Chapter 138
This was possible the whole time?
Now I understand.
No wonder he’s been so calm since he set foot down here.
I assumed he had no idea about the forbidden formation or a million years of destiny, I thought that was why he showed no anger when the skeleton vanished.
He knew everything, and he had a way to resurrect the man he’d killed and make him fetch what he’d hidden.
Cecilia found she had nothing to say.
The man was infuriating, just because he holds every advantage, he gets to do whatever he wants?
The skeleton and the destiny sealed inside it were both matters of enormous consequence.
Any normal person would have dropped everything to secure them first.
He had stretched it out over two full days, and spent those two days on her, rotten all the way through.
Huh.
Hehehe.
She thought about it a moment longer and started giggling privately, a plan had arrived, and it was going to work.
Next time, she’d cover herself in honey.
No, wait, she’d cover herself in lethal poison, that would do it.
Ordinary poison was useless against an Ancestor Realm powerhouse, fortunately she happened to be carrying a specialized forbidden pill.
She’d crush it, grind it to powder, and work it into the honey.
Cecilia nodded to herself.
With a viable route to completing the mission, her mood improved enormously.
She stopped caring whether Soren walked out with the skeleton and the hoard.
However much she coveted them, taking anything out of that man’s hands wasn’t physically possible.
Better to spend the energy perfecting the assassination.
While Cecilia was snickering to herself, Soren walked over to the Ancestor skeleton, he patted the huge plain bone and felt warmth and jade smoothness come up through his palm.
A flick of his finger, and the puppeted Falling Cherry Spirit Emperor blew apart.
The demonic energy that had made his vessel came home and reabsorbed into Soren’s body.
That single drop of blood essence stayed in the air, turning slowly into a vortex that pulled in the pools of blood spread across the floor.
Before long, a glowing sphere of pure blood essence hung in front of him.
Mira was dead, and it barely mattered.
The Spirit Emperor’s blood was purer anyway.
As Patriarch of the Eight-Headed White-Scaled Serpent Tribe, he wasn’t only an Upper-Tier Spirit Emperor, his Spirit bloodline ran at Supreme tier.
That concentration would speed regrowth of flesh and muscle across the skeleton considerably.
Soren intended to draw the Nine-Headed Serpent’s own residual blood essence out of the bones, part would serve as the medium for summoning the soul, the rest would go in with the Spirit Emperor’s blood to feed the frame.
The higher the concentration, the faster the reconstruction.
Once the body was whole, he could fuse the summoned soul back into it cleanly.
Building a temporary vessel out of pure demonic energy was possible, it also required a staggering volume to sustain, every action burned it, and it couldn’t run indefinitely, worse, it would cap the serpent’s ceiling and throw away every biological advantage an ancient beast’s blood and bone carried.
He decided to pull the destiny out first.
No need to take all of it, leaving half inside would do the serpent enormous good over the long run, offsetting whatever bottlenecks a thinned bloodline would inflict.
Soren spent half a day extracting exactly fifty percent, then he looked at the glowing rhomboid crystal in his palm and thought about it.
This is a lot of destiny.
Half the hoard, rough arithmetic puts it at over five hundred thousand years siphoned off the continent, and it’s underwhelming.
Inside the Kun-Heaven Nether Sea there were Destiny Nether Pearls, one pearl held roughly a hundred thousand years’ worth, and I swallowed five in one sitting.
Five hundred thousand years, right there.
And that pristine destiny was only enough to carry me from Lower-Tier to Middle-Tier Demon Ancestor.
Having tasted what the Nether Sea offered, he found nothing shocking about a million years of stolen destiny.
If anything, he looked down on it.
What the Nether Pearls held was purer, more overbearing, and far easier to take in.
The Kun-Heaven Nether Sea earns the name Sea of Origin, and if every Immemorial race has an ancestral sanctuary like it.
Then those Seas of Origin hold their own Nether Pearls, pure destiny, primal energy, untouched bloodline source.
The Kunpeng losing the coordinates to theirs doesn’t mean anyone else lost theirs.
Damn, if I’m right.
How much destiny is sitting on the other four continents? How strong are the races running them?
Next to those four, this walled-off Exalted Continent is a speck of dust in the corner of a room.
Soren shook his head, half-smiling, and put the speculation down.
A road gets walked one step at a time and a meal eaten one bite at a time, business first.
A pulse of aura opened his spatial storage, and the destiny crystal went in, he turned back to the skeleton and drew eight distinct drops of residual blood essence out of the marrow.
An ancient serpent’s soul was vast, so the summoning needed four full drops as its medium.
The process ran without a snag.
He activated the Hungry Ghost Path Demonic Form exactly as before, and a demonic pattern formation pushed out of his palms and rang in resonance with those four drops of ancient blood.
A crimson soul shadow several hundred meters long, matching the skeleton to the inch, materialized in the vault out of nothing.
A primordial hiss rolled through the chamber, spatial distortion came off it in waves, and soul pressure spread in every direction.
Cecilia’s mouth came open and stayed there.
Her body locked up.
She’d thought summoning a man two days dead was enough to break the rules she knew, it hadn’t occurred to her that he could call back an Immemorial Nine-Headed Serpent.
The thing had been dead over a million years.
And his method was its own kind of terror, he wasn’t gathering scattered soul fragments out of the ambient air, it looked far more like he was reaching into another plane of existence and hauling something back across.