The Risen Ghost: Master of the Chaotic Origin

Chapter 7 (Unmasked scion) Chen’s POV

I had always followed Master Mo’s most important rule — revenge can be fueled by anger, but it must never be served with it.

Yet that night, I let my anger take the lead.

Mei Ling…. She was alive.

But Wei Jue had imprisoned her in the water prison reserved for rebels.

That knowledge ignited the anger I had been suppressing for years.

That night I stopped restraining myself entirely.

I tore off the mask hiding my true self. The transformation from the bumbling "Xiao Feng" to Chen, the last scion of the Long Clan was quicker than shedding skin.

As I discarded the final restraint, my powers surged and everything around me responded. Azure Lake, calm moments before, began to ripple outward from the tower’s base.

Veins of blue light crawled beneath the water at the tower base, and the air thickened. Torches along the walkway flickered and several extinguished

Still cloaked in darkness, I stepped forward compressing the air around me

The effect was rapid.

The guards at the main archway froze.

One frowned, gripping his spear tightly.

“Did…you feel that?”

Another spun, scanning the darkness beyond the waters.

“Who’s there?!”

I emerged from the shadows.

The world around me dimmed. As my boots touched the walkway the blue glow in the water surged brighter, crawling up the tower’s base in slow, pulsing lines.

The guards instinctively backed away.

“Identify yourself!” one barked, trying to force authority into his voice.

“This is the Yan Empire water prison! It is out of bounds!”

I said nothing, moving closer instead.

When I lifted my gaze, silver light reflected in my eyes. The heavenly script stirred, ready to emerge.

The guards saw it — and their composure shattered.

“Wh.. Who are you?! You’re not supposed to be here!”

“Sound the alarm—!” One of them stuttered, the words catching in his throat.

Their cultivation flared; Qi activated instantly as their hands tightened around swords’ hilt.

But it meant nothing.

When I reached the archway, I didn’t strike.

I simply let the spirit within feed on their essence.

Their spiritual core spilled outward. Qi streamed from their bodies, unraveling in midair before condensing into a single meridian that flowed into me.

Lightning flared in my eyes — and the guards collapsed.

Their weapons clattered to the stone, as their body hit the ground.

I stepped over them and pressed onward.

But the archway recognized me as an intruder and the doors slammed shut.

The tower’s protective energy pushed me backward.

From outside, footsteps echoed inside the tower. Guards called for backup, but I was already too absorbed to retreat.

With a flick of my hand, I shattered the gate and advanced inside.

Inside the tower twisted in a spiral of damp stairs, protected by rotating spiritual seals. To any other cultivator, these traps would spell death. But to me, they were mere bubbles to be popped.

A formation of elite guards ascended from the first sub-level, their swords glowing with Qi.

"Intruder! For the Em—"

I stepped forward, my body rippling. Under my breath, I linked with the unknown.

“Feed,” I whispered and swept my arm in a wide arc letting the hungry soul-eater out.

A blue flame engulfed the men in front of me. It didn't burn their flesh—It devoured their soul. As the aura touched them, they made no sound, their meridians reversed, drawing their souls into the vacuum.

I pushed deeper into the tower. Door after door gave way as I passed. The furtherI went, the colder the air became —but nothing blocked my path until I reached the Gate of Division.

It refused to budge with my mind strength alone. I placed my hand on the cold metal. The Long blood in my veins surged at the relics nearby and heat radiated from the far side of the gate. My heart pounded against my ribs, Mei Ling was close.

"Break," I commanded, my voice calm but absolute.

I used no technique. I simply let the Chaotic Origin flood the gate. The massive iron slab didn't break off its hinges; it disintegrated into a fine mist.

I stepped into the final chamber.

The room was vast and circular, lit by flickering moss. At the center stood a single, ornate cage.

My breath hitched. The pendant resonance screamed, thrumming against my breastbone.

"Mei Ling?" I called out, my voice raspy and stripped of the Xiao Feng disguise.

I rushed toward the cage, boots splashing through a thin layer of liquid. I reached the bars— then froze.

The cage was empty.

Only a single silk ribbon, stained with blood. I closed my eyes gently, my fist tightening.

I had been deceived.

I realized it too late— it was a trap.

Power leaked from beneath my boots, then I realized the liquid on the floor wasn't water. A sickly, sweet stench filled my nostrils —Soul-Withering Venom. It didn't attack the lungs; it seeped through skin, stealing Qi from meridians.

Clang!

The heavy shutters on the high balconies above snapped open. Darkness was pierced by the glow of a hundred notched arrows, each tipped with jagged, purple crystals. Soul-Withering Archers. A single scratch could paralyze a Great Elder.

I stood in the trap center, the blue flames flickering around me as the venom began to suppress my aura.

"You always rushed where spirits feared to tread, Chen."

The voice came from the shadows behind the cage. A figure stepped into the light, clad imperial gold and white, his face etched with a mixture of pity and cold triumph, holding Mei Ling’s jade pendant.

Wei Tian.

The Crown Prince —My childhood friend.