Nine Venoms Sect Founder - Chapter 106: The Beast that Killed You

The Weeping Soul Mantra, a 12th star cultivation method he had zero foundation in, was comprehended by Harun in a single day. Across the remaining nine days, he merely perfected his enlightenment—increasing his essence and insight levels as well. A part of Jiyan wanted to just feel delighted by her beloved’s absurd comprehension speed. But the rational side disagreed, and as she recalled the latent threats rooted in Harun’s karmic past and eyes, her rational side won the inner debate. In that instant, Jiyan feared that down the road, she might have to protect Harun from himself.

Harun’s thoughts never reached that point. As far as he was concerned, his preternatural understanding of organic and nefarious arts was the only true gift nature granted him, and the foundation of all his achievements. How could he take it as a threat? If there were flaws in Harun’s state of mind, this would be the first.

“Considerable dangers south, unknown perils north. I must say that I love miscalculations like these. Makes the game all the more interesting. Don’t you agree, Jiyan?”

“I prefer a game of cards.”

“Strip poker?”

“Too soon. Maybe afterward—depending on your performance.”

But as the two bantered, the Obsidian Soul Stone Mine’s formation triggered seismic changes in the Forgotten Soul Graveyard. Changes that again altered Harun’s plans. All traces of jest vanished from the pair’s faces, and closing their eyes, they pulled their Yin Souls back into their bodies. With body and soul in symbiosis, Harun’s Evil Soul Tree fully materialized. But ignoring that perk, he sent Mehran several messages, then cast Jiyan a helpless glance.

“I guess playing it safe won’t work out,” Harun said.

“Which means we have to make a choice. Who do we endanger?” Jiyan saw through the real dilemma. With their faction’s current resources and strength, there was only so much they could protect. Between the Birusk clan, the Vermilion Brides, and the Dark Stone City, one could potentially become defenseless. Each was of capital importance. The clan was the future. The Vermilion Brides, and more precisely Gulseni, represented an information network stretching to the Third Range. Last but not the least, the Dark Stone City provided vast and easy to earn faith resources.

But once they stepped into the mine, they couldn’t defend all three. In that instant, Harun was reminded of the importance of sect pillars. Mighty subordinates could relieve so many burdens. Unfortunately, even the Myriad Devil Palace wasn’t built in one day.

Closing his eyes, Harun pushed his brain to the extreme, considered all variables, and realized that be it for the current or future woes, he had to gamble himself. Chiming in, Jiyan poured options into his mind, and the two came to an agreement.

Harun stretched out his hands. The golden incense representing his accumulated faith powers gushed forth, and from the Salvation Hall, a golden beam shot toward the sky. The blood-red clouds scattered, replaced by infinite holy rays that captured the attention of the Dark Stone City’s millions.

From this magnificent phenomenon, a splendid statue of Harun dressed in monastic robes dropped. 108 meters tall, the radiant statue sat in the lotus position, and from its eyes, golden rain dropped on the citizens, reviving their lost hopes in a paradisiacal future. The statue extended its welcoming hands to the city, and in that instant, from children to adults, from complete mortals to Daoist Realm experts, all realized their duty.

Faith, this simple word they defiled across years of anarchy called them back en masse. They needed faith. They had to pray and believe that the Lord would save them from hell’s cradle. The light of Revelation swindled millions of anarchists, making humble devouts out of hell’s fervent preachers.

This free and unadulterated faith became millions of Karmic Threads that poured into the statue—into Harun! The Spiritual Incense he spent for this feat was replenished instantly—then multiplied to reach inconceivable levels. Millions of images and faces, expectations, desires, regrets, lives flooded Harun like gargantuan tsunamis, and though the attachment-stage of the Human Realm carried no risk, his mind still went into shock. When the nine millionth devotee reached him, Harun hit his limits and reeled back.

Power. More Miraculous Powers than Harun ever planned to get his hands on, now stood at his fingertips. Delusions of grandeur, identity confusion, temptation and so many other mental plights threatened his easygoing nature. But Sovereign Essence gushed forth, assisting Harun’s reinforced soul to smack these challenges out of the way!

Swallowing a mouthful of blood, Harun channeled his Miraculous Powers to cast a grand barrier around the Dark Stone City. At the north, south, east and west, four new statues took shape, defending all corners. The original idol remained at the center, sucking the supply of faith powers to feed the idols. Later on, Mehran would name this move…the Dharma Sheltering Array.

Exhaling blood-stained air, Harun straightened his back, connected to his totem, and sent it to assist Gulseni. Its task was simple: save, deter, leave. Those Gods came for opportunities, not pointless bloodshed. By relying on the Hundred Insect Altar and its abilities, Harun’s Serpent Totem could give them the scare they needed. Although that’d temporarily leave the clan without strong defenses, it was the best he could do now. Showy barriers would only have the opposite effect.

“Take it easy. Restore your strength. Until you’re back to perfect condition, I will destroy whatever stands in the way,” Jiyan pledged. Harun didn’t doubt it, and the two then vanished from the royal palace, crossing the blood-red sky to descend on the Forgotten Soul Graveyard.

Following the mine and Abyssal River’s awakening, all souls, essence and formless energies across 300 square kilometers were sucked in clean. Devoured by nothingness, the dead no longer raged against their brutal fates—a form of peace, perhaps.

…

Meanwhile, Gulseni faced the most alarming scene of her life. Thirteen God-level experts, eight-hundred Celestial Knights, all hovered in the bloody sky with their Divine Senses locked on her. With her background, Gulseni had seen plenty of deities. But never did she endure the full pressure of their auras. Anyone of them could destroy her Yang Sealing Chains with a finger snap—the gap was just that deep. And without that advantage, just relying on her second-level Celestial Knight strength, she was powerless.

“Girl, considering your father’s face, I initially wanted to give you a way out. But I’m afraid it’s now too late to back down. Mortals shouldn’t challenge Celestials. Celestials shouldn’t challenge Gods. Did you think the Saint-Empress’ name allowed you to run amok?” The Flame Spirit King sneered.

Each of these Gods were enemies. But before their inferiors’ “disrespect,” they became one united front.

“Enough nonsense.” A deity dressed in black heavy armor cut. In this race for the abysses’ secrets. The Soul Refining Hall had a clear advantage. They couldn’t waste time here. Raising his armored hand, the deity let his Heavenly Qi erupt, condensing berserk and invisible energy waves that threatened to wipe out all brides in one move.

But as they saw their lives flashing before their eyes, boundless suction force dropped from the sky, draining the Qi to dispel the offensive. Recognizing this move, the Gods felt their hearts skip a beat. The brides went from despair to relief, and Gulseni’s eyes met the shadow of a colossal serpent that zigzagged through the clouds to drop before the Vermilion Brides.

“Master ordered me to assist you. Stand back and behave. When I’m done, we leave,” A grave, mechanical voice spread from the serpent’s lips, frightening Gulseni, who retreated instantly.

“You…can speak?” She stressed every word. In the Birusk clan, it was common knowledge that Lord Birusk’s Serpent Totem was just one infinitely mighty beast—devoid of speech or thoughts. Neither Mukri nor Gulseni thought otherwise. After all, who could spend 15 years without speaking a word?

Ignoring her surprise and words, the Serpent Totem shifted his attention to the God-assembly. Faced with a World-Devouring Serpent whose bloodline level and strength they couldn’t estimate, the Gods instinctively recoiled.

“Who…are you?” One of the deities’ asked. Cultivators of the Heavenly Dream Land only recognized one lineage as supreme: the Serpent Emperor’s. Yet, even Silav, his grandson, couldn’t compare to this serpent’s bloodline level.

“Who? An errand boy, a placeholder body, my lord’s emblem and—” A jade-green pyramid of over 1,000, joint insect-shaped figurines landed before the Serpent Totem, “The beast that killed you.”

Dark-green rays shot out of the 1,000 figurines, becoming a myriad of toxic beasts that assembled in a flawless formation.