Chapter 283: Sequence Eight — Soulbinder

At the very moment when Saint Xi En, a peak-ranked Saint of noble status, bowed his head, a nearly imperceptible twitch appeared at the corner of Lu Yan’s always-composed face.

A faint sense of absurdity, something only he himself could feel, quietly bubbled up like an air pocket rising from the depths.

If the mighty Emperor Fengdu truly stood behind him, capable of making divine law manifest with a single word—would he need to scheme so cautiously, even resorting to such thinly veiled intimidation just to buy himself time and space to grow?

Fengdu Emperor did exist, yes. But Saint Xi En would never imagine that the so-called True God he revered… was sitting quietly behind the desk before him.

The so-called divine aura that shook the Seven Gods Church and prompted the use of a zero-level sealing artifact to investigate? It was not a harbinger of divine descent.

It was merely a residual echo—the clash of the Second Heavenly Dao Authority of the Great Transmigration Version brushing against the Veiled Version as Lu Yan crossed between worlds.

To the beings and deities of this realm, that residual might seemed like the descent of a True God—immeasurably vast and awe-inspiring. But to Lu Yan, the source of that ripple, it was no more than a stray spark born of two versions colliding.

At the end of the day, in this Veiled Version, true power and authority still lay with the entrenched Seven Gods Church, whose faithful stretched across all Seven Kingdoms.

As for Lu Yan—he remained an outsider. A foreign variable. A powerful one, yes, but one without deep roots.

Naturally, Lu Yan wasn’t foolish enough to pierce the veil of misunderstanding.

The Seven Gods Church’s misconception—especially that of Xi En and the upper echelons of the Steam God Sect—was precisely the shield Lu Yan needed.

This tacit understanding born of reverence and dread would spare him and his fledgling Guild countless troubles and early confrontations. Most importantly, it would buy him time—precious time.

Time to embed the Guild’s roots throughout every corner of this kingdom.

Time to propagate the underworld’s faith, transforming the illusion of the Heavenly Dao into reality, and forging a genuine transcendental system centered on the Divine Court of the Underworld.

Only then could Lu Yan seize true divine power, molding the fictitious Fengdu Emperor into a true and unshakable God-King.

This unspoken understanding was forming silently.

During the entire meeting with Xi En, Lu Yan never once made any concrete or excessive demands—he didn’t force the church to surrender territory, nor did he request resources.

He merely revealed enough to instill awe.

Likewise, Xi En was perceptive. He asked no probing questions about doctrines or organization. He didn’t even broach sensitive topics like faith distribution.

Both sides, fully aware of the stakes, maintained silence where it mattered most—resulting in a delicate and implicit peace.

Only after Xi En respectfully bowed once more and took his leave did the brief yet monumental meeting finally end.

As the office doors closed and the figure in white disappeared, Lu Yan once again fell into thought.

Xi En might not have held the greatest strength within the Steam God Sect, but he had one unparalleled advantage—he was under a hundred years old.

Only those under a hundred could enter the Great Collapse Version.

That meant Xi En’s mere presence was a testament to his talent.

He could influence many.

Securing his cooperation could help Lu Yan avoid numerous complications.

But the subtle twitch in Lu Yan’s brow seemed to warn him: this wasn’t over.

When the Steam God Sect visited in full next time—that would be the real test.

The office door opened again.

This time, it was Elizabeth Victoria who walked in.

Compared to their first meeting, where she was cautious, probing, and wary, today she was clearly more relaxed. Her beautiful violet eyes held a subtle warmth—a faint attempt at drawing closer on a personal level.

Her gaze toward Lu Yan no longer held only respectful awe. Now, it carried a hint of intimacy, like someone trying to grow closer to a powerful patron.

She wore a deep blue riding dress, finely tailored to her figure, with silver trim that sparkled subtly under the office’s soft light. A white scarf at her neck contrasted against her fair skin.

She offered a courteous bow—still precise, but her tone was noticeably more relaxed.

“Your Grace, I’ve familiarized myself with the Guild’s current structure and urgent affairs.”

“I must say, your ability to organize such power in such a short time is truly astonishing.”

She looked up, smiling politely. Her voice was smooth, laced with just the right amount of flattery.

“The royal family and nobles have already begun to yield. To avoid church interference, the Guild must accelerate its expansion.”

“I have some preliminary ideas. I hope to report them to you and hear your instructions.”

She unconsciously leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them—a subtle gesture of feminine friendliness.

But Lu Yan merely gazed at her, expression unchanging.

He could clearly sense the shift in her mindset—and he understood why.

Elizabeth’s ambition had been ignited. Until she sat upon the throne, she would do whatever it took.

Right now, her greatest reliance was Lu Yan.

She needed to deepen that connection and secure her future.

But Lu Yan didn’t reciprocate.

He leaned back slightly, pulling the distance apart once more, and spoke with calm indifference:

“You’ve taken charge of the Guild’s affairs—handle them as you see fit.”

“Show me your competence through results. That’s more meaningful than words. If there’s nothing else, you may leave.”

She was undeniably beautiful. But until she proved her value, Lu Yan wasn’t about to indulge her with unnecessary signals.

Elizabeth’s smile froze for a moment, and her eyes briefly showed a flicker of surprise. But she quickly recovered, returning to her composed and professional demeanor.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

With that, she offered another bow and left the office without another word.

Watching her go, Lu Yan didn’t linger either.

He stood and melted into the shadows, vanishing silently from the Guild building that now symbolized a rising new power.

He took no carriage.

Alone, like a ghost, he drifted through the intertwined splendor and decay of Orank City’s streets.

His destination: the city’s outskirts—the slums blanketed in coal smoke, poverty, and despair.

The air here reeked of half-burned cheap coal, mingled with damp mold and the stench of rotting trash.

Narrow, muddy alleys were lined with crooked, decrepit shacks ready to collapse at any moment.

Eventually, Lu Yan stopped before a particularly battered wooden hut, even shabbier than its neighbors.

He didn’t knock.

He simply stood there—his will had already pierced the paper-thin walls.

Creak—

The door opened from within.

Inside, the tiny room was suffocatingly cramped. It held no real furniture save for a single broken bedframe.

On that bed, three curled-up figures clung to one another, fast asleep.

In the center was a haggard middle-aged woman, her face gaunt and sallow, hair dry and unkempt, lined with the deep wrinkles of hardship.

Her arms wrapped tightly around two small children—one about five or six, the other even younger.

Even in sleep, her brows were furrowed tight, her body tense with worry and exhaustion.

In the next moment, stardust-like motes filled the air.

A soft white glow, gentle as moonlight, flowed over the slumbering trio.

A miraculous transformation took place.

The woman’s brow slowly unfurrowed. Her lips curved ever so slightly, as if she’d entered a rare, peaceful dream.

Her breathing steadied and deepened—at last, she rested.

Hovering silently beside the bed was a phantom-like figure.

Anna.

She was no longer the timid little girl who’d just stepped onto the path of the extraordinary.

Her entire soul radiated a soft pearlescent glow, gently illuminating the squalid room.

Her soul body had grown vastly more solid—her features clearer, no longer a wispy silhouette.

Her eyes especially shimmered with faint, mysterious light—giving her a sacred air entirely out of place in this squalor.

Anna had mastered the core ability of the Wandering Soul—dream-weaving.

She no longer merely entered vague dreams or conjured simple nightmares.

Now, she could craft vivid, hope-filled dreams like a skilled dreamsmith—infusing them deep into the minds of her targets to soothe their pain.

At this moment, she was carefully maintaining the middle-aged woman’s dream—protecting that fragile peace.

Only when it was stable did she turn around.

When she saw Lu Yan’s silhouette standing silently in the doorway, her soul visibly trembled, her eyes shining with joy and reverence.

“Your Grace…” Her voice echoed with the ethereal resonance of the soul, tinged with excitement.

Lu Yan nodded slightly, eyes scanning the sleeping family before settling on Anna. His tone held a faint, rare note of praise:

“Well done.”

Those two words made Anna’s soul visibly brighten.

She restrained her excitement, waiting for instructions.

Lu Yan’s gaze returned to the slumbering woman.

“I thought you were working in the industrial district—spreading truth, uniting the workers. Why are you here?”

Anna’s bright expression instantly darkened. Her luminous eyes flared with anger, and her glow faltered.

“Your Grace!”

She spoke with frustration:

“I’ve been following your orders—helping the workers dream of peace, giving them comfort in sleep.”

“But… not all workers are kind. Not all the suffering deserve pity.”

“Some stronger, more senior workers abuse the weaker ones. They exploited Aunt Tori.”

“They colluded with a foreman to strip her of her daytime job, leaving her with only grueling night shifts—and that wasn’t enough.”

“They harassed and tormented her, using their little scraps of power for cruelty.”

Her soul shuddered violently at the memories she had glimpsed in those men’s dreams.

“I couldn’t stand it. I gave them nightmares—terrifying ones.”

“And then I traced the dreams to find Aunt Tori and her children. I wanted to help them… at least give them one good night’s sleep.”

Lu Yan listened silently, eyes resting on the sleeping woman.

A moment passed before he spoke:

“You can tell Sain. With his authority, he can punish those men and get justice for her.”

But Anna only shook her head sadly. Her glow dimmed.

“I know Brother Sain is powerful now…”

“But this sort of abuse—it happens everywhere. Every day.”

“Bullying, exploitation, humiliation—so common it’s like air.”

“And because no one dies from it, because it’s not dramatic, Brother Sain can’t just punish everyone.”

“My nightmares scare them—for a while.”

“But once they realize it’s just dreams… they go back to being worse.”

Her voice fell into despair.

“In this chaotic world, law means nothing to the poor.”

“And morality? It was lost long ago to greed and survival.”

Anna’s expression—her very soul—radiated helplessness.

She had power now. And still, it felt like nothing.

Lu Yan watched quietly.

She had grown—from a lost, ignorant girl to someone who could judge right and wrong, someone who used what little strength she had to bring peace.

Her rage. Her grief. Her compassion.

He felt it all.

“You’re right.”

His voice was calm, but every word rang with unshakable weight.

“If law and morality can’t restrain evil…”

“Then we will use transcendence to redraw the lines. To punish. To warn.”

He raised his right hand slowly, palm upward.

A miniature version of Fengdu City materialized in his grasp like a phantom seal.

“Anna.” Lu Yan’s gaze settled on her, solemn as never before.

“Your experience, your choices—they’ve proven you.”

“You wove dreams. You spread peace. You punished the wicked. You’ve gained your own clear understanding of right and wrong.”

“A soul without a body sees truth more clearly. It sees the good and evil of the world.”

“Now, I grant you greater power.”

“No longer a passive dream-weaver.”

“But a guardian of order.”

As he spoke, a streak of pure spiritual brilliance shot from the seal and sank into Anna’s forehead.

“The Underworld Path. Sequence Eight.”

Lu Yan’s voice rang like a bell through Anna’s soul.

“Soulbinder!”
(End of Chapter)