Chapter Twenty-Nine: Flames Stretch for Ten Miles

Even though this Palace of Eternal Joy belonged to the Ren family, it did not hinder Liu Chen from continuing with what he intended to do. After all, the true roots of these spiritual treasure families lay mostly in the Jiangnan region—if conflict arose in the future, he could simply head north.

With this calculation in his heart, Liu Chen wasted no more time on unnecessary distractions. He took a small step back, then opened his eyes and summoned the Netherworld Spirit Flame to ignite the aura clinging to the oil lamps.

To prevent any special connection between the three life-lamps and their owners, Liu Chen deliberately lit the hundred bronze oil lamps on the long table first.

Yet the outcome was unexpected. As soon as Liu Chen unleashed the spirit flame, the aura upon the lamps erupted into a blaze as if oil had met fire—so fast it outstripped even the burning of resentment in the Fu family compound in Departure City. He had not even bothered with careful separation; as soon as the Netherworld Spirit Flame sparked, the auras on the three red copper oil lamps flared up instantly.

Not long ago, when Liu Chen was at Luo An’s place, a single bronze oil lamp had shone brilliantly. Now, with a hundred bronze lamps alight, and those three red copper lamps said to be life-lamps, it was as if a bonfire had been stoked—the flames shot upward, visible for ten miles around.

And this visibility for ten miles was no exaggeration. Perhaps because the Netherworld Spirit Flame was no mundane fire, the cold light emitted from the burning aura seemed able to ignore all obstacles. Though within the great hall, the firelight treated the four walls as nothing, piercing straight through them.

Liu Chen found this anomaly rather surprising. Even as the master of the Netherworld Spirit Flame, he would never have guessed it could produce such an effect had he not witnessed it himself.

But he had no time to dwell on the flame’s peculiarities. For at the instant he lit the aura with the spirit flame, he felt a trickling stream, cold as a mountain spring, continuously flowing back into his consciousness. And as the fire grew stronger, the stream became a brook in the mountains.

Such an influx was too much for someone who had only recently been an ordinary man—it was as if a field’s crops, though needing irrigation, were drowned by too much water and thus rotted.

At this moment, Liu Chen’s spirit rapidly swelled under the backflow, overwhelming his composure. Wandering thoughts surged up in countless waves, birthing a thousand wild fantasies, indescribable in their multitude.

Fortunately, Liu Chen’s body was now that of a corpse. Though for various reasons he still retained the seven emotions of a human heart, he lacked a flesh body full of vitality. Thus he was spared from the multitude of cravings ordinary people suffered, and for the moment he could maintain his clarity of mind.

But even so, Liu Chen knew he could not let this continue—he must stop the irrigation of that gurgling stream.

The most direct way to sever the backflow ignited by the spirit flame was to extinguish the flame itself. Yet, regrettably, these two blossoms of spirit flame came to him so easily—they were not cultivated through ordinary Taoist arts or spells, but were in a state where they could only be released, not withdrawn.

Worse still, the aura here seemed unusually thick. Even with such fierce burning, it showed no sign of abating, as if it would go on burning without end.

After pondering a while, Liu Chen realized he had no choice but to close his eyes, hoping this might help. After all, the streams entered his sea of consciousness through his eyes.

Luckily, this had the desired effect. Once his eyes closed, the inflow shrank to a third of what it was—still a strain, but now manageable.

He let out a long sigh, feeling as if he’d survived a disaster. He sternly warned himself that next time he dealt with unfamiliar powers, he must not act recklessly unless he was absolutely certain.

Yet no matter how he warned himself, the mess still had to be cleaned up. Even with his eyes shut, as long as the spirit flame outside burned on, he would have to endure the steady trickle of backflow.

Estimating the time it would take to absorb all of it, Liu Chen was struck with a headache. Even if the burning aura ceased immediately, the accumulated stream outside would keep him busy until nearly dawn.

And by then, the priests in the Palace of Eternal Joy would be rising. In that case, he’d surely be discovered. There was no real danger—the three disciples here were only low-level—but it would be troublesome nonetheless.

Besides, he was, after all, an intruder. He felt a bit guilty, and if a fight broke out, he wouldn’t feel right about using excessive force. The Ren and Lu families both belonged to the lineage of spiritual treasures, but their relations were not good; still, neither could be counted as Liu Chen’s true enemies.

“What a headache!”

While struggling to suppress the chaotic thoughts swelling with his burgeoning spirit, Liu Chen racked his brain for a solution. Soon, however, he sensed something else—a curious chill spreading over his body.

For someone accustomed to a corpse’s form, this was strange indeed. A zombie’s body was, after all, a corpse and felt neither heat nor cold.

Yet this chill crept along his limbs as if alive, slithering across his body like a snake. Liu Chen’s mind, still that of an Earth-born man, couldn’t help but shudder at the thought—he instinctively opened his eyes, unable to resist checking what was happening.

As his eyes opened, he saw streams of translucent liquid, each as thick as a finger, spiraling up and down his body, resembling the orbital paths of planets illustrated in science books.

Yet the instant he opened his eyes, the translucent streams accelerated, surging into his sea of consciousness through his eyes like a dam unleashed.

His head swam again, and he reflexively shut his eyes. In that fleeting moment before they closed, he glimpsed some illusory images, but having closed his eyes so quickly, he couldn’t make them out.

“Perhaps they were just shadows cast by the oil lamps,” he thought after a moment. It was likely a trick of the light, confusing the lamp’s glow with something else.