Our Family Has Fallen

Neither Dismas nor Reynard mentioned any details about what was inside.

Lance didn’t say anything, just looked back at the portal. The originally upheld circular structure with a mirror-like void scene became dim, then disappeared, and everything about the ancestor was submerged in the void.

Some secrets are best left to disappear forever...

"That’s just a New God created by the Ascension Sect, not even deserving the title of a god, just a freak toying with flesh and blood. The true Primordial God is still asleep."

Lance did not pop champagne for the ancestor’s death; in fact, he was aware that the ancestor was just a failure, whether he vanished or not didn’t matter.

But the suffering he brought to Hamlet didn’t vanish with him, most notably the leaders of the Ascension Sect are still at large. The troublesome remnants left by the ancestor need to be dealt with, and most of Hamlet’s territory remains occupied... not to mention the unknown state of the outside world, possibly living in Extreme Darkness.

Yet, Lance suddenly smiled and shouted.

"But this time the operation was a complete success, we successfully destroyed the enemy and eliminated the dark roots of Hamlet!"

A victory is a victory, and Lance didn’t want to belittle the hard-won triumph; on the contrary, he needed to motivate them, for they deserved it.

A few words lifted everyone’s spirits, and they temporarily put aside the situation here and walked out of the Stomach of the Behemoth.

However, upon stepping outside, they discovered a new situation. The flesh and blood of the behemoth seemed to have lost vitality, no longer twitching or contracting, resembling a heap of rotting meat.

There was no reaction when touched or harmed, no regenerative ability; previously, any cut would recover to some extent, but now there was no response at all.

The environment, once full of vitality, gradually turned murky, and it wouldn’t be long before decay filled everything here, and the stench would engulf the dungeon.

"This is the scent of decay transforming from life to death, we must find a way to deal with this situation quickly, or it might spawn a plague and spread, contaminating the entire dungeon, even the outside world."

Noticing this, Lance signaled to Alhazred, "Scholar, take them to the first floor quickly to verify the state of the Blood Altar, I will stay to handle these dead flesh."

With that, Lance began searching the space left by Alviss, and indeed, he could find the legacy he left behind.

These spellcasters like to write diaries, notes, and research records; because the vast information needs careful exploration, it’s also why few powerful spellcasters leave supernatural organizations; this is not information an individual can handle.

But now these things were cheap for Lance. Ignoring other parts, Lance found the method for refining Spiritual Crystals that the mage had mentioned.

The Demigod brought a mind far superior to humans, and just by skimming, he gleaned the essence. The core part involved borrowing the power of rituals and equipment.

Generally, refinement requires the spellcaster to face the pollution risk from the crystal impurities, naturally, no one wants to do it.

Alviss had a piece of legendary equipment called the [Purification Crystal], used as the ritual’s core, its power enabled easier refinement without personal involvement from the spellcaster.

This reminded Lance of something; he remembered when he mysteriously obtained an equipment from the void when sailing back from Totnes.

Among them was an Otherworldly Demon Contract and also an untainted Soul Crystal.

The Soul Crystal was undoubtedly the best ritual core, unexpectedly all predestined by fate.

However, Lance didn’t do this, so for Alviss, the core was still the equipment, but for Lance, that was not a matter of concern; he needed the ritual more.

Alhazred at least had to return to build an altar as the ritual carrier, while Lance set the ritual on his arm, with the flesh and strange patterns and symbols starting to surface.

Using his own flesh, bones as the ritual’s base, and himself as the core!

If the ancestor were still alive, he’d surely say Lance was crazier than him, "Are you the Flesh Evil God?"

From the mage’s stock, he retrieved a grain-sized, crystal-like high-purity Spiritual Crystal, which was specially refined by the mage as the ritual’s most important material.

That’s why he dared to use any rituals left by other spellcasters casually, and it was already in motion at the wave of his hand.

I, too, am a Flesh God, though just a demigod.

The eerie power began spreading, and the original life force in the air began gathering in his hand, while the loose flesh, upon touch, turned into dust and fell.

All the power was slowly plundered and adhered to the Crystal Seed, starting to grow.

However, the enlarged crystal was no longer pure, but tinged with a bit of pink.

As for the shape, it was mostly randomly generated. Lance had no time to focus on shaping it.

Lance walked deep into the dungeon, wherever he went, the flesh with lost life signs turned to dust, and the contained power condensed in his hand.

It could almost be a pound in size; he’d snap off a piece as a Crystal Seed to refine the next one, though its purity was becoming ridiculous, with the color getting deeper, from light pink, to flesh-colored, then to pink, blood-red...

Now Lance’s in hand was already black-purple, indeed there were problems after Lance arbitrarily altered the ritual.

Of course, it was also because Lance didn’t care about any purity issues at all, he sensed more signs of flesh decay.

The so-called behemoth was merely something forcibly twisted out by the ancestor, lacking consciousness, just a mass of rotten meat.

Who cares about the purity? He even deliberately released the purity part, because he needed a more exaggerated conversion efficiency.

Now he only had one task, which was to "devour" it as quickly as possible before it rotted!

Lance chose to use his arm as the ritual’s carrier, now evident because how could ordinary materials withstand a Demigod Physique’s endurance? How could they endure such outrageous conversion intensity? How could they possibly seize power through the Power of Flesh and Blood?

After several harvests, the third layer was already in tatters, those tower-like tentacles collapsed, those tree-like intestines were severed... all that’s left now was a layer of thick dust.

Walking up from the third to the second layer, the stench of decay became stronger, even suffocating, forcing him to quickly turn the flesh into dust and purple-black crystals.

The first layer was slightly better, but not by much. There wasn’t a blanket of flesh, but the blood once flowed here.

And now, the blood no longer flowed, like a river waiting to dry up.

The fountains once spewing blood steadily also stopped, revealing a mysterious oppression.

Only now did Lance see those bags piled into a small mountain of blood crystals, though some had already been transported out, only two trusted aides remained here managing.

The purpose of the dock outside was to load these, but with Lance taking down Alviss and reaping a small world, it was no longer critical.

He raised his hand to collect those items, revealing Alhazred and others seemed to be troubled by the stopped Blood Altar.

"Forget about it, get out quickly!, this rotten scent will cause bodily decay!"

Lance’s Demigod Physique was completely resistant to this; for them, though, even a Legendary couldn’t transcend human essence.

The urgency made everyone follow the Lord’s words and evacuate.

As for Lance, he needed to complete the final cleanup.

He uprooted the Blood Altar and threw it back into the chamber, then raised the Holy Grail in one hand, the other hand plunging into the dried blood pool.

Instant purification!