Chapter Fifty: Reclaiming My Subordinates

"Heh heh!" Lin Fan grinned, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth, yet his eyes shone with unwavering brightness.

"What are you laughing at?" For reasons unknown, at that moment, Old Seven Zhang felt a chill crawl up his spine as he saw Lin Fan’s smile, his face changing drastically. He instinctively gathered his inner energy, ready to strike should Lin Fan so much as make a move.

"I'm laughing because I never thought I'd have to use this technique in the end!" Lin Fan suddenly lifted his head. The whites and pupils of his eyes vanished, leaving only a web of intertwining silvery threads. In an instant, his eyes became a field of silver.

"Not good—!" If, moments before, Old Seven Zhang had merely felt uneasy, now he was like a man sitting atop needles, his entire being engulfed by an overwhelming sense of peril—the most intense he'd ever experienced. Even his scalp tingled with fear.

Without a shred of hesitation, the energy he'd been gathering burst forth, ready to explode.

But at that precise moment, his mind was engulfed by a sudden void—

With a thud, Old Seven Zhang's body slumped to the side, collapsing heavily into the snow, motionless and silent.

To his dying breath, Old Seven Zhang could not understand how a youth he had thought so easy to capture could possess so many hidden cards—profound blade techniques, formidable cultivation arts, a powerful physique, battle experience beyond his years, and finally, this unknown move that claimed his life.

"Uncle Seven—!" In the distance, Zhang Yi witnessed the scene and his eyes nearly burst with rage. While he had little affection for this uncle, it was undeniable that the old man was the very foundation upon which he planned to dominate the Zhang Clan.

Now, with his uncle dead, one of the trump cards he could use against the Zhang Clan had vanished. Even if he advanced to become a Pulse-Connecting Realm expert, he no longer dared act rashly, for the Zhang Clan would be left without a mid-stage Pulse-Connecting Realm guardian. Should the Mo Clan attack, who could defend against them?

Unless, of course, he sought only vengeance—wreaking havoc, then abandoning the Zhang Clan’s lands and assets to the Mo Clan, leaving Panlong City behind. But could he truly accept that?

He could not!

"Go! Kill him for me!" Zhang Yi roared, pointing at Lin Fan and intending to order his men to charge.

But at that moment, not one of his subordinates moved. Instead, fear filled their eyes, and, step by step, they began retreating.

Seeing this, Zhang Yi’s fury gave way to sudden realization. The Lin Fan before him was not the same youth they once thought to possess only mere Qi-Gathering cultivation.

This Lin Fan had slain his Uncle Seven, a man with peak early-stage Pulse-Connecting Realm strength!

None among them could hope to stand against him. In fact, they all risked dying miserably here.

"If any of you dare take another step back, you will all die," came a calm voice, ringing coolly in the ears of Zhang Yi and his nine followers. Their faces changed in unison, and none dared move a muscle.

At that moment, Lin Fan stepped forward, eyes still silver and expressionless, his face devoid of emotion like a supreme deity.

"Surrender, or die."

The meaning was unmistakably clear. Yet these simple words made all nine of Zhang Yi’s subordinates turn to him. Each had sworn a soul oath to their Second Master; all decisions rested in his hands. Even if they wished to yield to Lin Fan, as long as Zhang Yi refused, the soul oath would claim their lives with a single thought.

Soul oaths were extremely effective against anyone below the Pulse-Connecting Realm. Only upon reaching that stage did the strength of one’s soul increase with cultivation. If a soul oath made before this realm was broken, half the soul’s power would be lost, which, for those below Pulse-Connecting, meant certain death. If a cultivator had reached the Pulse-Connecting Realm, the loss would be grave injury, and for those mid-stage or higher, perhaps only minor injury.

Thus, when Old Seven Zhang had tried to subdue Lin Fan, he had not demanded a soul oath, but a contract. He feared Lin Fan’s talent might allow him to reach the Pulse-Connecting Realm too quickly, making him impossible to control.

This was why all the great clans treated Pulse-Connecting Realm experts with such courtesy. To truly bind someone of that caliber, one needed a contract. Of course, the intricacies of contracts were little known among common folk—there were thousands of types, each with subtle differences and varying effects.

But this was all a distant matter. For now, these men could not break even a soul oath. They could only wait for their Second Master’s decision; their lives hung on his choice.

Under the gaze of Lin Fan’s silver eyes, beads of sweat streamed down Zhang Yi’s face.

To be honest, he had no desire to submit to anyone. His ambitions were vast: revenge, control of the Zhang Clan, the destruction of the Mo Clan, and ultimately, dominion over Panlong City and all of Qingxue County.

But now, with Lin Fan having slaughtered his Pulse-Connecting Realm uncle in an instant, killing him would be as easy as pinching an ant. He had no power to resist.

"I... submit!" After a long, agonizing silence, Zhang Yi finally exhaled, slowly kneeling and forcing out the words. No matter how deep his desire for revenge, it would be meaningless if he perished here.

In the end, men are always defeated by reality.

"We submit as well!" Seeing Zhang Yi kneel, the remaining nine exchanged glances, then dropped to their knees together.

"Do not resist!" Lin Fan’s voice sounded. In the next instant, his silver eyes shot out a beam of light, which divided into ten streams and plunged into the foreheads of Zhang Yi and his nine men.

At that moment, each of them felt the thread of light enter their mind, rushing for their spiritual platform—the very core of their soul, their most vital point. They could feel their souls shudder, as if invaded by a foreign substance, an overwhelming sense of danger compelling them to instinctively expel the silver thread.

But just as they were about to act, they remembered Lin Fan’s warning not to resist, and forcibly suppressed the urge.

The silver light settled into their spiritual platforms, taking root like a seedling at the very depth of their souls. Their thoughts seemed as though they could be perceived by this seedling.

Strangely, a sense of awe and reverence for Lin Fan began to rise within their hearts.

This feeling came swiftly, unlike the fear and hatred they had felt before. There was now, within their awe, a touch of respect and admiration. It was extraordinary—just moments ago, they had been enemies. Even if Lin Fan had forced their surrender through overwhelming might, they should only feel hatred and helplessness, not reverence and admiration.

They could not explain it; the hatred faded, replaced by a sense that all this was perfectly natural.

"This is a master-servant soul seal. From this moment forward, as your cultivation and souls grow, the seed of the soul seal will grow with you. If you die, I remain unharmed; if I die, you all die," Lin Fan explained, studying their bewildered faces. "No matter how strong you become, even if you surpass me many times over, this soul seal cannot be broken."

In truth, the soul seal would gradually reshape their thoughts, making Lin Fan the center of their loyalty. If he wished, he could even sense their general thoughts. This soul seal was but a common application of soul arts in his previous life.

"We dare not disobey!" Zhang Yi and the others answered in unison. Now that the seal had taken root in their minds, they did not dare show the slightest disrespect. The natural reverence brought by the soul seal only deepened their obedience.

"Very well," Lin Fan nodded, then pointed to one of them. "You—go cut off Old Seven Zhang’s head and deliver it to the Young Master of the Mo Clan in Qingxue County. Tell him the task I promised is complete."

"Yes, at your command!" The man Lin Fan indicated replied in a deep voice, stood, strode over to Old Seven Zhang’s corpse, drew his blade, and severed the head in one stroke.

"The rest of you will escort me back to Qingxue County, to Room 702 of the Four Seas Inn. Guard the door. No visitors allowed. If you encounter Xiao Shuihan or his companions, tell them to wait for several hours."

Zhang Yi and his men all nodded in acknowledgment.

In that moment, as he saw their response, the silver in Lin Fan’s eyes faded, his complexion blanched white, and a great mouthful of blood gushed forth as he lost consciousness and collapsed backward.

The truth was, unleashing his soul-killing technique to slay Old Seven Zhang had already pushed his body to its limits. It was a miracle he had lasted this long.

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