Chapter 6 — The Beast King's Blood Seal

It was impossible to tell how long they had been flying before Mo Uyen finally deigned to halt by the shore of a vast, boundless lake. I slid down from its broad back, my consciousness already fraying at the edges. The backlash from forcing the Beast King Essence was catastrophic—the meridians throughout my entire body were nearly severed, and my internal organs had suffered devastating trauma. Without immediate and potent medical intervention, I would likely perish right here in this desolate wilderness. Mo Uyen paced frantically around me in circles, a low, mournful whimpering vibrating deep within its throat. It pressed its rough, warm tongue against my pale face, desperately trying to summon me back from the brink of oblivion. I forced my heavy eyelids to part a fraction, locking my gaze upon those fierce, crimson beast-pupils brimming with profound remorse and agonizing anxiety.

Do not waste your strength anymore, I murmured, my voice as frail and thin as a gossamer thread. Find a place to bury me... and make sure you choose somewhere with good geomantic properties...

With those final words, my head slumped sideways, and I completely lost consciousness. In the fleeting moment before darkness swallowed me whole, I fancied I saw the tranquil surface of the lake part cleanly down the middle, and a tall, noble gentleman in magnificent embroidered robes stepped leisurely out from the depths. His appearance was transcendently handsome, yet the gaze he cast upon me was an intricate labyrinth of emotions—deep, unfathomable, and heavy with unspoken history.

When next I opened my eyes, I found myself resting upon a soft, warm jade bed, enveloped by an opulent palace so resplendent and magnificent it dazzled the senses. The air was saturated with a rich, vibrant density of aquatic spiritual energy; with every inhalation, my entire body felt as though it were being nourished by immortal dew. What astonished me even more was that my injuries had healed without a trace, and my cultivation base had actually taken a monumental leap forward, vaguely touching the threshold of the Nascent Soul realm.

I sat up slowly, my mind still enveloped in a hazy mist. Where... was I?

A graceful female attendant dressed in ceremonial court robes stepped softly into the chamber; her demeanor was serene and gentle, yet upon her forehead flickered the faint, translucent aura of the demon race—she was an abalone spirit. Seeing that I had regained consciousness, she curtsied with utmost reverence.

Honored maiden, you are finally awake. Our King requests an audience.

King?

I followed the abalone spirit out of the intimate bedchamber, traversing winding corridors until we entered a grand hall several times more majestic and awe-inspiring than the last. Upon the elevated dais at the far end of the hall sat a man draped in a majestic black dragon robe, exuding an air of supreme authority. His features were striking and impossibly handsome, yet radiated a chilling, untouchable majesty. His pupils were vertical slits of brilliant, molten gold, carrying a piercing gravity that seemed capable of stripping away all pretense and gazing straight into the human soul. It was the very same man I had glimpsed by the lake on that fateful day.

Mo Uyen was curled up comfortably at his feet, and upon catching sight of me, it sprang up excitedly, bounding forward to rub its massive head affectionately against my palm.

Your wounds were healed by my hand, the man upon the throne spoke.

His voice was deep and resonant, echoing like the rhythmic beating of a war drum from the ocean floor, possessing an inherent magnetism that made one's heart skip a beat. In exchange, you shall remain here... and become my Queen.

I froze in sheer disbelief. What kind of development was this? Being rescued only to be immediately blackmailed into repaying the debt with marriage? Were demon kings nowadays always this brazenly direct?

Who are you? I demanded, frowning.

This monarch is the Dragon King of the North Sea, Ao Lan.

He stared down at me, a complicated, unreadable emotion flickering briefly within his golden, slit-like pupils. Within your aura... lingers the scent of an old friend.

I knitted my brows slightly and offered no reply. How could an insignificant human cultivator like myself possibly have any connection to an old acquaintance of a mighty Dragon King?

I will not stay here, I refused flatly, leaving no room for negotiation.

Ao Lan did not appear remotely surprised by my rejection. I am well aware that you harbor a vengeance that must be settled. He paused for a heartbeat before continuing, I can assist you. Your enemy... is the Beast Taming Sect, am I correct?

My heart sank heavily. How did he come to possess this knowledge?

On that day when you summoned the True Will of the Beast King, every demon entity across the northern territories felt the disturbance. It required only a modicum of effort for this monarch to unearth your origins, Ao Lan stated with casual indifference. The Beast Taming Sect is nothing more than a second-rate mortal sect; erasing them from existence requires no more effort than a flick of my finger. Provided you nod and agree to become my Queen, I shall personally level the Beast Taming Sect to dust and hand their lives over so you may exact your revenge with your own hands.

His words carried a terrifying, seductive weight. A promise from a Dragon King—just how immense its value was, I understood better than anyone. If I merely nodded in assent, my monumental vengeance would be accomplished instantly. But...

I looked up at him and slowly shook my head. This hatred is mine alone, and I shall settle it with my own hands.

I had never relished the idea of having my destiny manipulated by others, nor did I wish to barter away my hard-won freedom merely to expedite a slaughter. A flash of genuine admiration crossed Ao Lan’s eyes. Excellent. This monarch has always favored an unyielding spirit that refuses to bow. Since that is your decision, I shall not force you. However, you have only just recovered from near-fatal wounds and are hardly in condition for a hasty journey. It would be wiser to remain within the Dragon Palace to recuperate for a time. Whenever you wish to depart, I give you my word that none shall bar your path.

I was slightly taken aback; I had never anticipated that he would be so reasonable. Yet, given the current state of my physical vessel, I genuinely required a secure sanctuary to consolidate my newfound power.

My gratitude to the Dragon King.

In the end, I remained. The days spent sequestered within the shimmering depths of the Dragon Palace were unexpectedly tranquil. Ao Lan never broached the subject of my becoming his Queen again, instead dispatching an endless stream of rare celestial treasures and earthly herbs to my quarters each day to assist in perfecting my cultivation. On various occasions, he would personally visit to play a game of strategy or partake in fine tea while exchanging philosophical discourse. I gradually realized he was far from the tyrannical, bloodthirsty monster I had initially envisioned. He was profoundly learned and wise, occasionally seasoning his conversation with cool, dry wit. Yet... the gaze he cast in my direction invariably harbored subtle traces of quiet probing and lingering sorrow. This peculiar duality continually stirred a sense of unease within my chest.

At last, after half a month had elapsed, my cultivation was thoroughly consolidated, having even advanced a stage further than before my injuries. I sought him out to bid my farewells.

He made no effort to detain me, merely fixing me with a long, profound look before he spoke. When you depart this time, tread carefully.

With that, he transferred a jet-black scale—a fragment of true dragon armor—into my palm. Should you encounter mortal peril, shatter this, and I shall arrive instantaneously.

I accepted the artifact, feeling the lingering warmth of his divine heat still pulsing through the dragon scale, while a nameless emotion rippled through my chest. Thank you.

Accompanied by Mo Uyen, I stepped forth and took my leave of the magnificent underwater palace. Standing upon the jagged cliffs overlooking the churning grey expanse of the North Sea, I glanced back one final time; the dazzling, crystalline citadel had already vanished completely into the abyssal trenches below. Drawing in a deep, resolute breath, I turned my gaze toward the southern horizon—where dark, ominous storm clouds churned heavily in the distance, mirroring the tempest raging within my mind.

Beast Taming Sect... I have returned.

Mo Uyen and I once again approached the towering mountain gates of the Beast Taming Sect. This time, I made no attempt to shroud or conceal my approach. Monstrous demonic energy billowed upward in dark, tempestuous columns, punching straight through the cloud cover and shaking the very vault of the heavens. The entire sect was instantly thrown into absolute chaos; the grand protective barrier activated with frantic brilliance, and countless disciples and elders flooded out in a disciplined, formidable battle formation.

At their vanguard stood none other than my esteemed former master.

Upon catching sight of me and the colossal beast beneath me, the color drained completely from his face, leaving it the hue of ash. You... you actually dare to return!

No matter how hard he tried to mask it, his voice could not entirely suppress an involuntary tremble. Evidently, the events of our previous encounter had etched a deep, indelible trauma into his soul.

Why would I not dare? I vaulted down gracefully from Mo Uyen's back, gripping the handle of my demonic blade as I advanced step by deliberate step. There is still an outstanding debt here that requires settlement.

Unfilial wretch! Do you truly believe we fear you?

The sharp-nosed elder—the very same who had been severely wounded by my hand previously—lunged forward, his face twisted in a ferocious sneer as he forced a display of bravado. Today, you shall pay for this insolence in blood!

Before he could unleash his technique, a hand shot out from the master to physically restrain him. The master's gaze was extraordinarily complex, reflecting a turbulent inner struggle. Finally, he exhaled a long, heavy sigh.

Ling Ye, hatred breeds hatred through endless cycles; when will it finally cease? What occurred in the past was indeed a failing of the sect. Provided you are willing to lay aside this vengeance, the sect is prepared to offer any form of compensation you desire. We can even pass the mantle of the Sect Master to you...

He had chosen compromise once again, proving willing to dangle the supreme seat of power as a bargaining chip to appease me.

Regrettably, I was no longer the naive young girl who desperately craved validation and approval from this hypocritical institution.

Compensation? Sect Master?

I burst into laughter—a cold, mocking sound that chilled the surrounding air to freezing temperatures. You destroyed a decade of my life, executed me once without mercy, and now you expect a single perfunctory apology to wipe the slate clean? Did you bother to ask... whether the blade in my hand agrees to such terms?

These words caused the master's expression to harden into absolute granite. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this battle was utterly unavoidable.

Form the array! he roared at the top of his lungs.

Every single elder and core disciple immediately snapped into their respective positions, weaving together a colossal sword-ki array that blotted out the sun and shook the firmament.

The Ten Thousand Swords Returning to Origin Formation!

This was the ultimate trump card of the Beast Taming Sect, as well as their most devastating combined combat technique. Legend dictated that once this array was fully unfurled, its offensive power was sufficient to slay even an immortal of the Divinity Transformation stage. Countless razor-sharp sword beams converged from every conceivable angle, sealing off every potential route of escape.

Mo Uyen released a furious roar, preparing to charge forward, but I raised a hand to halt it.

This battle belongs to me.

I stared up at the canopy of flashing steel and lethal sword energy, my eyes devoid of fear—burning only with the fierce, unbridled fury of combat. I elevated the demonic blade, channeling every drop of vital force within my mortal vessel directly into the razor edge. Black baleful energy surged vertically into the empyrean, condensing directly behind my back into the towering, hundred-foot phantom of an ancient demon god—possessing three heads and six arms, its visage hideously ferocious, radiating an aura potent enough to shatter the cosmos itself.

Transforming Demon Art—Third Stage: Descent of the Demon God!