Chapter 24: The Banquet of Destiny
Dawn slid like a river of vibrant, liquid gold down the steep slopes of Skull Rock. For the first time in long, agonizing months, the Morningstar Clan woke up without the suffocating sensation of having a guillotine blade brushing against their necks.
The air inside the colossal cavern and the outer oasis was electrified—not by the deadly tension of the past, but by a density of Qi so pure it caressed the lungs. A contained joy, a fierce and almost wild relief flooded the three hundred and thirty souls of the fortress. The miracle of Ascension had left its physical mark: chronic wounds had completely closed, old aches from bones splintered during their flight had disappeared, and the warriors' skin glowed with a healthy, lethal sheen.
The central obsidian plaza, now dominated by the imposing, dark five-story silhouette of the Dragon Tower Pavilion, buzzed with activity.
The children, who barely days ago wept from nightmares of fire and swords, now ran chasing each other among the massive stalactites. The elders laughed with tears in their eyes, seated on silk tapestries recovered from their raids, feeling as though their withered meridians had turned back time by ten years. The warriors and disciples of the martial pavilion polished their black scale armors, wove new banners bearing the emblem of the fallen star, and prepared the immense hearths for the greatest banquet the clan had seen since its fateful destruction in Dawn City.
The outer oasis teemed with an almost miraculous life. Thanks to the System's resource multiplier, spiritual lotus flowers and Qi fruits sprouted with an unknown vigor and size. The underground river of crystalline water had widened, flowing with a melody that calmed the mind.
Kael Morningstar, leaning against a stone wall near the entrance, watched the bustle with a discreet smile. His dark red hair swayed in the morning breeze, and his golden eyes, usually as sharp as blades, showed a rare flash of serenity. Even though his heart was still that of a sword forged to massacre his Patriarch's enemies, and the uncertainty about his mother still beat within him, for the first time in countless moons he allowed himself to feel a little real peace. His hands, however, never strayed far from the hilt of the Whisper of the North. Even in paradise, the vanguard does not sleep.
A few meters away from him, Violeta and Eris, dressed in new silk robes of midnight blue and crimson, moved through the crowd. They were no longer the frightened girls from the carriage. They had massacred enemy elites, and the clan looked at them with a deep respect tinged with reverential fear. While the clan's secondary branch served jugs of spiritual wine and platters of roasted meat, Eris generated small, controlled sparks of fire to light the distant torches, while Violeta maintained a constant, freezing breeze that cooled the cooks near the ovens.
Their deep bloodlines, the fateful Taboo Red Destiny, remained mostly sealed, but the deadly purity of their elements pulsed with every breath.
Grand Elder Lilith, dressed in ceremonial robes of ash and gold, walked among her people with a restored, regal dignity. The mutated fire in her blood glowed faintly in her eyes, and the absence of her left arm no longer looked like a mutilation, but a badge of honor. Cedric, Xylia, and Elowen walked behind her, discussing in low voices the caloric distribution of the pills and the new patrol routes, with the absolute certainty that this morning of victory was wonderfully real, even if deep down they knew it would be fleeting.
In the midst of all this rebirth, Samael Morningstar seemed to be made of another substance.
Dressed in his black tunic, he walked among his people, returning martial salutes and nodding with a slight smile. At first glance, he was a young human Sovereign celebrating with his people—pale, imposing, and serene. But the weight of a cosmic vision burned in his gaze. Through the Patriarch's Eye, he saw the threads of destiny intertwining above their heads. And deep in his chest, where the Origin Realm core beat with power, the vibration of the System interface was as vast and profound as the sky itself.
[Patriarch System: Ascension Protocol Finalized.][All Epic and Mythic Grade rewards have been secured in the Soul Vault.][Mysterious Chest, Gacha Ticket, Conceptual Fragments, Guardian Contract, Mythic Egg, Bloodline Heritages, and Infrastructure Upgrades ready for distribution.][Destiny Choice: Pending confirmation.][Global Buff: Residual Luck Multiplier x5 active for all openings and assimilations for the next 12 hours.]
Samael clenched his fists at his sides. Today would be a banquet for the senses, for the family, and above all, for destiny.
By mid-morning, the immense obsidian plaza had transformed into a banquet hall beneath the cavern's vaulted ceiling. The clan sat in concentric circles on thick, woven blankets.
Cedric had orchestrated the logistical distribution with military precision so that no one was left without the cuts of beast meat richest in Qi. Elowen walked among the tables, pouring drops of lotus essence and invigorating pill powder into the immense barrels of wine and water, blessing the drinks. Xylia and Kael, amidst jokes, challenging glares, and a mutual respect forged in blood, organized small, friendly arm-wrestling and aura-control competitions among the younger warriors to keep spirits high.
At the head of the plaza, on a polished stone platform, Seraphina presided over the main table beside Samael.
The Matriarch wore the mythical Blue Phoenix Ice Crown. Her mere presence was an intoxicating paradox: she exuded the crushing majesty of an imperial lion and the lethal beauty of an eternal winter. The sheer density of her Supreme Yin Lotus Body at Transcendent Stage 1 raised the morale of anyone who looked at her, instilling a blind courage in the troops. The children laughed out loud when, with a subtle flick of her fingers, she created small ice butterflies that fluttered over the tables before vanishing into a refreshing mist.
When the goblets were full, Lilith stepped up to the central dais. The bustling noise stopped immediately.
"Today, for the first time in three generations, the Morningstars eat, drink, and breathe without fear biting at the back of our necks," the Grand Elder proclaimed, her amplified voice echoing off the obsidian walls. "Today we celebrate gold and obsidian, the void and the fire. We celebrate our Patriarch and our Matriarch... but above all, we celebrate the blood that refuses to surrender before the Heavens!"
The entire clan rose to their feet in a clatter of armor and silk tunics, cheering and raising their goblets of spiritual wine toward the cavern's dome.
"FOR THE MORNINGSTARS!" three hundred throats roared in unison. "FOR BLOOD AND THE FUTURE!"
Samael raised his own goblet and drank, allowing himself to watch his people, his "family." For a genuine instant, he felt the intoxicating warmth of belonging to something tangible in this lower world. But even amidst the jubilation, the Sovereign's mind was working a mile a minute. The rewards waited in the darkness of his soul. And the bloody wheel of destiny never stops to celebrate.
An hour after the climax of the banquet, while the clan continued to feast, Samael summoned his absolute pillars—Kael, Cedric, Xylia, Elowen, Lilith, Violeta, Eris, and Seraphina—and they retreated in silence toward the heavy black jade doors of the newly materialized Dragon Tower Pavilion.
Upon crossing the threshold of the tower's first floor, the change was brutal. The air inside was so dense with environmental Qi that it almost felt liquid in the lungs. The red wood of the beams pulsed as if it had veins of its own.
No one but Samael knew the wonders and terrors hidden in the next step of their evolution.
Standing in the center of the mystic hexagram engraved on the tower floor, Samael turned to his leaders. His violet eyes shone with a preternatural intensity.
"The Primordial Abyss, that which devours everything and returns everything," Samael declared, offering no further explanation than his own gaze. "These relics are blessings torn from the unknown, treasures that would make the foundations of the world tremble. Today, we will surpass the limits of the flesh. But listen to me well: these gifts are not free; they are cursed responsibilities, and the strength you acquire today is the weight of the blood we will spill together."
Samael raised his hand and touched the base of a red wooden pillar. The entire building hummed in response.
"Starting today, cultivation and martial comprehension are accelerated tenfold inside this tower. This will be the core of our absolute defense. In here, we will forge the monsters that will devour this world."
Kael, breathing in the pure aura of the tower, closed his eyes and felt the conceptual seed of the sword in his chest throb with an unprecedented ferocity. Violeta and Eris noticed how their ice and fire elements became exponentially clearer and more docile, as if a thick veil had been lifted from their minds.
With a wave of his free hand, Samael materialized two objects from sub-space: a gigantic egg of jade and gold scales that pulsed with a rhythmic light, and a heavy scroll bound with threads of dried blood.
"Here sleeps our future," Samael said, pointing to the Mythic Egg. "It is the Guardian of the Sand. When it awakens, it will be our shield and the emblem of our annihilation. Lilith, this Ancestral Summoning Contract will merge with the citadel's array. In the event of a critical invasion by a Semi-Saint while I am away, our ancestors' spiritual Guardian can be summoned once to annihilate the threat."
Samael stored the egg and the contract to be sealed later in the depths, and then handed the ancient Mythic Grade scroll to Cedric.
"The Art of the Ten Thousand Mirrors Formation," the Patriarch decreed. "It is yours, Cedric."
Cedric took the scroll. The instant his gloved fingers brushed the ancient material, a download of hyper-complex divine and geometric information pierced his skull. The Regressor choked back a scream of agony. He fell to his knees, trembling violently, as two thin lines of blood welled up from his gray eyes and ran down his cheeks. The weight of assimilating Mythic Grade knowledge was tearing his mortal mind apart.
"Cedric!" Elowen exclaimed, taking a step forward.
"Do not touch him!" Samael ordered with an iron voice. "If he cannot bear the weight of the knowledge, he is not worthy of using it."
Cedric gritted his teeth until his gums bled, forcing his experienced soul to organize the tide of city-scale illusory and defensive arrays flooding his brain. After a few agonizing seconds, the Regressor opened his eyes, bloodstained but shining with a terrifying comprehension.
"With this..." Cedric panted, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "No one will take us by surprise. No one will know what is real and what is a deathtrap inside our walls."
Samael nodded in approval and turned to the Thunder Empress. A prismatic gem radiating encapsulated lightning appeared in his hand. It was the Universal Heritage Crystal.
"Xylia. Step forward."
The young woman stepped up, standing at rigid military attention. Samael did not hesitate. He shoved the crystal directly into the center of the breastplate of Xylia's armor. The jewel melted like mercury and penetrated her sternum.
Black and white lightning erupted in Xylia's pupils, illuminating the entire tower. Her leather and metal armor cracked violently at the shoulders and arms, revealing for a fraction of a second the thick scales of a storm dragon pulsing beneath her pale skin, before hiding themselves once more.
Xylia fell to her knees, panting as the air around her crackled with static electricity strong enough to char stone. Her deep bloodline, the true heritage of the Dragon, still remained mostly sealed, waiting for the proper level so as not to explode her mortal body. However, her surface affinity mutated wildly. Her control over Lightning and Thunder multiplied tenfold, and a monstrous new resonance was born in the center of her Dantian.
"My power... the sky hears me..." Xylia whispered, raising a trembling hand from which electric arcs leaped. "The Weather Mandate. I can command the storm."
The group watched in awe as her strength consolidated.
Samael proceeded to announce the Clan Trait: "Black Iron Will", ensuring that no Morningstar would ever again yield to the oppressive fear of higher-realm cultivators, and handed Seraphina the Underground Sanctuary Key, a temporally dilated space for the elite warriors to assimilate their new energy.
With his generals dispatched to fulfill their new duties and organize the defenses based on their new powers, Samael was left alone in the hexagram on the first floor of the Dragon Tower.
It was time to tempt cosmic fortune.
System. Activate the Mythic Gacha Roulette Ticket. A single spin.
In front of him, on the spiritual plane that only his eyes could perceive, a gigantic, imposing wheel made of galaxy gears, ancient runes, and symbols of dead gods appeared floating. The prizes engraved in its slots ranged from divine weapons that could split stars to world-extinguishing beasts.
[Luck Multiplier x5 Active.][Critical Probability: Severely Elevated.]
Samael did not hesitate. With a mental flick, he pushed the wheel.
The colors and runes danced in a dizzying frenzy, emitting a sound like the clashing of colossal swords. The speed gradually decreased, second by second, building an unbearable tension in Samael's meridians, until the cosmic needle stopped dead with a deafening crash.
[EPIC CRITICAL ACHIEVED!][You have obtained the following consolidated items in the Grand Spin:]
Minor Law of Space Fragment: A splintered concept. It does not confer absolute mastery, but acts as the perfect catalyst to awaken the spatial talent hidden in the Void Dragon Blood.Void Dragon Imperial Armor (Mythic Grade): An exoskeleton of solidified energy.Appearance: "The Obsidian Throne".The armor is a masterpiece of impossible geometry, forged in void crystal that seems to absorb ambient light, leaving Samael enveloped in a constant gloom.Breastplate and Abdomen: The plates of liquid obsidian move as if alive, adjusting to every muscle. A primordial dragon engraving runs across the torso, with a Dragon Heart gem in the center that pulses with a deep red glow.Armor Functions (Mythic Grade):Mantle of Nonexistence (Passive Defense):Effect: Samael becomes "blurry" to the laws of the world.Mechanic: Long-range attacks (arrows, spells, elemental techniques) simply pass through the space the armor occupies without touching him, as if he were a ghost. Only Peak Great Saint grade attacks with reality laws can force physical contact.
[AUTHORITY NOTIFICATION — ASCENSION PROTOCOL]Registry Status: 4 additional Skill Paths have been detected in the armor. Warning: Access to these skills remains [LOCKED].
Summoning Seal (Single Use): Blue Flame Spirit. A soul remnant bound to a blood contract. Grants a temporary ally with combat power equivalent to the Saint Realm Stage 1. Duration: Until its energy dissipates.Bloodline Evolution Talismans x3: Inactive stored seals.
Samael rapidly analyzed the loot, his tactical mind assimilating the limits of his new wealth.
He extracted the crystal containing the Imperial Armor. The instant he broke it, a dark, starry liquid enveloped his torso, arms, and legs beneath his cloth tunic. The sensation was suffocating and wonderfully protective.
The armor is Mythic Grade, Samael analyzed, feeling the weight on his chest, but my current cultivation at Origin Realm Stage 9 barely allows me to passively activate five percent of its defensive arrays. It will protect me from lethal impacts by Semi-Saints or Saints, preventing my organs from turning to mush, but I won't be able to channel its offensive power to attack. Not yet.
The Holy Spirit Summoning Seal and the Talismans were sent directly to the safest zone of his spatial ring. The Blue Flame Spirit would be his ultimate ace in the hole for when the true calamity of the North arrived at the gates.
But Samael knew night was approaching. And he needed power now to deal with the immediate threat preceding the Valois army.
[System: Destiny Choice Event Pending.][Option 1: Immediate awakening and assimilation of the Minor Law of Space.][Option 2: Extend Array protection to external allies.][Option 3: Reveal location of imperial relic.]
Samael didn't even look at options two and three. He knew exactly what he needed to face assassins at the level of a Semi-Saint.
He extracted the Minor Law of Space Fragment he had just won in the roulette. It was a translucent crystal shard that seemed to contain a collapsing universe inside it.
"I choose Option one," Samael decreed, pressing the shard and the System's will into his chest.
A beam of pure white and violet light, devoid of heat but infinitely heavy, pierced his Origin core.
The impact of introducing a "Law of the Universe" into a mortal body that had barely just entered the Origin Realm was monstrous. Samael dropped to one knee, choking back a guttural scream as blood oozed from his pores. He felt the space itself around him reject him and then forcibly assimilate him. His meridians were torn and stitched back together, now imbued with the concept of "distance."
[System: Forced Assimilation Completed.][Minor Law of Space, Stage 1, Unlocked.][Your inherent talent of Primordial Blood, Dragon Physique, and Void has synergized with the spatial concept.][Effects: Trajectory alteration, creation of tactical micro-portals, and short-range combat distance distortion abilities available.]
Samael stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his lip. He raised his hand and, with a mere thought, the space ten centimeters from his fingers warped, distorting the image of the wall behind him as if viewed through a funhouse mirror. The power of a Semi-Saint finally flowed in his veins, albeit primitively. He was no longer defenseless against the concepts of the world.
As the late afternoon sun began to dye the outer dunes a bloody orange, the interior of Skull Rock maintained its aura of martial festivity.
The warriors tested Cedric's illusory arrays, bewildered by corridors that changed direction. Kael crossed his sword against the new blood spears Samael materialized at will in the training courtyard, the sound of steel and Void clashing repeatedly. Violeta and Eris pushed their elements to the limit under the protection of the new Black Iron Will.
But the relative peace shattered when the immense gates of the citadel opened just enough to let in a scout wrapped in a dusty, tattered cloak.
The man, one of the best trackers Cedric had trained, fell to his knees in the center of the plaza. His face was pale from pure terror.
"News from the northern border!" the scout yelled, drawing the attention of all the leaders. "The Winter Guard is moving, but something much worse has come ahead of them!"
Samael, Cedric, Xylia, and Seraphina approached quickly.
"Speak clearly, soldier," Samael ordered, his voice calming the man's panic.
"Patriarch... the dunes are cursed," the scout gasped. "A mercenary hired by the Valois. They call him the Dune Shadow. He is an assassin ranked at Semi-Saint Stage 1. He crossed the Salt River using fine sand portals and is traveling at an unnatural speed. Our informant in the mercenary network claims Patriarch Alaric sent him with a single mission: infiltrate tonight, decapitate you before you can declare victory, and destroy the tower."
Cedric gritted his teeth, his mind calculating disastrous probabilities.
"A Semi-Saint expert in concealment and assassination. The perimeter arrays we set up won't detect someone who can become one with the desert sand. He will reach our walls in a few hours."
Samael crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the weight of the hidden Mythic armor beneath his clothes and the pulse of distorted space in his meridians.
"Let him come. Today I assimilated the perfect medicine for dealing with slippery ghosts."
Night fell heavy, dark, and devoid of stars over the Dragon Bone Desert. The wind howled through the dunes like the lament of a thousand lost souls.
Samael gathered the entirety of the Morningstar Legion on the obsidian esplanade, right beneath the crimson glow of the Dragon Tower. Torches illuminated the hardened faces of the three hundred disciples, clad in their black armors, ready to kill or die.
Samael stepped up to the dais. He didn't look like a merciful savior; he stood like an absolute tyrant who had just reclaimed his throne.
"Listen to me well, Morningstar Legion!" His voice, infused with the pressure of the Origin Realm, was not a shout, but it froze the blood of everyone present and drowned out the sound of the wind outside. "Tomorrow, the whole world will come to claim the blood price for our Ascension. The 'great powers' of this continent, the tyrants who sit on thrones of ice and the assassins who hide in the sand, will think they can trample this Tower we just built. They will think they can keep us kneeling and scared in the dark."
Samael unsheathed his Odachi, the edge of the Ravenous Eclipse reflecting the crimson fire.
"I do not promise you heroic deeds. I do not promise you compassion or an ounce of merciful pity for anyone who dares cross our gates with a weapon in hand. The only thing I promise you tonight is that the rocks of this desert are going to drink every last drop of your enemies' blood."
Samael pointed the tip of his sword toward the colossal obsidian gate that separated the cave from the outer desert.
"Let their damn assassins come! Let them bring their eternal winter!" roared the Sovereign of the Void. "Because when they knock on our doors, the only thing they're going to find... is fucking hell!"
A deafening clamor of weapons clashing against shields erupted in the cavern. Kael raised his sword, Violeta and Eris flared their auras of ice and fire, and the entire clan roared in a frenzy of pure bloodlust. Fear had been eradicated; only war remained.
Miles away, amidst the absolute blackness of the outer desert.
A whirlwind of fine black sand began to spin over the crest of a massive dune, defying the natural direction of the wind. From the sand itself, a hooded silhouette, faceless and wielding two curved daggers that did not reflect the moonlight, slowly emerged.
The Dune Shadow fixed his empty, spectral gaze on the distant crimson light emanating from Skull Rock. The Semi-Saint took a single step forward, and his entire body vanished, melting into the desert, becoming the invisible edge that would cut the dragon's throat.
The banquet was over. The true slaughter was about to begin.
END OF CHAPTER 24