Blood Without Regret's voice echoed across the altar, his unfinished words like a tautly drawn bowstring.
Chen Wuya's raised foot froze in midair, its tip only an inch from the blood trough. Bai Zhi's hand immediately settled on her sword hilt, her gaze sweeping over Blood Without Regret's face before shifting to the three glowing chains at the coral tree's roots. The South Sea Dragon Maiden hovered nearby, frost still lingering on her fingertips, her eyes cold and stern.
"There is one more thing I haven't told you." Blood Without Regret spoke slowly, his voice low. "To restart the seal, the blood of all three races must be poured into the blood troughs at once. Dragon essence blood, the true lineage of humanity, and the blood of the Demonic Cult's Holy Son—none can be absent."
As his words fell, the coral tree suddenly began to tremble. Its branches twisted, and three cracks split open in the ground. Three sunken blood troughs rose from beneath the earth, each aimed respectively at the South Sea Dragon Maiden, Bai Zhi, and himself.
Bai Zhi frowned. "Why me?"
"You are the only person in the Qingfeng Sword Sect in nearly a hundred years to cultivate the Pure Yang Sword Heart." Blood Without Regret looked at her. "Your blood bears the imprint of the orthodox martial lineage. It can stabilize the foundation of the seal."
The South Sea Dragon Maiden sneered. "If I offer my essence blood and vanish into nothing on the spot, which of you will take responsibility?"
"The ritual has begun. There is no way back." Blood Without Regret raised a hand and sliced open his palm. Blood dripped down, landing squarely in the black blood trough. In an instant, black light surged, spreading upward along the chains.
At the same time,