Chapter 4 The Wildcard Princess and Her Heist
1222 Words
"Lawrence, We say this one final time—surrender the Soul Passage Coffin, and We shall grant you rebirth with a millennium of protection from Our forces."
When she spoke again, the woman's voice shed its sultry tones, hardening with imperial authority.
The baritone belonging to Lawrence ignored her completely, instead berating Henry like a master scolding an incompetent apprentice.
"You're the damned heir of the Tomb-Burial Sect! Get your s**t together! Don't you f*****g disgrace me before this crazy b***h's mere projection!"
Golden ripples erupted from the coffin the instant he stopped speaking, violently shredding the shackles of spatial fractures and prismatic beams before hurtling toward the phoenix chariot.
The woman atop the chariot arched an eyebrow, flicking her fingers dismissively.
A frostborn phoenix materialized above her, massive wings fanning out to disperse the golden waves.
Blink—and the two titans collided, coffin against phoenix in a shower of sparks.
Icy talons scraped against the golden surface, each strike repelled by pulsing divine energy.
Caught in this divine crossfire, Henry finally understood Lawrence's warning about "going all-out."
The moment the coffin moved, his blood, strength, even his soul force gushed forth like a collapsing dam.
Darkness swallowed him before the terror could register.
At Rebirth Cave, before the Spirit-Evolving Millstone.
Man and coffin stood in deadly standoff before the colossal grinding wheel of heaven and earth.
After a charged silence, the woman's voice cut through with unyielding, imperial wrath:
"Lawrence, in your current state, you're no match for Us—not even with that relic!"
The golden coffin trembled silently, offering no rebuttal.
At length, Lawrence materialized in the flesh before the coffin.
He embodied the archetype of a righteous hero—square-jawed with perfectly symmetrical features that radiated integrity.
His features were bold and striking—thick brows, a straight nose, and a broad, well-defined mouth. His gaze was unwavering, piercing like honed steel, radiating an intensity that could bore through mountains.
But the real kicker? The man had distinct crinkles when he smiled!
Had Josh been conscious, he'd have blurted out the snarkiest remark:
"Damn, this takes contradictions to a whole new level!"
Lawrence fixed his gaze upon the woman before him, his rich baritone laced with exasperation.
"Larie, you know as well as I do—that coffin isn't something you can wrest from its rightful place."
The familiarity in his tone suggested history between them.
The woman's facade of calm fractured, her earlier allure replaced by seething fury.
"What does it matter? The Ethereal Genesis Platter, the Soul Passage Coffin, the Heavenborne Cauldron of Beings, and the Sword of Annihilation—these four artifacts are the foundational pillars upholding our world's balance!"
"You think dragging it into rebirth is any different from letting it choose a new master? I forbid it!"
With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she radiated regal contempt.
Lawrence, however, just shrugged, his expression turning deliberately nonchalant.
"Too late for that. The coffin's not mine to command anymore."
"Larie, stand down."
The woman's brow furrowed as if trying to unravel the truth behind his words. Then—realization struck like lightning.
Her eyes widened. There was a third presence here—Josh!
With a mere gesture, she plucked him effortlessly from the gilded coffin.
Lawrence didn't lift a finger to stop her. Instead, he crossed his arms, smirking.
"You know how the Soul Passage Coffin works. I'm just its keeper."
"That Tomb-Burial Sect's successor? He's the one it chose."
"Try all you want—you won't take it."
Larie's lips trembled, tears glimmering like morning dew as her regal mask slipped momentarily.
"How could you...?"
"Had it remained yours... perhaps..."
Lawrence heaved a bone-weary sigh.
"Ah... Had keeping it in my hands availed anything, why would matters have come to this? Larie..."
His words still hung in the air when the woman's face contorted—a fanatical cruelty twisting her porcelain features.
"Your recklessness ends here, Lawrence! I'll never let the Soul Passage Coffin fall into some upstart whelp's grasp!"
"Rebirth? Not while I draw breath!"
With a dismissive flick of her finger—as effortless as brushing off a gnat—she hurled Henry back into the gilded coffin. Then, rising from her phoenix carriage in a whirl of imperial wrath, she obliterated Lawrence's spectral form with a single devastating strike.
"Larie, this is beyond reason!!" Lawrence's voice thundered with unprecedented severity.
*Hmph!*
The darkness itself seemed to shudder as countless doppelgängers of the woman materialized—each a perfect replica yet uniquely regal. Some stood in majestic splendor, others draped in translucent silks; some adorned in sovereign robes, others radiating celestial grace. As one, they raised their hands, and the phoenix carriage blazed like a newborn star.
Ethereal blades of light converged from all directions, weaving the golden coffin into a luminous chrysalis of power within the blink of an eye.
"Since you belong to the Tomb-Burial Sect," she hissed, venom dripping from every syllable, "you'll carry coffins and dig graves until the stars themselves die!"
With a vicious s***h of her sleeve, the phoenix carriage—now towing its captive cocoon—ripped through the void like parchment, vanishing into the Rebirth Cave's depths.
***
In the Occulted Cosmos Sphere, the frozen northern wastes bowed to none but the Radiant Phoenix Sanctum.
That fateful day, when the Radiant Phoenix Immortal Emperor returned from southern lands, her mile-long procession painted the horizon. Yet from that moment onward, her brow remained stormcloud-dark—the realm holding its breath. Who dared provoke the only woman among the Three Immortal Emperors?
One hundred sunrises later, when the Empress emerged from seclusion, her first decree turned the marrow of even supreme experts to ice:The Radiant Phoenix Sanctum sealed its borders!
Instantly, the entire Sanctum fell under an oppressive hush, its inhabitants trembling in fearful silence.
……
……
The Radiant Phoenix Sanctum's domain sprawled endlessly, with the westernmost Valley of Broken Dreams standing as the sacred ancestral grounds—governing three prefectures: Mount Cross, Verdant Pine Valley, and the Ancient Realm of Celestial Echoes.
Sunrest Ridge in Mount Cross marked the entrance to the Sanctum's War Tomb!
Here, blizzards blotted out the sky, and endless rows of graves stretched across the frozen earth.
Among the tomb-sweepers, a silver-haired youth now labored, his forehead framed by flowing white locks.
Henry was fuming with frustration.
Where was the epic journey he'd been promised? The cultivation? The celestial beauties and treasures ripe for the taking?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing!
Only a cramped cell with lightning-cracked iron bars...
He'd been wasting away in this frigid stone prison for over a month, with nothing but a slab of rock for a bed.
His Spirit Sea felt like molasses, his Sea of Consciousness barren—not a shred of power to call upon.
He was certain he'd been sealed.
Though the details after his blackout remained hazy, he could connect the dots.
No wonder Lawrence had called that scantily clad woman a "madwoman."
Getting hijacked during rebirth—a premium technique even by Cultivation World standards?
What absolute nonsense!
To make matters worse,
Lawrence might as well be dead for all the response he gave, no matter how Henry shouted.
The golden Soul Passage Coffin lay dormant in his Spirit Sea, its faint pulses the only light in this sea of darkness.
- Writer
