Chapter 38: The Second Contract of Domination

As the chains tightened, Mist-Scythe adjusted his cracked mask.

Blood trickled down Mo Xuanyu’s wrists; the binding chains threatened to snap his arms, yet he showed no sign of pain, lunging at Mist-Scythe once more.

"It should be about time..." Mist-Scythe calculated the seconds internally.

Mid-combat, Mist-Scythe retreated, formed a seal with his left hand, and hurled his scythe blade with his right. The blade, as if possessed of a consciousness, dragged its long iron chain to swiftly encircle Mo Xuanyu. This was Mist-Scythe’s ultimate move, his strongest trump card: the talent awakening skill, "Fate’s Verdict."

A talent awakening skill refers to the secondary development and evolution of a talent after a Chosen One consumes a talent sublimation potion or similar item. Every Chosen One’s awakening skill is a trump card, rarely used unless under extreme circumstances. Generally, the higher a talent's initial grade, the more powerful its awakened skill. Of course, there are exceptions, as these skills are generated based on a user’s various statistics—much like Mist-Scythe’s Fate’s Verdict.

The effect of Fate’s Verdict is simple: once a target is bound by the soul chains for three minutes, a "Mark of Fate" appears on them. Once generated, Mist-Scythe can activate it, ignoring all defensive attributes to drag the target’s soul directly into the Soul Realm for a judgment. If the target’s soul attribute is lower than or equal to his own, the scythe of fate falls, dealing devastating damage. The lethality of this skill is comparable to true damage, though its activation conditions are harsh.

As Mist-Scythe completed his hand seals, a blood-red scale imprint slowly manifested on the back of Mo Xuanyu’s hand.

[Sacred Geometry Notification: You have been marked by the Mark of Fate. Soul Judgment is imminent!]

Soul Judgment: Both parties enter the Soul Realm. Within this realm, all attributes and equipment lose their effects; only the soul determines life or death!

As the notification flashed, both Mo Xuanyu and Mist-Scythe were plunged into darkness.

"So this is the Soul Realm?"

When Mo Xuanyu opened his eyes, he saw a dazzling starry sky above and ripples beneath his feet like a water surface. Not far away, Mist-Scythe stood empty-handed. Clearly familiar with this realm, he stood with arms crossed, his gaze fixed calmly on the Scales of Judgment nearby.

[Scales of Judgment: Calculating...]

A phantom scythe appeared above Mo Xuanyu’s head. If his soul attribute were lower than Mist-Scythe’s, the blade would strike. While not an instant kill, it would cause grievous damage to his soul.

[Judgment Determination: Judgment failed, as the target's soul attribute exceeds your own!]

The result delivered by the scales left Mist-Scythe frozen. He stared at Mo Xuanyu in disbelief. "Why is your soul attribute so high?!"

The soul attribute is a neglected stat in Sacred Geometry, rarely prioritized by Chosen Ones. Only specialists like Mist-Scythe invested resources into it.

Mo Xuanyu thought for a moment and said innocently, "Perhaps your luck is just bad?"

He had previously consumed a Soul Fruit, which increased his soul attribute by 10 points, and later exchanged for a Moon God River Spring in the faction shop, adding another 10. Combined, he only had 20 points. These increases were mere byproducts he hadn't given much thought to; who could have imagined this obscure stat would prove useful here?

If Mist-Scythe knew his thoughts, his blood pressure might have spiked. Mist-Scythe had prioritized his soul attribute from the very beginning, burning countless resources and points on items to boost it to 19—his prized trump card. To see it fail so completely against Mo Xuanyu was unbearable.

As the Soul Realm shattered, Mo Xuanyu’s consciousness returned to his body. Because Mist-Scythe had initiated the realm, the chains and the Mark of Fate were automatically dispelled. No longer restricted, Mo Xuanyu rose like a nimble panther, lifting his Nightmare Moon blade to strike at Mist-Scythe.

*Clang!*

Mo Xuanyu gave him no chance to recover. After parrying the scythe blade, he followed up with a roundhouse kick.

*Thud!*

Mist-Scythe’s mask was kicked away. Mo Xuanyu stepped forward, his blade sweeping across the man’s neck. For a fleeting moment, it looked as if a blood-red moon had bloomed in the air.

"Your heart is in disarray," Mo Xuanyu said, standing behind him and shaking the blood from his blade.

With his trump card shattered, Mist-Scythe’s will to fight had evaporated. For a melee fighter, once you harbor thoughts of retreat, every move becomes riddled with openings.

"..."

Mist-Scythe clutched his bleeding throat and fell to his knees. He knew he had lost, and lost miserably. His scythe clattered to the ground.

As the white mist in the hall dissipated, the battle between Kain and the other Iron Curtain members also concluded. Experience always prevails; even a dying camel is larger than a horse. Though heavily wounded, Kain’s superior base attributes easily suppressed the Chosen Ones. The scene was rather comical: he sat on an unconscious tank, stepped on an assassin, held a mage by the throat with his left hand, and choked a healer with his right.

"Sorry, Guild Leader... we tried our best," the assassin under Kain’s boot wheezed.

Mo Xuanyu held his blade to Mist-Scythe’s throat. The latter closed his eyes, accepting his fate. As a Chosen One, he had long prepared to die in a mission. To his surprise, Mo Xuanyu didn't seem intent on killing him.

"Kain, could you step aside for a moment? I’d like to have a private word with him," Mo Xuanyu said, gesturing to Kain.

Kain nodded. "No problem."

As Kain moved to haul the Iron Curtain members away, the fragile healer scrambled up. "I'll walk! I'll walk myself!"

Kain shrugged and dragged the others out. Soon, only Mo Xuanyu and the kneeling Mist-Scythe remained in the Sun Hall.

Without his mask, Mist-Scythe’s face was exposed to the sunlight. He looked much as Mo Xuanyu had expected: cold, handsome features, sharp brows, and short, silver-grey hair. He carried an air of chilling, ruthless resolve, like a falcon soaring at high altitudes. But now, the falcon had broken its wings and fallen before Mo Xuanyu.

"So... what do you want from me?" Mist-Scythe choked out, coughing up blood.

"My wolf is dead."

Mo Xuanyu’s statement left Mist-Scythe confused. A wolf? What wolf?

"Are you talking about that little tail of yours?" Mist-Scythe recalled the youth who often followed Mo Xuanyu.

"A little tail? I suppose so," Mo Xuanyu blinked. He withdrew his blade, turned, and sat on a broken stone pillar. "Let’s make a deal. If you agree, I’ll spare you."

"Speak."

Mist-Scythe’s gaze remained indifferent. As a Chosen One, he knew the weak had no leverage against the strong. But as long as there was a chance to live, he wouldn't give up. He craved power, revenge, and the death of those who had trampled upon him.

Mo Xuanyu opened his hand, and a pure white contract scroll appeared. "Sign this, and I won't kill you."

"What must I pay? All my points and items? If so, fine. But I don't have authorization for the high-level gear in the guild warehouse; Iron Curtain isn't my private property," Mist-Scythe said, well-versed in the world’s lack of free lunches.

Mo Xuanyu shook his head slowly. "The contract is simple. You only need to dedicate your strength to me."

Dark clouds obscured the sun; Mo Xuanyu sat in the shadows on the broken pillar, his chin resting on his hand, observing him quietly. His deep blue eyes seemed to pierce through Mist-Scythe’s own, seeing the hidden desires and ambitions within.

*Tick... tock...*

As if bewitched, Mist-Scythe reached out and took the scroll. He snapped back to reality, clutching the contract with red-rimmed eyes, terror dawning on him.

"Is this your talent skill? Can you influence the minds of others?"

As a soul-specialist, Mist-Scythe had deep expertise in the mental realm. His own soul resistance was exceptionally high; it was nearly impossible for anyone of his tier to influence his will or charm him. Yet, Mo Xuanyu had bypassed his mental defenses with ease. If Mo Xuanyu had wanted to, he could have controlled his thoughts entirely.

Why hadn't he? Why let him go?

Mist-Scythe felt a deep, profound sense of helplessness. The stronger one’s mental defenses, the more fragile they become the moment they are shattered. For Mist-Scythe, Mo Xuanyu’s appearance had negated everything he stood for. In combat, he was beaten; in strategy, he was outplayed; even his prized "Soul Shackles" had been easily broken.

With this level of power, how could he ever hope to take revenge against those "people"? Perhaps dying here would be a relief.