Nine Venoms Sect Founder - Chapter 142: Last Sacrifice: Self-Immolation

Two people faced immediate danger: Birandar and Mukri. Without a second thought, Harun wrapped Birandar in a cloud of Sovereign Essence while Jiyan grabbed Mukri’s tail and hurled him through a Space Portal. Though Jiyan could create a nigh-endless succession of space portals, with her current abilities she could only keep two open at the same time. The second one formed three steps behind her, and as the startled Mukri emerged from it, Jiyan slashed at the blackened branches—slicing them into two.

Connecting to the Blood Matron puppet, Jiyan activated her new toy. Doing the same with his Desolate Corpses, Harun ordered an immediate retreat. But though the corpses didn’t waste a second to execute his orders, black rays shot out of the burned treant corpse, piercing through 17 of them—in an instantaneous show of eldritch powers, they withered to ashes.

Dolma Doll’s eyes shone in a bright red, marking her awakening. But while Jiyan had a decent grasp of her new tool, her lacking experience and Dolma’s broken soul reduced the Doll’s battle power. A tragic consequence, for as a tall column of black flames set Weeping Soul’s Corpse ablaze, becoming a pillar that shot through the broken ceiling, Harun knew that without the Abyssal River to back her up, even full-strength Dolma couldn’t necessarily triumph over this abomination. Awe-inspiring Sacrifice Essence overflowed from the black flame column, carrying the ghastly remains of 100,000 lives—100,000 yes, for one more soul joined the Reverend’s macabre feast, sacrificed to complete the Weeping Soul Mantra and unleash a chthonian beast of prey: Weeping Soul himself.

The treant corpse burned to ashes, the black flame pillar twisted and morphed to become a grisly, wailing angel’s face. That face opened its mouth, releasing a dull-black orb that hovered before Team Harun. At first, Harun was confused. Thanks to his middle-accomplishment in Life and Death, across the First Range, none could cheat his senses by playing dead before him. Following his undead’s chained Solar Desolation, Weeping Soul died. There was no doubt about that, so why was the Reverend still putting up this hateful struggle? Just like Weeping Soul profoundly loathed “Lord Revelation,” Harun had gotten fed up with the grotesque treant. But suppressing the distracting emotions, Harun analyzed the wailing angel, the orb, the soul remains and every bit of information at his disposal to form conjectures.

Even for Weeping Soul, the intensity of the malignant energies in the atmosphere, and the potency of the Sacrifice Essence, had reached an incomprehensible level. This wasn’t merely the work of cultivation and mantra no…a Forbidden Art was at play.

“Sangar’s Self-Immolation Hex?” Harun hypothesized, but instantly rejected the idea. Thanks to his Serpent Totem consuming Sangar’s Soul, Harun had learned the Self-Immolation Hex and what it could accomplish.

By setting himself ablaze and chanting the incantation, Sangar could exterminate all those that bore him ill-will and knew his birth name across 10 million square kilometers. However, ignoring the lifespan cost and other burdens, this only worked on enemies and didn’t allow Sangar to pick his targets. That Forbidden Art passed on to Sangar by Nakula was indeed dreadful, but didn’t apply to this situation. A pair of full-white eyes appeared on the black orb’s surface. Its shape changed, and from a miniature black sun, the orb turned into a three-legged crow. With feathers as black as an ebony stone, the three-legged crow spread its wings, and though it only stood at three meters—negligible before the majority of Monstrous Beasts, the intensity of that crow’s aura allowed no contempt.

The spark of life didn’t exist in that crow’s eyes, and like an infernal puppet driven by a singular purpose, it looked past Harun, fixing its eyes on Dolma Doll. That empty yet purposeful look was all it took for Harun to understand his new predicament. Weeping Soul did die. However, it wasn’t from the explosion. Perhaps, from the moment Dolma trapped him under her blood leviathan beast—no, even before—the Reverend was ready for a desperate move. And in the instant the Desolate Corpses appeared to end his struggle, knowing that he’d never get the opportunity to steal Dolma’s soul, he used a modified or superior version of the Self-Immolating Hex to make his soul the final sacrifice of his foul mantra. But while this process enabled him to reach the peak of his craft, Weeping Soul couldn’t avoid turning into a mindless undead. Thus, to make sure he’d fulfill his duty, the Reverend used all his mental faculties to engrave an order in the undead he’d leave behind: “steal Dolma’s body and bring it back to Nakula.”

Harun was almost correct. Just like Sangar, Weeping Soul learned the Self-Immolating Hex from his master and foster father. But whereas Sangar only received the main form, Weeping Soul learned the extra secret. By keeping his real name hidden from all those he held dear, the Reverend could immolate himself at any given time to create a stronger, undead puppet that’d carry out one final task for him. For that reason, Nakula never gave him a real name, letting Weeping Soul choose one for himself…and never reveal it. By combining his Forbidden Art and Mantra, Weeping Soul left Harun this final gift: putting him in quite the distasteful situation.

On the surface, Harun could just give the crow what it wanted: Dolma Doll. This raised two problems. On the one hand, Harun couldn’t guarantee that Weeping Soul hadn’t left the undead crow specific orders to slaughter his team. On the other hand, Dolma’s body was so precious to Nakula that Weeping Soul didn’t hesitate to sacrifice his faction, mates, life, everything, for the uncertain hope to snatch it. Any fool could see that should Nakula get his hands on Dolma, disastrous consequences awaited them all.

“But if it’s that important, why doesn’t he come get it in person? It’s entirely possible that Weeping Soul’s excessive loyalty to his master twisted his judgment. This is no laughing matter, if I make the wrong call, we might all get buried here,” Harun reasoned. Even if they played all their cards and gambled their lives here…they didn’t have over 30% chances of victory. At his back, Harun could feel the budding excitement of the Abyssal River which, now freed from Dolma’s control, awaited the chance to maul them all and suck their souls.

“Ret—”

“You must fight.” 

Speaking in a rare, authoritarian tone, the System cut Harun mid-talk, preventing him from issuing the retreat order. “While I’m not here to guide you every step of the way, I get too much enjoyment being in your brain to let you take a suicidal road so, just this once, I will give you clear directives: Fight. Protect that new doll of yours at all cost. There are many reasons why Nakula cannot do this in person, but if you let him get this body, there’s a 99.999% chance that it will be the death of you. If you’re willing to take that chance, leave now. If not, put your entire arsenal and life on the line if you must to crush that obnoxious crow into a paste of blood and gore.” The System declared, and though the change in tone perplexed him somewhat, Harun took the warning to heart.

“That being the case, let’s bring the chapter of the Weeping Soul Reverend to an end.”