his hand to reveal once again a faint blue ghost, pale with fear — Ancestor Gong.

“Please, have mercy, senior! I’m willing to swear as well!” he begged. After all, Aotian had let him listen to everything that happened this time, and he fully understood that his sect could no longer help him.

Mo Yexuan smiled faintly.

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood to have ghosts as subordinates.” Still smiling, he suddenly clenched his fist.

“NOOO—”

The scream of terror was abruptly silenced as his soul was crushed. Only a faint trace of blue smoke escaped from the ancestor’s fist before dissipating completely.

There were two reasons Aotian killed him.

The first was that, after reading his memories, he simply couldn’t feel at ease letting him live.

The second was that he was, in fact, an old acquaintance.

Back in the Shadowfallen Burial Mountain, when he hunted a shadow beast — a giant boar — shortly after entering, five enemies had appeared, wanting to capture the avatars and hand them over in exchange for having their seals removed. But Aotian had already made his avatars hide as soon as he sensed their presence.

One of those five was precisely Ancestor Gong. The other four were likely among the remaining sects allied with the Blazing Heaven Sect.

Aotian needed to act against those sects as well — and quickly — because normally, after sending someone to recover the talents from the desert continents, they would gather to share them, since they were an alliance.

But he had no intention of sharing the talents of his continent, whom he hadn’t even brought, so to avoid trouble, he would pay them a visit soon.

After Mo Yexuan and the elders left, only five men remained in the cave.

Their previously fawning and fearful faces slowly turned grim, faint traces of killing intent appearing — which they quickly suppressed upon remembering something.

Their eyes shifted to the shadow of the sect leader, and a chill ran down their spines. Slowly, they looked at their own shadows.

That was when they saw something that made their hearts freeze and terror consume their minds.

A crack appeared on the head of their shadows, and through it, light seeped in, forming a sinister smile on the featureless faces of those dark figures.

…

Far away, in the Beixu Continent (Northern Desolation), Aotian sat inside his cave, smiling faintly as he watched the terrified expressions of those men through the perspective of their shadows.

He chuckled softly.

‘It’s fun to mess with these old fossils who think they’re gods,’ He thought, amused.

The control over those ancestors’ shadows began when one of the inner elders concealed his presence and made his shadow touch theirs, thus taking control.

Aotian intended to use those sects as a shield to protect the continent he now ruled — preferably in a way that required few of his avatars — buying time to develop it in secret.

That was why he chose the route of controlling living people, and the inner elders of the Shadow Pavilion had been a great help in that task.

As long as he left an inner elder near the five neighboring sects, the distance limit for shadow control would not be violated.

And even if those individuals strayed too far, the psychological pressure alone — due to the fear and uncertainty of whether the shadows were active — along with the slave seals and Soul Oaths, was enough to keep them firmly under control.

Satisfied, Aotian nodded to himself and rubbed his chin, his eyes gleaming.

‘Soon this problem will be completely solved, and then I can start reshaping this continent without so many restraints.’

Eager for what was to come, he closed his eyes and returned his focus to cultivation.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep