Chapter 116: The First Trial of the Primordial God
Yu Xiaogang pulled an ancient, dust-covered book from inside his robes.
After much thought, he had decided to share the secret of the Blood Demon Ritual with his disciple.
He had promised Tang Hao that he would nurture an incredibly powerful Tang San—and although Tang San had indeed grown stronger, he was still far from meeting Tang Hao's expectations.
"This… I obtained on my way to Soto City two months ago," Yu Xiaogang said slowly, recounting his encounter at the roadside inn.
Tang San listened quietly, his expression gradually turning uneasy.
The "shadow of evil" and the so-called "Primordial God" that Yu Xiaogang described sounded suspiciously like the sort of charlatan priests who feigned mysticism back in his previous life.
"Teacher, are you saying that you broke through level thirty by performing this Blood Demon Ritual… using corpses as sacrifices?" Tang San asked flatly.
"Yes, Xiao San. The Primordial God is real. He truly grants power to those worthy of it." Yu Xiaogang nodded earnestly, an unsettling fervor flickering in his eyes.
"But teacher," Tang San said hesitantly, "didn't you say before that absorbing flesh and blood to increase one's strength was forbidden among spirit masters?"
He recalled the time he had used his Eight Spider Lances to absorb a spirit beast's corpse—Yu Xiaogang had sternly warned him that such acts were taboo.
Yu Xiaogang's expression turned awkward, but he quickly recovered, coughing lightly before speaking again.
"Xiao San, yes, absorbing flesh and blood directly is forbidden. But don't you desire greater power?"
"The power of the gods is not the same. The Primordial God stands far above common spirit masters. His gift isn't corruption—it's transcendence."
"Why do you think the Spirit Hall dominates the continent? Because they wield the blessing of the Angel God."
His tone grew increasingly fervent, almost fanatical.
Tang San fell silent. Memories of the Warlock's overwhelming dark might flashed before his eyes. His hands tightened unconsciously.
After a long pause, he looked up sharply. "Teacher… I want to try."
Yu Xiaogang's face lit up with almost joyful relief.
"Good! You'll soon understand, once you touch the power of the Primordial God, what divinity truly means."
He immediately began setting up the ritual.
Normally, the cemetery of Soto City did not hold many fresh bodies—yet the massacre from the night before had provided a gruesome abundance.
Most were corpse-still spirit masters, some as strong as Spirit Kings.
Yu Xiaogang's eyes gleamed greedily as he examined them, selecting the freshest ones suitable for sacrifice.
Tang San silently assisted, controlling his Blue Silver Grass to gather the corpses into one heap.
Yu Xiaogang, moving with practiced familiarity, dipped a stick in blood and began drawing complex sigils on the ground.
Within moments, the dark ritual circle was complete.
"Xiao San, step into the center," Yu Xiaogang instructed.
The boy complied, gaze uneasy. The air within the circle was thick with sinister intent.
"What do we do now, teacher?"
"Repeat after me," Yu Xiaogang said, holding up the Blood Demon Ritual booklet.
"O great Primordial God, accept my tribute…" he chanted devoutly.
Tang San hesitated, staring at the red, twisted writing—then reluctantly followed his teacher's lead.
As their voices intertwined, the ground beneath them began to glow a deep crimson.
The corpses melted into sludge, releasing waves of glowing scarlet mist that spread outward like rolling fog.
Tang San's eyes widened. The oppressive, surreal energy made his skin crawl. Instinctively, he activated his Purple Demon Eyes.
Light violet gleams flared in his pupils—and through that vision, he saw it.
A shadow, massive and foul, writhed within the bloody mist. Countless phantom figures circled it before merging into its darkness.
Then the shadow dispersed.
The crimson light streamed downward and poured into Tang San and Yu Xiaogang's bodies.
A wave of power surged through them, almost overwhelming in its intensity.
Luo Sanpao, the Blue Silver Grass, and even the Haotian Hammer manifested involuntarily.
Threads of blood-red luminescence seeped into all three spirits, dyeing them faintly crimson.
…
In the Shrek Academy dormitory, Luo Ling jolted upright from sleep.
Inside his mind, a faint chant echoed—foreign, eerie, unmistakable. His martial souls pulsed with restless energy.
Without hesitation, he activated Ghost Stealth and vanished, reappearing moments later atop the secluded back mountain.
There, his Crow Shadow Puppet and the Soul of Desire fused automatically, forming the demonic shape of the Desire Devil.
From thin air, vast streams of power appeared, flooding into him—but then, the Desire Devil's eyes flashed crimson.
All of that energy shifted course, funneling directly into the demon instead.
Its once-translucent body began solidifying, blood-red pupils glowing vividly within its forming head.
Luo Ling stared, stunned. For the first time, it felt as though the Desire Devil possessed a will of its own.
Before he could react, it shot toward him, merging seamlessly into his body.
Then came the voice—deep, resonant, echoing inside his mind.
"First Trial of the Primordial God: Spread faith. Acquire one hundred thousand followers of the Primordial Faith."
Luo Ling's head snapped up. The Desire Devil had fully merged with him, its power far stronger than ever before.
Thinking quickly, he connected the dots—he had felt this same strange surge once before, when Yu Xiaogang performed that grotesque ritual on Dai Mubai's corpse.
Yu Xiaogang was performing another sacrifice.
Luo Ling's eyes narrowed, twin crimson lights reflecting the image of Soto City.
Even in rest, his ravens never ceased their vigil—and soon, they revealed the truth.
At the cemetery, a thick blanket of blood mist covered the ground.
Yu Xiaogang and Tang San stood at its center.
Watching from afar, Luo Ling chuckled quietly.
He had intended to slowly guide them down the path of evil soul masters—but it seemed their thirst for power had already driven them right into darkness.
In the fog, the two were oblivious to the eyes watching them.
The blood mist poured into their bodies and spirit souls.
Blue Silver Grass, Haotian Hammer, even Luo Sanpao—all tinted scarlet.
When the haze finally cleared, both men stood trembling, exhilarated.
"I… I'm at level thirty-seven!" Tang San said, staring at his glowing hands in disbelief.
One ritual—five levels gained. Compared to years of training, the ease was intoxicating.
"I advanced by four levels myself," Yu Xiaogang said, equally astounded.
Neither realized the cost of the power they had just summoned.
(END CHAPTER)
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