Banner of Ten Thousand Souls

Ice Profound Palace

The northern wind howled, swirling snowflakes like dancing jade petals.

Ye Chuan had traversed space from the Western Luo Kingdom to arrive here. The biting cold, carrying shards of ice, lashed against his Pikachu-patterned sleepwear, yet the chaotic energy swirling around him devoured the chill entirely.

Hovering mid-air outside the gates of Ice Profound Palace, Ye Chuan took in the sight of the sect.

Below, the mountain peaks stretched like ink strokes across a canvas, their surfaces sheathed in eternal ice that gleamed like colored glaze. The palace halls clung to the slopes, their upturned eaves adorned with icicles three feet long, their roofs buried under thick snow. From a distance, the structures seemed fused with the icy peaks themselves.

An ice-and-snow palace. Interesting.

Ye Chuan noticed spiritual energy seeping from the gaps between the buildings—emanations of cultivators practicing ice-attribute techniques. Clearly, this frigid land was their ideal training ground.

The higher the compatibility between a cultivator’s techniques and their environment, the faster their progress.

It’s not like tossing a fire-attribute cultivator into water would suddenly make them stronger, right?

Lowering his gaze, Ye Chuan swept it across the scattered halls below. Without moving an inch, he infused his voice with chaotic energy, letting it explode like thunder over the Ice Profound Palace. Every word rang clear in the ears of every disciple and elder.

"Your sect master, Bing Aotian, is dead. I’ve come today to claim all of your sect’s resources."

"Leave now, and I’ll spare your life."

As his words faded, even the falling snow seemed to freeze mid-air.

The Ice Profound Palace was no longer the thriving force it once was—half its disciples had already been slaughtered by Ye Chuan in the snowy mountains and the royal city. Those who remained were the ones trembling in fear.

Yet, even so, dozens of figures shot into the sky at his audacious declaration, their magical artifacts gleaming. Leading them was an elder in a cyan robe, his hair and beard white as snow, his body wreathed in icy mist—clearly a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator.

He was also the sect’s Grand Elder.

"You dare?!" the cyan-robed elder roared, icy-blue spiritual energy coalescing into a frozen spike in his palm. "Who are you, you insolent wretch? How dare you slander our sect master! Do you think just because he’s away, our sect is defenseless?"

The other elders summoned their own treasures—some held jade plates pulsing with glacial light, others gripped frost-coated swords. Their spiritual energy intertwined into an invisible net, encircling Ye Chuan.

Yet, despite their efforts, their ice-attribute attacks dissolved harmlessly against him, devoured without a trace.

One of the elders scrutinized Ye Chuan and sneered. "A thieving rat, that’s all you are! Did you really think a lie would scare the Ice Profound Palace?"

"Even if the sect master isn’t here, we won’t tolerate your insolence!" another elder spat. "Fool! Today, we’ll grind your bones to dust and scatter your ashes!"

Ye Chuan listened to their jeers, idly crushing a snowflake between his fingers. His tone remained indifferent. "Bing Aotian died by my hand. If you don’t believe me—"

Before he could finish, the cyan-robed elder erupted in fury. "Nonsense! The sect master’s power is unfathomable—how could he fall to a brat like you? Attack! Kill him!"

No sooner had he spoken than dozens of techniques surged toward Ye Chuan—ice spikes shrieking through the air, jade plates unleashing beams of freezing light, swords slashing out blizzards of blades. Each strike carried the full might of a Nascent Soul cultivator, enough to flatten a mountain range.

"Told them the truth, but they won’t listen. Sigh… being honest is hard."

Ye Chuan sighed, but as the attacks closed in, a flicker of disdain crossed his eyes.

His left hand remained behind his back. With his right, he casually raised a pitch-black soul banner into existence. Blood-red runes adorned its surface, and even without activation, it exuded a sinister ghostly aura.

"Insignificant Nascent Soul ants, daring to show off before me?"

"Time for re-education!"

His fingers flicked, chaotic energy swirling forth. The seemingly gentle force acted like a black hole, swallowing every ice-attribute attack without leaving a trace of residual energy.

Then, Ye Chuan channeled his full spiritual power into the banner. The fabric rippled without wind, the crimson runes glowing an eerie red amidst the snowstorm.

"Since you refuse to leave, you’ll stay in the Ice Profound Palace forever."

As he spoke, a violet light burst from the banner’s tip, and a spectral figure slowly materialized within it—

Clad in the sect master’s robes, the figure’s face was unmistakably Bing Aotian’s. But his eyes were hollow, his body bound in chains—a soul stripped of autonomy!

"S-Sect Master?!" The cyan-robed elder’s pupils shrank, his voice trembling. "Y-You… you turned him into a soul puppet?!"

The other elders and disciples were paralyzed with terror, their earlier bravado gone. Without hesitation, they turned and fled toward the sect gates in a frenzy, abandoning their artifacts mid-air.

"Too late to run now."

Ye Chuan flicked his wrist. The soul banner unleashed a black domain, instantly engulfing the entire Ice Profound Palace.

Having absorbed countless souls, the banner had evolved into a Ten Thousand Souls Banner. Within its domain, the spirits of the dead were inexorably drawn in, amplifying Ye Chuan’s power.

Dark chains materialized like vipers, coiling around the fleeing cultivators. Piercing screams echoed as the chains skewered flesh, the dull thuds of impact reverberating through the storm.

In moments, every escaping cultivator was ensnared, their souls siphoned into the banner like prizes in a claw machine.

[Nascent Soul soul absorbed. Artifact boosts host’s attributes by +20%]

[Nascent Soul soul absorbed. Artifact boosts host’s attributes by +19%]

[Nascent Soul soul absorbed. Artifact boosts host’s attributes by +18%]

[Nascent Soul soul absorbed. Artifact boosts host’s attributes by +12%]

[Golden Core soul absorbed. Artifact boosts host’s attributes by +1%]

...

The banner pulsed with an ominous glow. In mere breaths, Ye Chuan had refined every living being in the sect, his aura now dense and terrifying.

With his task complete, he stowed the banner away.

Shaking his head, he mused.

The world was always about the strong devouring the weak.

Ye Chuan still remembered his past lives in text-based adventures—how he’d been crushed like an ant underfoot without a second thought.

Expanding his divine sense, he scanned the sect until he located what resembled a treasury.

In a flash, he appeared inside the vault.

Guarded only by a few Transformation Spirit cultivators, the treasures within were disappointingly sparse—far poorer than he’d expected.

"No, this is just pathetic," Ye Chuan muttered, noting the scarcity of even spirit stones.

"Strange..."

Picking up an inventory ledger, he discovered the reason—the Ice Profound Palace had funneled nearly all its resources to the Holy Land, all to groom their prodigy, Bing San, into a worthy successor.