Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 58

As Meng Xinghe kept calling “Master,” Xi Che finally regained consciousness. He tried to sit up, but soon realized—he couldn’t move at all.

Was the Zhu You worm causing him this much damage?

That was his first thought, but soon he realized—it wasn’t the worm restraining him, it was Meng Xinghe. He was lying in the middle of a huge magic circle, talismans sprawling across the entire floor, and Meng Xinghe stood just outside the circle, smiling as he watched him.

Xi Che frowned tightly. “What are you trying to do?”

Meng Xinghe smiled faintly. “Why, to bring you back to life for real, Master.”

A sharp tension struck Xi Che’s heart. Meng Xinghe gently continued, as though explaining something thoughtful:

“When I came in just now, you’d already lost consciousness. I figured it must be some secret art your master left behind—something only the two of you could understand.”

He narrowed his eyes, murmuring, “As expected of you, Master. I watched over his corpse for so many years, and never uncovered the secret. Yet he left you a single thread of hope. It makes me jealous.”

Xi Che couldn’t help a bitter laugh. “If not for you, he wouldn’t have died.”

Meng Xinghe’s pupils contracted. He stared for a long moment, then sneered. “And you didn’t save him either, did you? I thought the great Asas was so powerful—turns out you’re useless too.”

Xi Che closed his eyes briefly. “Stop deluding yourself. Jin Lingzi is dead. There is no such thing as resurrection. You need to give up.”

“Impossible!”

Meng Xinghe cut him off, shouting, “You came back to life, didn’t you?! You died hundreds of years ago, and yet here you are! If you can live again, then so can he! I’ve kept his body intact all these years just for this moment!”

Xi Che didn’t even know how to explain. His soul didn’t belong to this world in the first place—by all rights, he should have stayed dead. Yet somehow he’d revived inside another body.

Meng Xinghe took a deep breath, suppressing his emotions. “I know your current body is weak, that’s why you can’t use your old powers. But it’s fine. I’ve prepared for this—for a long time.”

Xi Che’s eyes widened. Suddenly he remembered the mummified corpse he’d found hanging in that underground palace… Could that have been Meng Xinghe’s doing? Of course—it all fit. The array inscribed on that corpse had his own handwriting at its root. Meng Xinghe had altered his formation and used it to fuel resurrection experiments.

To bring Xi Che back, he’d gathered the Great Edict and the artifacts, turning the once-holy Xiaoyao Mountain into a living hell. The walking corpses imprisoned there were likely his test subjects. Even the land of white bones Xi Che had fallen into near the Divine Academy—that must’ve been his handiwork too.

How many atrocities had this man committed over the years…?

Meng Xinghe seemed delighted by Xi Che’s expression. He murmured to himself, “It’s not my first time performing this ritual, but it’s never succeeded before. Asas, I hope you’ll be the exception.”

Then, without hesitation, he drew his sword and slashed his palm. Blood dripped steadily down, falling onto the talismanic runes. The dark symbols began to glow red, pulsing with a sinister light.

Xi Che couldn’t move at all, only glare at him, struggling to speak: “Stop… You’ve already gone too far. You’ve turned Xiaoyao Mountain into a graveyard—do you really think this is what Jin Lingzi wanted?”

Meng Xinghe’s face blurred before Xi Che’s eyes as his vision dimmed. The last thing he saw was Meng Xinghe’s mad grin.

“So what if it isn’t? I only want him alive. The rest of the world can die for all I care.”

Xi Che’s consciousness slipped away. Meng Xinghe’s voice followed like a whispering sigh:

“I’ll pray for you, Asas.”

At the same time…

Chu Yan had chased the trail of black mist all the way to the base of Xiaoyao Mountain. He’d tried to follow it using divine power, but a strange barrier stopped him short.

No ordinary barrier could block him—unless it had been crafted by Asas himself.

Sensing danger, he stopped hesitating. He summoned the Vermilion Bird and crashed it against the barrier. It wasn’t Asas’ own creation after all—the Vermilion Bird’s strike cracked it open, and with one slash of the Taiyi Sword, Chu Yan shattered it entirely.

But he was still too late.

When he found Xi Che, Meng Xinghe had already completed the ritual. Xi Che’s body lay motionless at the center of the blood-dried formation—lifeless.

It felt as if someone had smashed Chu Yan over the head. His mind went blank; only one thought echoed through him—

He’s lost him again.

He gathered Xi Che into his arms, pressing the cold body to his chest. His divine power surged uncontrollably, breaking through the disguise of “Chu Qi.” His short hair lengthened, divine energy lashing behind him like serpentine tendrils.

“Asas… Wake up. Don’t joke like this…”

But as his power overflowed, Heaven itself took notice. Thunder cracked above; crimson lightning churned within the storm clouds.

Before Heaven’s wrath could descend, the earth began to quake. The mountain split open with the sound of shattering stone.

From the peak, a figure was slowly descending.

Chu Yan froze. As the figure landed before him, he went rigid—

It was Xi Che.
No—this was Asas, the true War God, reborn.

Xi Che’s soul had been drawn into his real body. Meng Xinghe’s blood ritual had worked—miraculously, terribly, it had succeeded.

Xi Che barely had time to comprehend it. He was alive again. And standing before him… was Chu Qi, no ChuYan,  the God of light.

His mind went blank. What the hell?! Chu Yan and Chu Qi are the same person?!

He’d just been hanging there, watching Chu Yan shed his disguise, holding his corpse and calling him “Asas”…

Ahhhhh! What the actual hell?!
This world was insane! Since when were those two the same person?! Had Chu Yan known from the very beginning?!

That bastard could really act!

But Xi Che wasn’t the only one stunned. Chu Yan had no idea how to respond either—his long-lost lover, the one he thought gone forever, was suddenly standing before him, alive. For once, even the gods were speechless.

They just stood there, staring dumbly at each other for a long, awkward silence.

Until—

A deranged laugh split the air.

“I did it! I did it! I’ve mastered resurrection!” Meng Xinghe’s voice echoed through the mountains. “One hundred twenty-three thousand five hundred lives—and I’ve done it! I’ve resurrected Asas!”

His words sent chills down their spines. A hundred and twenty-three thousand lives?

Had all those deaths been for his sake?

Xi Che’s hair stood on end. Whatever awkwardness he’d felt vanished. He turned toward Meng Xinghe—this monster had to be stopped.

Chu Yan reached for him instinctively. “Asas—”

Xi Che said flatly, “You might want to rein in your divine power first. I’d rather not get struck by lightning again.”

Chu Yan blinked, then obediently pulled back his aura and followed.

Though his control was still unsteady, Xi Che’s true body was vastly stronger than that frail demonic shell he’d inhabited before. The White Tiger spirit was fully free now—it burst from behind him in its true colossal form, spreading its wings wide and roaring until the mountains trembled.

He didn’t summon it for show. He needed its power to restore his own, to call back his weapon—Jin Hunwu. The resurrection array was still devouring life around them; if left alone, more innocents would be turned into those walking corpses.

Fire blazed along his body, wrapping him in crimson light. The ground shook, beasts roared, the sky itself rippled as his divine essence returned to him—magic reborn from purity, free of corruption.

In that instant, heaven and earth responded. Stars and suns trembled; rivers and clouds surged.

The White Tiger reveled in the power, its roar shaking the sky.

Xi Che clenched his fist—the flame spread across his arm like living cloth.

“Jin Hunwu!”

A thunderous boom split the heavens. A massive saber shot down from the clouds, blade-first, aimed right for his brow.

Xi Che’s lips curved faintly. Just before it could strike him, the weapon halted, floating upright before him.

He reached out and gripped the hilt. “Long time no see.”

The weapon was weathered, blade dulled with rust, its scabbard faded—but when he touched it, it sang. The spirit within still lived.

Xi Che spun the blade in a bright arc, flame cascading along its edge, burning away centuries of rust until it gleamed once more.

Without hesitation, he and Jin Hunwu soared toward the mountain’s peak. The weapon didn’t question its purpose—it only followed the will of its master, the War God.

Meng Xinghe saw them coming, panic flashing through his eyes. He turned and shielded the great formation behind him, shouting, “Stop! Don’t destroy it!”

He still wanted to bring Jin Lingzi back.

Xi Che ignored him, stepping lightly past and swinging the saber downward.

The blow split Xiaoyao Mountain clean in two. The formation shattered; the two artifacts shot free. Xi Che caught them easily, then looked coldly back at Meng Xinghe.

The ritual was powerful—but it couldn’t withstand Jin Hunwu. These three artifacts had always restrained one another; under their true master’s command, they had no chance of resisting.

Chu Yan, meanwhile, had recovered Jin Lingzi’s body. Meng Xinghe’s eyes went bloodshot. “Put him down!”

Xi Che shook his head. “What you need to put down is your obsession. Jin Lingzi never wanted this—and even if he did, it’s impossible.”

He’d seen everything through the Zhu You worm—Jin Lingzi’s death, his guilt, his sorrow. Even at the end, he hadn’t blamed Meng Xinghe. He’d chosen to die rather than take revenge.

“Impossible! You were resurrected! If I could just—just a bit more, I could—”

Xi Che sighed. “Meng Xinghe, no. Some mistakes can only be made once. Life is fragile. Once gone, it’s gone forever. No spell can change that.”

His tone hardened. “And I’m not just talking about Jin Lingzi. I mean the one hundred and twenty-three thousand innocent souls you murdered. Do you understand?!”

It was tragically ironic—Jin Lingzi had once tried to resurrect his own mother too. Back then, Xi Che had told him the same thing. The difference was that Jin Lingzi had listened. He learned to respect life, to save others. Meng Xinghe, however, had gone the opposite way—further and further into madness, never once learning what reverence meant.

At his core, Meng Xinghe was still a spoiled child who couldn’t accept losing. If he failed, he changed the rules.

Now, he suddenly laughed.

Raising his right hand, he whispered a dark incantation. “I offer my soul as sacrifice—help me take Jin Lingzi back!”

Dark clouds surged instantly, swallowing the sky. Black-red runes crawled over his face as his soul began to twist.

Xi Che’s expression froze—he recognized that aura. It was the same power that had captured him and dragged him to Xiaoyao Mountain in the first place.

A terrible realization struck him. His pulse quickened with both dread and grim anticipation.

The true mastermind behind it all… was finally about to appear.