King's Awakening-Chapter 747 - - The Mantis Catches the Cicada

Chapter 747: Chapter 747 – The Mantis Catches the Cicada

In the Cultivation World, Soul Seizing is a fascinating yet forbidden cultivation technique. It refers to the process where cultivators use special methods to penetrate their souls or consciousness into the bodies of others, obtaining a new physical entity and achieving rebirth.

The process of Soul Seizing requires the practitioner to have formidable cultivation strength and the capability to manipulate souls, and also to locate a suitable host. Once they find an appropriate host, they undergo a series of preparations, including utilizing spells or Secret Techniques to weaken the host’s consciousness power, laying the groundwork for Soul Seizing.

Once the preparations are done, the practitioner infuses his soul or consciousness into the host’s body and faces a severe challenge against the original consciousness of the host. If the practitioner has formidable cultivation strength and a stronger resolve, they may be able to control the host, expelling its awareness out and hence, completing the Soul Seizing rebirth process.

Soul Seizing mainly serves two purposes. Firstly, it enables cultivators to prolong their lives, evading the issue of their own physical bodies aging. By seizing the bodies of others, the cultivators can acquire a young and new life, thereby continuing their cultivation. Secondly, it can help cultivators acquire even more powerful cultivation resources and potential. Some hosts may have gifted cultivation talents, and by seizing them, the cultivators could instantly garner these potentials, speeding up their cultivation process.

However, Soul Seizing is a perilous and risky cultivation practice. If the practitioner’s cultivation is not powerful enough, it may even lead to Soul Seizing failure, soul loss, or even death. Simultaneously, Soul Seizing infringes upon the host’s rights, possibly inflicting enormous pain and damage upon them.

Overall, Soul Seizing in the Cultivation World is an exceptionally intricate and risky cultivation method, with the functionality of rebirth and acquiring more substantial resources, but coupled with a series of moral and ethical issues.

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From the very beginning, White Mitchell maintained a skeptical attitude towards the words of the old beggar.

In such a dangerous place, White Mitchell wouldn’t be foolish enough to completely trust a stranger who had just tried to kill him.

Thus, from the very start, White Mitchell prepared adequately, using the power of the Origin Power to protect his Divine Soul.

Of course, the old beggar is still unaware of this.

In the old beggar’s eyes, seizing White Mitchell’s body was almost a done deal.

In fact, the old beggar hadn’t initially considered seizing White Mitchell.

Otherwise, he would have already seized the body of the young man who had just died.

He had been wandering outside the ancient temple for countless years, solely to find a suitable person to seize.

Ordinary people couldn’t withstand his power, and it would be pointless to seize them.

However, through his clash with White Mitchell, the old beggar discovered a mysterious and potent energy within White Mitchell.

This power, even at his prime, would have forced him to retreat hastily.

If he could seize White Mitchell, he could take control of this magical power inside White Mitchell’s body.

“Hehe, young man, being seized by me is your fortune. From now on, I will reclaim my revered position in your body,” the old beggar said with a playful tone.

White Mitchell responded with a cold smile: “Really? Let’s see if you have got what it takes.”

As the words fell, White Mitchell immediately operated the Origin Power to combat the old beggar’s powerful Divine Soul.

Seeing this, the old beggar casually laughed, waved his hand, and a gust of wind as sharp as a blade whizzed towards White Mitchell.

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White Mitchell’s eyes were filled with gravity, and his movement technique suddenly exploded, as if carrying a shadow, he slid past the wind blade. Under the onslaught of the mighty wind, he perceived the blows from the powerful Divine Soul forces, like tumultuous waves in the sea, sweeping towards his world of thought.

A blurry scene appeared in his mind, seemingly an ancient valley, tranquil and august, cloaked in a mysterious aura. White Mitchell’s Divine Soul wandered in this ancient valley, attempting to discover the true identity of the old beggar.

However, the old beggar’s Divine Soul Power was tremendously strong, striking White Mitchell’s mind like a hammer. His Divine Soul was trapped, as if in an endless maze with no exit in sight. He began to feel a trace of exhaustion and helplessness, but he gritted his teeth, resolutely persisting.

Seeing White Mitchell gradually worn out from the impact of the Divine Soul, the old beggar was even more smug. Disregarding everything, he continued to launch attacks on White Mitchell’s mind. The wind blade came once again, harshly chopping at White Mitchell, blood spattered and his body flew into the air.

White Mitchell persisted, gritting his teeth. The visions in his mind became clear again.

The old beggar scoffed, raised both hands, and instantly conjured up a huge mountain in the air, pressing towards White Mitchell. The tremendous pressure made it hard for him to breathe, and his footsteps faltered.

However, White Mitchell wasn’t crushed. He struggled continuously, striving to resist the pressure of the mountain. His body was drenched in blood, but his eyes remained resolute. He would hold on until the very last moment.

Suddenly, his body underwent a change and radiated a mysterious light. This was his Origin Power, stimulated to its maximum strength. His body transformed into a stream of light, darting like a meteor, easily evading the mountain’s pressure.

The old beggar revealed a shocked expression, not expecting White Mitchell to have such a formidable trump card. His envy and hatred for White Mitchell intensified, and he decided to annihilate White Mitchell once and for all, and seize his body.

Once again, he conjured the wind blade. The blade of wind, like the light of a knife, tore through the sky aimed at White Mitchell’s heart. White Mitchell’s cool eyes flashed with a trace of fierceness. He used all his efforts to dodge using the Origin Power while brandishing a sabre in his hand.

His movements were swift and fluid, the sword light sparkling as it braced for the old beggar’s fierce wind blade. Two powerful forces collided in mid-air, sending out a shower of sparks. White Mitchell went all out, slashing towards the old beggar.

But, the old beggar wasn’t easy to deal with either.

The Divine Soul power within him began to alter, a chilling and dreadful aura permeated, as if he had entered hell. The ground started to crack open, stirring molten lava and black smoke. Shadowy figures of ghosts emerged out of the flames, letting out ghastly, heart-wrenching screams.

White Mitchell’s body twitched slightly, sensing the threat emanating from hell, yet demonstrating no signs of retreat. With gritted teeth and a firm grip on his sabre, he looked at the old beggar with unwavering determination.

The old beggar became even more ruthless, and countless wind blades rushed towards them. The terrifying aura enveloped the area. White Mitchell dodged with all his might but was still unable to completely evade it. His body was slashed and blood spattered. Biting his teeth, he endured the pain and continued his fierce battle with the old beggar.

In the hellish scene, White Mitchell’s expression gradually grew puzzled, he felt an unknown force corroding his will. His body gradually weakened, and his power began to dwindle.

Seeing this, the old beggar let out a delighted laugh, he felt victory was not far from him. He continued to use various vicious tricks, and the Wind Blade, like the light of darkness, swept across, making it almost impossible for White to resist.

White Mitchell gradually felt powerless, his breathing hurried, and pain surged in his chest. His vision began to blur, and the surrounding scenery twisted as if he was in hell.

The Eighteenth Layer of Hell is described as the land of reincarnation in Buddhism. It is the habitat of various kinds of evil spirits and demons, such as evil spirits, asuras, Yama, Black and White Impermanence, Raksha, and so on. The scene was filled with a terrifying and eerie ambiance.

When White Mitchell stepped into the Eighteenth Layer of Hell, an eerie chill rushed towards him. From that moment on, he felt his body become extraordinarily heavy, as if bound by invisible gravity. A chaotic darkness filled his sight, and he could only see a few feet away with his naked eyes.

Layer after layer in Hell, each one a pinnacle of death and pain. In the First Layer of Hell, evil spirits ran rampant, they were cunning and teased the sinners with their sharp claws, tearing their bodies, and extending their endless pain. Hearing the sharp screams echoing deep from Hell, White felt nauseous.

Entering the Second Layer of Hell, a smell of blood and stench pervaded the air. Asuras were lunging at an astonishing speed, the upper halves of their bodies were brutally ugly humans with thorny beast claws on their lower bodies. The Asuras were bloodthirsty, their breath was filled with stench. Without mercy, they were gnawing on the sinners’ corpses, delighting in their ordeal, making one shudder in cold.

Just as he entered the Third Layer of Hell, a huge and dignified Yama appeared in front of White Mitchell. He was dressed in black robes, his eyes sharp, exuding an inviolable dignity. Yama stretched out a withered finger and drew a line in the air, as if tearing through an illusory boundary, and entered the Fourth Layer of Hell.

White Mitchell felt the air around him suddenly become heavy, and a pair of Black and White Impermanence appeared beside him. Black Impermanence wore a soft hat with thick brows and fierce eyes; White Impermanence wore a phoenix crown with a thin, bone-like face and grim eyes. They wore black and white monk’s robes, held ghost-head staffs, and blocked the light behind their towering skeletal wings. The Black Impermanence said coldly, “Once you enter Hell, you have to pay the price.” However, the White Impermanence suddenly let out a chilling laugh, making White shudder all over.

Next, White saw a group of gruesome-faced Rakshas floating in the sky of the Fifth Layer of Hell. They had human’s upper bodies, and bird’s claws for their lower bodies, their bodies were covered in sharp feathers. Rakshas were bloodthirsty, and amidst their troop, bloody food was continuously being torn apart, crying out in extreme sounds. They couldn’t help but open their mouths, waiting for the next prey to come.

A chill ran through White’s heart, he could feel the greed and cruelty in these Rakshas’ eyes. A cold wind blew past, floating to his ears were the sinners’ suppressed groans and fearful wails.

In the Sixth Layer of Hell, White Mitchell felt a sea of fire as hot as flames. The whole hell was a red furnace, despairing flames burning, roasting sinners’ bodies into charred coal. The sinners were entwined by the flames, let out sharp screams, and their bones burned with a crackling noise. White Mitchell felt the heat in the air, as if it was going to burn him to ashes.

Looking up at the Seventh Layer of Hell, White saw countless souls floating in the darkness. These souls had lost their bodies, only leaving behind skeletons and cold eyes. They let out wailing sounds, and those sounds seemed to be the voice of despair from the depths of hell, leaving deep stings in White’s heart. The souls had nowhere to escape, they were bound in hell, destined to suffer forever.

Prepare to enter the Eighth Layer of Hell, White saw a group of demon beasts with human faces emerge from the darkness. They were huge in shape, with twisted faces, holding knives in their hands, and spewing fire from their mouths. These demons were bloodthirsty, devouring sinners’ blood and flesh, displaying terrifying power and brutal nature. Their eyes were flashing with evil, making people shudder without cold.

In the Ninth Layer of Hell, White faced a towering iron gate. The gate was engraved with images of evil spirits, emitting gusts of yin wind. White could feel an endless pain and horror behind the door. When he opened the iron door, a dazzling light shot over, making White Mitchell’s eyes hurt so much that he couldn’t open them.

When he recovered his sight, White Mitchell found himself in a green toxic mist, crying echoed in his ears. The Tenth Layer of Hell was filled with countless kinds of poisons, each of which was enough to destroy a person’s body and soul. Poison dripped from the sky, merged with the bones on the ground, forming a terrifying ambiance. White avoided the toxic mist, dared not to take a breath, for fear of being annihilated.

The Eleventh Layer of Hell, a huge cold cave, humans and beasts were frozen into slurry. The ice was filled with etchings of torturing sinners, the bloody scene made people feel a cold shiver. White Mitchell felt an icy chill that seemed to freeze him solid, leaving him barely able to move. He proceeded with the utmost caution, the ice beneath his feet making a hair-raising crunching noise, as if it would break at any moment.

Entering the Twelfth Layer of Hell, White Mitchell saw countless tight wires like venomous snakes wrapped around the sinners. Every wire penetrated the flesh, and blood gushed out from the wounds, forming a sea of blood. Sinners were tightly bound by the wires, unable to break free, only to endure endless pain. White Mitchell felt a chill rushing towards him, as if every wire was going to pierce his skin.

Afterward, White Mitchell stepped into the Thirteenth Layer of Hell. His sight was enveloped by darkness, without light. Infinite bloodlust and pain permeated it, the Messengers of Hell were tormenting demons and sinners. They were devoid of emotions, only aiming to implement their torment on living beings. White Mitchell felt his heart becoming hollow and dark, as if the shadows of demons and the Messengers of Hell were subtly spreading on him.

Upon entering the Fourteenth Layer of Hell, White Mitchell saw a colossal furnace, within which flames raged furiously. Within these flames, demons were torturing the souls of the sinners. The whole space was filled with screams of agony, and breathing became difficult for White Mitchell. He staggered backwards, but no matter how far he went, the heat and terror of the flames pursued him relentlessly.

The Fifteenth Layer of Hell was a massive labyrinth, its walls lined with sharp blades and spikes. There was no exit in the maze; myriad sinners were forced to wander aimlessly within, unable to find a way out. White Mitchell lost his way; blades and spikes grazed his body, spilling blood onto the ground as a gruesome testament of his plight. His spirit began to crumble, and he was shrouded in despair.

The Sixteenth Layer of Hell was a swampy wasteland in a state of pitch-black chaos. Those sinners trapped in it were stuck deep in the mud, unable to break free. White Mitchell stepped onto the mud, his feet being swallowed by the heavy damp earth. He looked at the struggling souls in the mud, a mixture of helplessness and fear intertwining in his heart.

In the Seventeenth Layer of Hell, White Mitchell found himself in a sea of blood, the blood solidifying into thick crimson ground. The stench and gut-wrenching sight of blood made him nauseous. Within the sea, demons chased sinners, wielding sharp weapons to slice their bodies into fragments. White Mitchell felt terrified, his heartbeat merging with the demons’ roars into a cacophonous mix.

Finally, White Mitchell reached the Eighteenth Layer of Hell. He found himself atop a massive Mountain of Hell, where countless flames burned atop the peaks. These flames, akin to demonic eyes, stared fixatedly at White Mitchell. He could feel the endless malice and sinister power seeping from the mountain. White Mitchell endured the scorching torment, his skin charred by the flames, the pain almost causing him to lose consciousness.

The sight of the eighteen layers of hell was hair-raising. Endless terror and pain converged there, each layer rendering White Mitchell an unprecedented sense of despair and fear.

Quite clearly, these were illusions created by the old beggar.

However, these illusions were terrifyingly real, as if White Mitchell were truly in the eighteen layers of hell.

Just as White Mitchell was about to succumb to the horrific illusions, the voice of Origin Power suddenly rang out: “White Mitchell, wake up, wake up quickly!”

Hearing the call of Origin Power, White Mitchell’s consciousness gradually cleared, and he struggled to break free from the illusion. Slowly, his Divine Soul Power awakened, and the powerful Soul Fire ignited, illuminating the darkness in the illusion.

Guided by the Divine Soul Power, White Mitchell found a way to escape the illusion. He quickly left the virtual eighteen layers of hell and returned to the real world.

Everything was different. The sky was ink-black, and the wind-blown sand made it difficult to open one’s eyes. The ground was covered in ruins, with debris and broken walls strewn everywhere, the entire city plunged into chaos and deathly silence.

White Mitchell looked around and found that the old beggar had vanished. He took a deep breath, amplified his Divine Soul Power, and prepared to counterattack.

Suddenly, a powerful force attacked from behind. White Mitchell quickly dodged and turned around to see. The old beggar transformed into a black shadow, like a demon descending to earth, his eyes ferocious and vicious.

“Quite surprising! You actually managed to break free from the illusions I created? It seems there are still many secrets hidden within you.” The old beggar sneered, “However, these secrets will ultimately become mine.”

“Old bastard, trying to seize my soul? You’re far from ready!” White Mitchell smirked.

“Hahaha!” The old beggar bellowed with laughter, “Early? Hehe… Young man, you really don’t know about the vastness of the sky and the thickness of the earth!”

White Mitchell felt a tightening in his chest as he sensed the powerful aura emanating from the old beggar. He realized that this battle would be a fight to the death.