C9 Ye Mo's Coming of Age Ceremony

"Dad, what's going on?" Ye Mo was now fully awake, rubbing his eyes and poking his head out with a look of bewilderment.

Ye Wuya glanced down at the large crow that was still twitching, shook his head, and chuckled, "Nothing to worry about, go back to sleep."

"Oh..." Ye Mo withdrew and settled back against the wooden plank, his eyes heavy with sleep.

"By the way, Mo, are you hungry?" Ye Wuya's voice drifted in from outside the carriage.

"Hmm?" Ye Mo lifted his eyelids inquiringly.

"I'll roast a bird for you. I'm quite the expert at barbecuing," Ye Wuya's voice called out again.

"Hmm!" Ye Mo's eyes sparkled with excitement.

Crackle...

In a desolate wilderness under the glow of a full moon, a dazzling bonfire blazed on an open stretch of ground. Two figures sat beside it, chatting and laughing. One wielded a longsword from which a bird, about the size of a duck, hung. It was expertly being turned and roasted by the fire, occasionally sprinkled with spices, sizzling enticingly against the flames.

Beside the bonfire were Ye Mo and his father. At that moment, Ye Mo, looking up at his father with eyes full of eager anticipation, seemed no different from the boy he once was, fixated on the juicy crow as he salivated.

Ye Wuya's mind wandered back fifteen years to a similar scene: Little Ye Mo in his arms, gazing with innocent eyes as he devoured a roasted bird.

"Dad, is it ready yet? I'm so hungry I could die!" Ye Mo blurted out, though his gaze remained locked on the tempting crow.

"Easy there. Do you want it raw?" Ye Mo's words snapped Ye Wuya back to the present, and with an indulgent smile, he removed the roasted crow from the fire and held it up to Ye Mo's mouth.

Gulp.

"Hmm... No... I'll wait a bit longer." Despite his protest, Ye Mo couldn't resist sniffing the aromatic scent deeply.

"Haha..." Ye Wuya's laughter rang out, and for a brief moment, the father and son duo cast aside any troubles, lost in the simple joy of the moment.

The night dragged on, and in the blink of an eye, dawn broke. Ye Wuya, with his back to the rising sun, guided the carriage slowly through the dense fog. Despite appearances of ease, a closer look revealed Ye Wuya's face etched with tension, his eyes darting around, ever vigilant.

By this time, the father and son had long left Strihgan City behind. In these parts, low-level Soul Beasts were known to prowl, prompting Ye Wuya to keep his nerves taut, taking no chances.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Out of nowhere, a bizarre, fishy wind swept through the miasma-laden forest, stirring the thick fog all around.

Awooo... The old horse neighed mournfully, rooted to the spot, refusing to move despite Ye Wuya's soothing words and urging.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Another gust swept by, and Ye Wuya's keen spiritual sense picked up on an unusual presence—a scent of danger lurking nearby.

Amidst the suffocating tension, Ye Wuya could no longer remain passive. He channeled Soul Power into his longsword, scanning his surroundings while extending his Divine Sense to detect any out-of-the-ordinary disturbances.

Wu...

A low, resonant growl, heavy with malevolence, emanated from the grass ahead of the carriage. A menacing figure with bared teeth emerged slowly from the underbrush.

Ye Wuya, sword at the ready, had already taken notice. Upon closer inspection, he realized the threatening creature was a Soul Beast, specifically a fourth-level Windchaser Wolf. With strength on par with a Soul Cultivator in the fourth level of Soul Transformation, it demanded respect.

The Windchaser Wolf's coat was a greyish-brown, bristling like steel needles, with a distinctive tuft of snow-white fur on its forehead—a detail Ye Wuya had initially missed. Now, as the wolf edged closer, the significance became clear.

"Not good, this is the Wolf King..." Ye Wuya muttered to himself. While he was more than capable of handling a Windchaser Wolf, the realization that this one was a Wolf King sent a jolt of alarm through him. Wolf Kings never traveled alone. With this thought, Ye Wuya's gaze shot around the area. As expected, after a rustling in the underbrush, a pack of Windchaser Wolves emerged from hiding, their crimson eyes fixating on Ye Wuya and Ye Mo in the carriage, encircling them in an impenetrable ring.

Impressive! At that moment, Ye Wuya and his son Ye Mo found themselves encircled by an unexpected pack of Soul Beasts. There were no fewer than twenty wolves in the pack. Apart from the Wolf King, who had reached the fourth level, the rest were all mature wolves at the third level. Each wolf was snarling, their bodies tensed and creeping forward with stealthy steps towards Ye Wuya and the carriage.

Ye Wuya's face was ashen, with fine beads of sweat emerging from his skin. The longsword in his grip shone with a faint light along the two distinctive marks etched into the blade.

"Are they Soul Beasts?"

Suddenly, from within the carriage, Ye Mo's voice emerged, calm and steady.

Ye Wuya, with his brow furrowed in concern at the encroaching wolves, felt a pang of bitterness upon hearing his son's voice. "Mo, stay inside. Your father can handle this."

But with a light rustling, the carriage curtain was drawn back, and Ye Mo stepped out resolutely. As he did so, the old horse hitched to the carriage let out a piercing neigh that echoed to the heavens.

Stepping down from the carriage, Ye Mo surveyed the wolves slowly advancing on them, his heart a tumult of emotions. This was his first encounter with a living Soul Beast, and it was far more perilous than he could have ever imagined. His gaze shifted to his father, Ye Wuya, taking in the stern profile of his face.

"Mo, there's no need to fear. Daddy's here," Ye Wuya said, his voice a blend of vigilance and reassurance as he moved closer to his son in these desperate moments.

Ye Mo's heart clenched at his father's words, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He bowed his head, seemingly deep in thought.

The wolves drew nearer, their low growls filling the tense air.

"Very well! Today, these beasts will witness the Ye family's famed Spirit Severing sword technique, the Sixteen Sword Force!" Realizing the wolves were nearly upon them, Ye Wuya, who was only at the fifth level of the Apocalypse, knew evasion was futile. He summoned all his Soul Power, ready to unleash the formidable sword technique.

"Father, go now while there's still a chance. I'm as good as dead. I don't want you to die here too."

As Ye Wuya was poised to strike, Ye Mo's words caught him off guard, causing him to turn his head woodenly and gaze at the calm visage before him. Ye Mo's serene expression felt alien to Ye Wuya.

At fifteen or sixteen, Ye Mo's lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile. He paid no heed to the wolves or to Ye Wuya, drawing a gleaming dagger from his belt and clutching the blade in his palm. The blade cut deep, letting blood flow freely from his grasp.

"Dad, you can't keep shielding me forever. From this moment on, I'm an adult. This is my rite of passage... Thank you for everything over the years." With those final words, Ye Mo took off toward the weakest part of the encirclement, his blood leaving a crimson trail as he plunged into the jungle.

It all unfolded in the blink of an eye, as if Ye Mo had it all planned out. Ye Wuya had no time to speak before realizing Ye Mo had vanished into the forest. He could only watch helplessly as the wolf pack surged like a tide, eagerly following the blood trail.

"Mo! Come back!"

A cry of anguish tore from Ye Wuya as his eyes blazed red. He lifted his longsword and surged into battle, his swift strike felling an adult Windchaser Wolf, blood spraying in all directions.

The wolves, driven by their thirst for human blood, pressed on relentlessly. Seemingly indifferent to the battle raging behind them, Ye Wuya fought his way through, his sword force, once intricate and sharp, now reduced to raw ferocity. His crimson gaze fixed on the forest's depths, searching through the endless foliage for any sign of Ye Mo, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Ye Wuya tried to push forward, but the relentless Windchaser Wolves harried him. After several exchanges, he was left battered and wounded.

"Damn it!"

Ye Wuya was besieged by seven or eight Windchaser Wolves, unable to break free. He could only watch helplessly as the rest of the pack vanished into the depths of the forest...

Puff...

With a swift strike of his longsword, Ye Wuya decapitated a Windchaser Wolf, its head flying off into the distance as blood gushed out like a fountain.

"Ah... I will kill all of you!" After the wolves pursuing Ye Mo had finally disappeared from his sight, an overwhelmed Ye Wuya let out a cry of anguish.

Tap, tap, tap...

Meanwhile, Ye Mo, his face ashen, was running forward at a brisk pace. Hearing Ye Wuya's agonized roar in the distance, Ye Mo felt a deep bitterness but remained silent, not looking back. The Windchaser Wolves were relentlessly closing in, now less than thirty feet away from him.

Huff... Huff...

Gasping for air, Ye Mo charged through the lush expanse ahead. It was undeniable that his heart was magnifying the despair that had haunted him for years. Suddenly, he tripped over a branch and tumbled to the ground, rolling violently across the grass due to his momentum.

Cough, cough, cough...

"Ah... It's finally over." Lying on his back, Ye Mo experienced time crawling at an excruciatingly slow pace in his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the Windchaser Wolf King approaching him. After a bitter chuckle, he struggled to his feet.

Once he was up, Ye Mo realized he was at the edge of a cliff – a serendipitous gravesite seemingly chosen by fate. This realization ignited a defiant fire within him. With a sudden burst of fury, he opened his arms wide, his pitch-black eyes glaring at the wolves before him, and bellowed, "Come on, come and kill me!" His voice was chillingly cold and devoid of emotion.

Wu...

At Ye Mo's words, the Windchaser Wolves halted, each lifting their heads to howl skyward. The Wolf King, distinguished by the diamond-shaped snow-white fur on its forehead, did not pause. Its dagger-like canines gleamed in the biting wind. The Wolf King, pacing deliberately, finally stopped less than two feet from Ye Mo, ready to strike down the diminutive being before it.