Chapter Fifty-Five: The Sudden Appearance of the Blood Clan
The ashen sky, tinged with crimson, hung oppressively low. At times, arcs of blood-red lightning flashed across the heavens, and the damp air bred a sense of restlessness. Amidst the boundless blood-hued mist, a solitary, lean figure pressed ever forward, his steps treading upon earth that grew ever more sodden and reeking of blood. Like a lone wolf, he moved with unwavering resolve toward the blood-stained plain ahead.
His shoulder-length black hair drifted with the wind. Though not handsome, his face bore sharp, resolute features, and his entire frame radiated a heat so at odds with the chilling world around him that even from a distance, one could feel the surging vitality within him.
“How vast is this Blood Spirit Secret Realm, that I’ve walked so long without glimpsing another soul!”
Ascending a low, rounded hill, surprise flickered through his eyes, soon replaced by a faint, wry smile at his lips. He paused, gazing into the distance. Who else could this be but Luo Hao?
There was no day or night in the Blood Spirit Secret Realm, and Luo Hao had lost track of how long he’d wandered through this sanguine world. All he knew was that the ancient mirror within his dantian had devoured no fewer than ten Blood Spirits along the way.
“To think, just moments ago the sky was shrouded in gloom and blood; yet here, the scenery is entirely transformed. The power of our forerunners is truly beyond our comprehension.”
Luo Hao was filled with awe atop the knoll. The blood-colored plain below was clear and bright, the sky above streaked with dazzling light. The ground, no longer a mire, had turned jet black.
Dark earth was entwined with lush, verdant grass and dotted with blossoms, their faint fragrance sweeping away the oppressive mood. Yet these grasses and flowers, unlike any in the outside world, even the smallest stood over a meter tall, and the tallest soared dozens of meters high, like towering ancient trees.
“A forest of flowers and grass, myriad wonders, endless transformations—this place is unfathomable indeed.”
The plain’s floral woods brought a sense of ease, but as Luo Hao threaded his way through their intoxicating scents, he remained ever vigilant.
The Blood Spirit Secret Realm appeared once every three hundred years, a land of fortune and peril. The more serene and harmonious the setting, the deadlier the lurking dangers.
Within the forest of grass and flowers, silent as a grave and devoid even of insect song, a stifling pressure mounted. The deeper Luo Hao ventured, the more an intense unease welled up within him.
“Come out. Even the sweetest floral fragrance cannot mask the stench of blood upon you.”
Suddenly, Luo Hao halted among the flowers and grass, his expression cold, a ruthless glint flickering in his eyes.
A chilling gale seemed to sweep through the woods the moment he spoke. The flowers and grasses trembled as a sinister, bone-freezing laugh echoed. Instantly, a nauseating stench of blood surged out from the depths of the floral forest like a monstrous tide.
“What rich blood qi. It’s been so long since I’ve tasted fresh blood.”
From the shadows within the deep woods, a humanoid figure stepped forward. With each stride, the blood-red hue among the flowers grew deeper. Bathed in pale light, the being’s true form emerged.
He was a tall, inhumanly beautiful man with slanted, icy eyes and blood-red hair cascading to his shoulders. His blood-colored robe fluttered without wind, and upon his pale skin it seemed as though fresh blood was forever streaming.
The stench of blood thickened as the man stopped three yards from Luo Hao, his crimson tongue licking lips as red as blood, eyes brimming with excitement—the thrill of a predator before its prey.
Looking at the man in the blood robe, Luo Hao felt a natural revulsion, his expression growing graver. “Are you a Blood Spirit too?” He was unsure; the difference between this figure and the Blood Spirits he’d encountered before seemed immense.
“Blood Spirit? Hahaha! How could those lowly creatures be likened to me? Human, I can sense the vast blood qi within you. Submit to me, and I will spare your life.” The blood-robed man’s arrogance was boundless, his eyes regarding everything with utter disdain, as if Luo Hao’s submission would be an honor beyond compare.
“He isn’t a Blood Spirit!”
No ordinary Blood Spirit could be what stood before him. While Blood Spirits might gain intelligence, they would manifest at least four demonic markings. From their exchange, it was clear this man possessed a human’s intellect, but Luo Hao saw no such markings on his brow.
“That a lowly human may serve the great Blood Clan should be your highest honor!” When Luo Hao spoke not a word, the blood-robed man grew all the more arrogant, his blood-red hair quivering madly.
“Blood Clan!”
Murderous intent surged within Luo Hao, his eyes filling with violent malice, the urge to kill boiling over. He drew a deep breath, willing himself calm—madness often blinded one to an opponent’s true power.
He unconsciously licked his dry lips as he stared at the blood-robed man. Never had he imagined this man would be of a foreign race: the Blood Clan, one of the ancient powers.
The humans of the Primordial Continent could never forget the massacre of the Middle Ages. Though that era had passed, and though records of that time were scarce, the hatred carved into their very bones was passed down through the bloodline, undiminished through the generations.
The Blood Clan were the architects of that darkness. Words could scarce describe such an age: a time of utter despair for the humans, more wretched than the damned. The Blood Clan raised humans as livestock for their blood, drank from skulls, and used the bodies of human women to breed blood gu larvae—nearly bringing humanity to extinction. For reasons unknown, the Blood Clan vanished overnight, granting humans a brief reprieve.
The Blood Clan were the sworn nemesis of humanity; there could be no reconciliation, only annihilation. Though Luo Hao was not native to this continent, as a human, how could he ever submit to such an enemy?
“Well, wretched blood-food, serve me and you shall be spared, just as your ancestors were made slaves to the Blood Clan. It is your glory—your only choice.” The blood-robed man’s voice was lofty and cold, a cruel and savage smile flashing in his eyes.
“Heh, I’m curious—why do you want my submission? What use do you have for me?” Luo Hao faced him unflinchingly, an easy smile lingering despite the Blood Clan’s fearsome reputation.
The blood-robed man was momentarily taken aback, not expecting the human to ask such a thing. By rights, he should already be kneeling in terror. Was his script awry? He retorted coldly, “Blood-food should know their place—the more you know, the sooner you die.”
“Is that so? Indeed, death comes quickly!”
Suddenly, the whole forest began to tremble, a roar ringing out as Luo Hao felt his spine ablaze. His battle-blood surged as never before, an indescribable will to fight erupting from within, as if an ancient war song or a primordial mountain had burst forth, making the blood-robed man falter in breath.
With murderous intent seething, Luo Hao appeared a peerless war god and coldly declared, “Take your damned ‘glory’ and crawl back to hell. That’s your choice.”
Thunderous roars echoed like the judgments of a god atop the nine heavens. If Luo Hao peered into his dantian at that moment, he would have seen the golden seal of “war” upon his spirit baby’s brow blazing with divine brilliance.
“Hmph! Ignorant blood-food, daring to defy the heavens, like an ant gazing upon a dragon.”
With a cold snort, the Blood Clan man unfurled blood-red wings that blotted out the sky. Mountains of corpses and seas of blood surged behind him. In a blink, a blood-soaked tide filled the heavens, shimmering with crimson light. Luo Hao could even hear the screams and wails of countless human souls within the blood sea.
“I’ll give you one last chance: submit, or die.” The blood-robed man’s expression twisted with savagery, his words thick with bloodlust.
“Roar!”
A tiger’s roar, ancient enough to shake the world, resounded—a beast king reborn. Luo Hao’s answer was swift and brutal. Amidst the killing intent, a golden fist blazed like the sun, striking across the sky. The force was pure and radiant, scattering the blood tide beneath its might.
“White Tiger Treads the Sun!”
With a wild roar, Luo Hao’s black hair whipped about madly, his battle-blood roaring in his veins. His resolve was unshakable—he could not lose, for his own sake and for the honor of his people, which could not be trampled by any.
A deafening clash of metal and horses filled the heavens, and the ancient, weathered phantom of a white tiger manifested behind him. Though only a shadow, its massive form and electric eyes radiated an immortal, timeless aura. The blood-robed man’s heart quailed as the tiger’s gaze fell upon him—for it seemed to possess a will of its own.
“Kill!”
Blood Clan and humans—sworn enemies since time immemorial, with no room for words, only slaughter. Both unleashed a chilling battle cry, like demons howling from the abyss. A thousand-foot blood wave surged behind the Blood Clan man, dyeing the sky crimson.
Luo Hao’s pupils constricted. The Blood Clan man struck with his palm, gathering the blood tide into his hand in an instant—a demonic, bloody light exploding forth.
In that moment, a hazy figure appeared behind the Blood Clan man—robed in blood-red dragon robes, wearing an imperial crown, astride a chariot of war. The phantom’s raised hand exuded boundless tyranny, an invincible imperial might shaking the very void.
“To die by the hands of Bloodslaughter is the highest honor for a human!”
The Blood Clan man laughed cruelly, his voice cold as death itself echoing from the sea of blood. The boundless scarlet light seemed to devour all. Luo Hao’s heart thundered, his blood boiling as if about to tear through his skin.
“Honor your damn self! Honor your whole family!” Feeling the crushing force of Blood Clan martial arts, Luo Hao had to admit their power was formidable. As the blood-red palm descended, he felt like a lone boat amid a raging sea, on the verge of capsizing at any moment.