Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 18

If possible, he wished time could stop at this very moment.

If possible, he wished he could go back and strangle himself to death.

At the same time, in the same place, the two people embracing each other had completely opposite thoughts.

To Xi Che, being held in Chu Yan’s arms felt like endless torment, every second unbearably long. He only endured for a short while before finally pushing him away.

“It’s getting late. Let’s check the surroundings and return early.”

Chu Yan understood his intention. He nodded and helped Xi Che up from the ground.

Just now, in order to break the influence of the White Bone Grounds’ accumulated resentment on Xi Che’s emotions, Chu Yan had used a spell to take him swiftly across to the far end. Looking back now, the path behind still stretched endlessly into the distance. Xi Che’s misunderstanding—that he was some powerful great demon—was actually a good thing for Chu Yan. At least he no longer needed to hold back. He could fully protect Xi Che, so along the way, he maintained the illumination spell without arousing suspicion.

Using the glow of the spell, Xi Che scanned the area. The far end looked identical to the entrance: nothing but bones, nothing else at all. A pang of disappointment hit him.

It wasn’t that he still clung to the hope of taking Bi Yuan back—he had already realized Bi Yuan was gone. What disappointed him was that he couldn’t trace the origin of this place.

Finding Bi Yuan’s whereabouts was no longer his main purpose. Uncovering the reason behind the White Bone Grounds’ existence and the cause of the students’ disappearance was far more important now.

After some thought, Xi Che suddenly said:
“Right, I just remembered a method—we can try summoning a soul. Do you still remember the spot where we found that pendant?”

The moment Chu Yan heard the words “summon a soul,” his brows furrowed instinctively.
“Summoning a soul? Isn’t that—”

“Black magic.”

Xi Che cut him off, voicing the concern outright. His face still wore a faint smile, but his tone carried provocation:
“You yourself are of the demon race, hiding in the God of light’s academy disguised as a human with who knows what intentions. You still dare to lecture me about righteousness and evil? If you’re too scared, I’ll do it myself.”

He turned and walked back the way they had come.

The true God of light could only follow, helpless before such “blasphemous” words:
“I never said I wouldn’t. We’ve already been through life and death together—don’t keep trying to leave me behind.”

Xi Che snorted coldly, not wanting to answer him.

Chu Yan added, “Besides, if you go alone, the resentment here will affect your mind again. At least I can stand guard for you.”

His memory was sharp. He quickly found the place where Bi Yuan’s bones had scattered. The deeper they went, the more Xi Che felt his emotions swaying. But having experienced it once already, he recognized the signs and forced himself to endure.

Just then, he felt a fingertip tap the crown of his head. A refreshing flow of spiritual energy entered his consciousness, steadying his mind.

Naturally, it was Chu Qi who had done this.

Xi Che uncomfortably muttered thanks and, without waiting for any reply, sat cross-legged at the place where the pendant had been found.

After a pause, he put his finger to his mouth, bit the tip, and let drops of blood fall onto Bi Yuan’s bones.

This was the Soul-Summoning Curse. His hesitation came from knowing it required immense power, and with his current strength, failure was highly possible.

But there was no other way—he had to try.

In his past life, Xi Che had been a battle-maniac with no taboos. Whether it was pills, weapons, or spells—orthodox or forbidden—as long as it wasn’t part of the “nine years of compulsory education,” he would study it with fervor. Even when he was the God of War in the Netherworld, this nature had been obvious. He took in even the so-called “forbidden” arts. After his fall into demonic ways, he grew even more unrestrained—researching and even inventing many “black arts” himself.

The Soul-Summoning Curse was one of them.

But now his strength was nothing like before. He couldn’t summon spirits at will and could only rely on the little power left within White Tiger.

Closing his eyes, he drew a formation in midair, silently calling: White Tiger, it’s up to you.

White Tiger leapt to perch atop his head, roaring toward the void. Xi Che pointed his bleeding finger at the center of the formation and chanted:

“By decree, wandering soul, why suffer rebirth? Take my blood and flesh, come forth at once!”

When the last word fell, a storm suddenly rose around the array, spinning wildly across the bones on the ground.

From the side, Chu Yan’s frown deepened. No wonder rumors spread through Langfeng Pavilion that Asa had fraternized with the demonic path after descending to the mortal realm. This very technique he used was strictly forbidden in the Netherworld—it meddled with reincarnation and karma.

But Xi Che paid no heed. As the storm spun, his mind filled with flashing scenes, like lantern slides. It was the only way to communicate with lingering souls. After so long, most souls couldn’t manifest or speak—only fragmented memories remained. By linking through the curse, he could forcibly glimpse them.

But with his weak current strength, most scenes were just black. Only fragments appeared:

First fragment: In a massive cave, Bi Yuan and many others stood in line. Clearly abnormal, they had lost their will, their limbs shackled in chains reaching up to the ceiling. On those chains flowed some strange liquid.

Second fragment: Still in a group, stumbling out of the cave, their vision warped like through a convex mirror, edged with streaks of blood.

Third fragment: Their chains gone, but utterly lost—like walking corpses, they rushed down upon a village.

Then darkness. Xi Che frowned, forcing the vision back to the first fragment, desperate to see what exactly was linked to those chains.

But it was beyond his limit. His bloodied finger trembled, the vision freezing at the junction where all the chains met, refusing to move further.

Damn it… just a little more…

—White Tiger!

Sweat poured down his face. He called within his mind. White Tiger’s strained voice answered: That’s the limit—retreat now!

Xi Che’s cheeks flushed unnaturally. He refused to let go—he had to see. His instincts screamed this was tied to him. The setting felt eerily familiar, much like the cave arrangement he had built back when he was Prince Shen.

He had to confirm it.

Then suddenly—he heard a rushing wind at his ears. He snapped his eyes open—only to see a nearby skeleton lurch upright with a clack. One after another, rotten bones stood, green flames igniting in their hollow sockets as they shuffled toward him.

“End the array!” Chu Yan shouted.

Xi Che knew—but he couldn’t. His hand was trapped in the formation, blood continuously drawn out. What was supposed to summon Bi Yuan’s soul had gone wrong. The scent of fresh blood had attracted all the wandering spirits, pulling them in like moths to flame.

It was worse than a zombie siege. Before he realized it, several skeletons had already staggered right up to his face—eye socket to eye. Worse still, some skulls weren’t fully rotted, scraps of flesh dangling, maggots crawling from the holes. Xi Che nearly vomited on the spot.

This curse had two sides: summoning and binding spirits. If successful, the summoned could even become subordinates. But to have a pack of such grotesque minions? Terrifying.

And more terrifying still—there were endless bones here. If it continued, he’d be sucked dry within half an hour.

Sweating buckets, he pulled desperately, but his hand wouldn’t come free. More green-flamed skeletons crept closer.

Chu Yan finally understood—Xi Che had overreached, trying a spell too strong for his current strength. He was being devoured by backlash.

Did he think he was still the God of War Asa?

Chu Yan’s lips pressed thin. He reached into the void—his hand closing around a blade that slowly revealed itself inch by inch. From the hilt downward it took form, its jade sheath gleaming cold light. No murderous aura, only sharp clarity. It was as if he had plucked it from the air itself.

At last, the weapon shone in full. On its white-jade hilt, a phoenix-feathered, three-legged, armored bird was carved, twin pupils glaring. At its head were two large characters: Tai Yi.

The Taiyi Sword—Chu Yan’s natal weapon.

Gripping it, he slashed straight down on the array.

The formation shattered at once, fragments scattering like shards of crystal into the void. The bloodline broke as well.

At once, the animated bones lost support and collapsed in heaps with a crash.

Xi Che, drained of blood, felt the world spin as he fell back. Chu Yan caught him swiftly, then held him close as he cast a spell. In an instant, they emerged from underground back to the surface.

In his arms, Xi Che had already passed out. A quick inspection showed not only blood loss, but backlash—dark energy faintly seeping across his face.

Chu Yan’s brows knitted tight.

This troublemaker… just like before—always choosing reckless paths, never letting anyone rest easy.

As for that cave—it was far too sinister. Best to seal it away.