Ben Coates stood at the center of the mirror, looking around. He saw cross-sections everywhere—the fragments of other mirrors were like shattered, transparent continents, separated by insurmountable distances.
This mirror was a rare artifact Ben Coates had obtained from the Great Ruins. The world inside the mirror could overlap with reality, and nobody would ever notice. Its only flaw was that no divine abilities or spells could be used within.
In the past, Ben had always used this artifact as a tool for escaping danger, yet he never imagined the day would come when he himself would be trapped inside the mirror.
Now, escape was impossible. Quinn Shepherd had severed the rope—his only way out was to jump from the mirror. But if he did, Quinn would surely skewer him with a sword the moment he emerged.
“Quinn Cult Master, you’re not trying to kill me—you just want to catch me and have a talk?”
Ben Coates abandoned his plan to escape and tested the waters: “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Quinn looked at Ben in the mirror, half exasperated, half amused. “When did I ever get the chance? The moment you saw me, you tried to show off and kill me, so I had to fight back. Actually, when we first met, didn’t I say, ‘Isn’t it a joy to have friends visit from afar?’ You should have known I came to catch up, not to kill. Why make things so hard for yourself?”
Ben nearly spat blood. This guy clearly said, ‘Friends from afar, come out and die!’—when did he ever say ‘Isn’t it a joy?’
Still, this wasn’t the time to argue. His life was now in Quinn’s hands—better to go along with whatever Quinn wanted.
“Quinn Cult Master, you’re as open-minded and generous as the rumors say. I’ve always admired you. I was just joking around, wanted to see your legendary strength for myself. Now I’ve seen it, and I’m truly convinced.”
Inside the mirror, Ben wiped the blood from his mouth, sat down cross-legged, and smiled. “Cult Master, you’ve come all this way—what is it you want to discuss?”
“Let’s talk about the god-demon behind you.”
Quinn lifted the mirror, beaming. “The Imperial Preceptor and I would love to meet him, pay our respects to this sacred elder. Would the Grand Venerable give us the chance?”
Ben’s face suddenly changed.
The god-demon behind him was the very one who appeared at the altar whenever he performed the Soul-Bowing Witch Rite!
Quinn’s question about the god-demon’s whereabouts was clearly not about paying respects—it was about rallying power to eliminate that god-demon!
“Cult Master Quinn, Human Emperor Quinn, how could I possibly know such an existence?”
Ben hurriedly smiled, “You know my abilities. Someone as insignificant as me—Cult Master could take two of me with one hand—how could I recognize a god-demon? As for the god-demon’s whereabouts, that’s even farther beyond my reach! Please, Cult Master, be reasonable!”
Quinn held a mirror shard in one hand and idly poked the sand with his sword in the other. “Grand Venerable, you say you don’t know the god-demon, but you’re lying. If you didn’t know him, could you have called down help from High Heaven to deal with me? Could you have summoned Victor Bloom? If you didn’t know the god-demon, could you recognize True Heaven Matron? We’re not children here—let’s be honest. You might not have the qualifications to know the god-demon directly, but the one behind you does, and you’re very close to him. Whenever you perform the Soul-Bowing Witch Rite, that god-demon’s shadow appears behind you. He must be your master, or your grand-master, am I right?”
Ben watched Quinn’s sword stirring the sand, his expression shifting uncertainly. Suddenly, he stood up and began pacing inside the mirror, unable to decide.
The world believed he was the founder of Loulan Golden Palace, but few knew there was someone else behind it.
That god-demon was deeply entwined with him—in fact, it was the god-demon who founded Loulan Golden Palace. By a twist of fate, the palace ended up in his hands.
There were many disgraceful incidents along the way.
"He is my master."
Ben Coates stopped pacing, looked up at Quinn outside the mirror, and said, "You guessed right. My ability to contact High Heaven, to recognize True Heaven Matron—all of it is thanks to him. But I advise you not to provoke him. He is far too evil!"
His eyes twitched violently and he lowered his voice: "Cult Master Quinn, you should know—I’m considered evil enough, but compared to him, I’m nothing. I’m his disciple, but every time I use the Soul-Bowing Witch Rite to borrow his power, I lose a chunk of my lifespan! He treats even his own disciples this way, let alone outsiders. That’s why I rarely use this witchcraft."
Quinn couldn’t help but be moved—Ben Coates, of all people, calling someone else evil? It sounded absurd, almost impossible to believe!
If you ranked evil in this world, who could surpass Ben Coates, who poisoned an entire prairie and killed countless herders?
"I don’t even know his real name—only his title."
Ben Coates said, "Others call him the Ghost-Ear Witch God. I think his surname might be Ghost-Ear, but in our lineage, people rarely reveal their true names. Even his surname could be a lie."
"Ghost-Ear Witch God?"
Quinn was taken aback. Ghost-Ear could be a surname, but breaking down the character, it meant 'ear-ghost'—maybe it wasn’t a surname at all, but a race?
If that was true, then the Ghost-Ear Witch God must be of the ghost race.
"But if you want to find him, I’m afraid that’s nearly impossible."
Ben Coates said, "He came from another world. Back in my first life, he had already left this one."
Quinn carefully studied Ben’s face in the mirror. Ben looked utterly sincere, not faking anything. He said, "Cult Master Quinn, there’s no need to doubt me. I have no reason to hide anything from you. My life and death are in your hands now—even if I lied, it wouldn’t help me."
Quinn thought for a moment, then smiled. "Grand Venerable, you’re trying to trick me again."
Ben Coates sighed, "How am I tricking you?"
"If he really left, how could you still use the Soul-Bowing Witch Rite? Isn’t the shadow behind you his Primordial Spirit’s projection?"
Quinn smiled. "Do you think he’s powerful enough to project his Primordial Spirit here from another world? If he could, the gods of the upper realm wouldn’t need to go through all the trouble of sending their stone bodies and having High Heaven’s gods activate world-ending artifacts."
Ben Coates’s expression changed instantly.
Quinn looked at the youth in the mirror, who was even younger than himself, and said calmly, "Besides, he can sense your summons at any time, project himself here, and help you ‘pray’ others to death. I don’t think a god-demon would be so idle, nor do I believe the Soul-Bowing Witch Rite works that way. What if one day he simply doesn’t answer your call? Wouldn’t you be doomed? Grand Venerable, we’re both smart men—just give me the truth and I’ll let you live."
Ben’s face flickered, then he suddenly burst out laughing and clapped his hands in admiration. "No wonder you’re Cult Master Quinn—the man I’ve always seen as my greatest rival. It’s not easy to fool you! You’re right, he never left. He did plan to depart this world, but I ambushed him, severely wounded and sealed him, then stripped away his Primordial Spirit!"
Quinn’s eyes widened in shock.
Ben Coates was proud and smug. "Like master, like disciple. Everything he taught me, I mastered—and even surpassed! But that old bastard never taught me the way to become a true god. I was already old, about to die, and he didn’t care about our master-disciple bond. Hmph, if he wanted me dead, I’d make sure he died first! When the upper realm sent down the reception beam to take him away, I struck as soon as he stepped into the light."
A chill ran through Quinn’s heart.
Ben Coates grinned. "I used the witchcraft he taught me to disrupt the reception beam and split it in two! Cult Master Quinn, you’re also skilled in teleportation arts—if your teleportation spell was split in two mid-cast, what do you think would happen?"
Quinn’s heart gave a sudden jolt. "I’d be split in two as well."
"Reception beams and teleportation spells aren’t exactly the same, but it’s close enough—the result is your flesh and Primordial Spirit get separated."
Ben Coates was full of self-satisfaction. "I used witchcraft to sacrifice my own disciple’s blood, split the reception beam, and in that instant, my master—the Ghost-Ear Witch God—was torn from his flesh and Primordial Spirit. Two birds with one stone! My disciple had always wanted me dead to take my place, so with one move, I got rid of them both. The Ghost-Ear Witch God was left with only his Primordial Spirit, no body. The moment he lost his body, I implanted a soul-bug and took control of his Primordial Spirit!"
Quinn felt his skin crawl. "Grand Venerable, you say the Ghost-Ear Witch God is evil, but honestly, I think you might be just as bad."
Ben Coates shook his head. "You’re flattering me—I’m nowhere near his level. He’s the truly evil one. Even after I trapped him, his body didn’t die, and his Primordial Spirit is still intact. He’s nearly broken through my seals several times. I used his Primordial Spirit to create the Soul-Bowing Witch Rite. You’d never guess, Cult Master—I was an unrivaled genius in my first life, one of the strongest of my era, almost god-level. Maybe I’ve lost my edge after so many reincarnations, but back then, I was every bit your equal."
Quinn nodded. "That’s true—your skills are extraordinary. You might have learned techniques from other sects, but your witchcraft is your real strength. That’s all from your first life. The arts you picked up in later lives are just icing on the cake; they haven’t really boosted your power. If you’d focused on perfecting your witchcraft, you’d be far beyond where you are now."
Ben Coates’s expression turned bleak. "What’s the point of perfecting witchcraft if I still can’t become a god? Once I realized that, I started searching other sects for the path to godhood. But none of them had the answer, and I couldn’t integrate everything I learned over all these lives. In the end, it was you—my sworn enemy—who published the method for becoming a god, giving me hope. I can’t help but sigh. I don’t even know what to say."
He stared off into space, then suddenly said, "If I’d met you in my first life, maybe we wouldn’t be enemies now. Maybe we’d be friends."
Quinn gave an awkward smile. "Don’t joke, Grand Venerable—I’m not evil at all. Where did you hide the Ghost-Ear Witch God’s body? And where did you suppress his Primordial Spirit?"
Ben Coates turned serious. "If I tell you, will you let me go? Not kill me?"
Quinn grew serious too. "I can swear an oath to Tu Bo!"
Ben Coates shook his head. "Cult Master, don’t joke around."