Styx's Proposal

Chapter 31: Styx's Proposal

There were no lights in the palace.

Nor any windows.

Only the walls and the dome were inlaid with dark red crystals of varying sizes, emitting a faint luster, like solidified blood, barely illuminating the vast hall.

Taiyi stood in this light, feeling a chill. It wasn't the cold of low temperature, but the kind of chill that emanated from the very marrow of one's bones as the light seemed to stare at you. The floor was paved with some kind of dark, near-black bone plates, hard underfoot, with a creepy slipperiness, like stepping on the spine of some giant creature.

The sweet, fishy smell in the air was fainter than outside, but another scent was added—fragrance. A very strange, cloyingly sweet, yet mixed with old dust and herbal notes, wafted from the depths of the hall, tendril by tendril, drilling into one's nostrils.

He didn't walk further in, standing not far from the entrance, his back ramrod straight, his right hand habitually behind his back, his mutated left arm hanging naturally. His gaze calmly swept across the surroundings.

The hall was terrifyingly empty. Apart from a few ridiculously thick pillars, also made of a mixture of bones and dark red crystals supporting the dome, there were almost no furnishings. No chairs, no tables, no curtains, not even a cushion. In the deepest shadows, there seemed to be a raised platform, with something blurry on it, indistinct.

This place didn't seem like a place to receive guests, more like a... nest. Or an altar.

Taiyi stood for a while, neither Styx entering nor any attendants or guides appearing. Only the sweet fragrance and the faint blood-red light silently enveloped him.

He decided to stop moving and sat down cross-legged on the spot—his posture still upright, his spine straight. His eyes were half-closed, as if conserving energy, but in reality, his mind was stretched to its absolute limit, outwardly relaxed but inwardly tense.

This was, after all, Styx's lair, the core of the Sea of Blood. Who knew how many deadly traps and prying eyes were hidden in this seemingly empty palace?

He circulated the meager magic power within him at the slowest possible speed, maintaining only the most basic circulation, while simultaneously suppressing the aura of the True Sun Fire to almost non-existence, avoiding unnecessary conflict with the dense, sinister blood energy surrounding him. Most of his consciousness sank into his sea of consciousness, maintaining a faint connection with the afterimage of the Chaos Bell and the imprint of the Heaven-Opening Axe, like gripping two cold daggers in the darkness.

Time flowed exceptionally sluggishly here.

After an unknown duration, perhaps fifteen minutes, perhaps longer.

The cloyingly sweet fragrance from the depths of the hall suddenly intensified slightly.

Immediately after, the blurry object in the shadows of the raised platform moved.

It didn't walk out; it emerged.

Like a drop of thick, dark red ink, slowly seeping out from the dark background, gradually condensing and taking shape.

Still wearing that dark blood-red robe, still with that deathly pale face and crimson eyes.

Old Ancestor Styx.

He was sitting on a... thing that was less a chair and more a large mass of twisted, coiling, dark red vine-like material. The surface of the "vines" was covered with fine, vein-like patterns, with a faint dark light flowing within, and it was still writhing very slowly.

He sat there casually, one elbow resting on the vine armrest, his pale hand cupping his cheek, the other hand resting naturally on his knee. His posture was languid, even somewhat nonchalant, but when those crimson eyes looked over, Taiyi still felt an invisible pressure, more direct and targeted than when he was outside the hall.

"Your Majesty is quite patient," Styx spoke, his voice echoing slightly in the vast hall, less viscous now, with more tangible texture. "The Sea of Blood is lonely, and few guests arrive. I hope you will forgive any lack of hospitality."

His words were polite, but his tone carried little apology.

"A little quiet is also good," Taiyi replied indifferently, his eyes fully open, meeting Styx's gaze. "This Emperor happens to need some time to sort things out."

He didn't mention his injuries, only "sorting things out," acknowledging his poor condition without appearing too disheveled.

Styx's crimson eyes lingered on him for a moment, especially on his mutated left arm and the deliberately suppressed yet still obscure and mixed aura around him, then slowly moved away, looking at a spot on the void ceiling.

"The 'complexity' of the aura within Your Majesty is truly rare," Styx's voice was unhurried, as if discussing an interesting antique. "The True Sun Fire is supremely yang, the residual power of the Blood Fiend is extremely violent, the earth's malevolent energy is extremely turbid, the Xuan Ming's cold energy is supremely yin... and there is also an 'intent' that even this old ancestor finds vague and difficult to discern, mixed within. Such incompatible elements, existing in one body without completely collapsing, and yet possessing a kind of... rough stability. Your Majesty's methods have truly opened this old ancestor's eyes."

These words were more revealing than those spoken outside the hall, having practically laid bare his internal secrets. He had even vaguely sensed the "intent" of the Heaven-Opening Axe imprint!

Taiyi's heart sank slightly, but his expression remained unchanged. He even managed a slightly mocking smile. "Fellow Daoist exaggerates. It's merely a desperate, haphazard patchwork, treating a dying horse as if it were alive. It cannot compare to your Dao of the Sea of Blood, which forms its own world, refining all things for your own use."

He downplayed his situation as "haphazard patchwork," while once again praising Styx's "Dao," thus showing weakness (admitting it was a last resort) and maintaining distance (not discussing specific methods).

Styx seemed to let out a low chuckle, a short, dry sound, like two dry bones rubbing together.

"Haphazard patchwork that results in such a state is also a skill," he retracted his gaze from the ceiling and refocused on Taiyi's face, his crimson eyes bottomless. "However, does Your Majesty know that such 'patchwork' is ultimately a temporary measure? The conflict of powers, the essence remains unchanged, like trying to extinguish a fire by adding fuel. While it may be effective for now, in the long run, it may damage the foundation of your Dao."

Was this a well-intentioned reminder? Or a threat? Or perhaps... a prelude to what he was about to say?

Taiyi was silent for a moment, not denying it. "What Fellow Daoist says is not untrue. However, this Emperor has no other choice at the moment."

He frankly admitted his predicament and threw the question back—You're right, but I have no choice. Do you have one?

Styx seemed to be waiting for this.

The fingers of the hand resting on his cheek tapped lightly on his pale cheek, a movement with an inhuman elegance and coldness.

"Choices always exist," he said slowly, his voice lowered but clearer. "It depends on whether Your Majesty is willing to choose, and dares to choose."

Here it comes. The main point.

Taiyi's spirit lifted, but his posture became even more relaxed. He leaned back slightly (though there was nothing behind him), adopting a listening posture, his eyes showing an appropriate amount of inquiry and... a barely perceptible hint of doubt.

"Oh? I would be glad to hear it."

Styx did not answer immediately. The index finger of the hand resting on his knee hooked slightly.

"Swish..."

From the shadows on one side of the hall, two small clumps of viscous dark red liquid suddenly surged out of thin air. The liquid quickly took shape, solidified, and formed two simple seats, also made of dark red bone material. One appeared not far below Styx (at a slightly lower position), and the other appeared behind Taiyi.

"Your Majesty is injured, please sit and talk," Styx said casually, but he did not get up from his vine throne.

This was a subtle positioning of master and subordinate. A seat was offered, but the positions were unequal. It was both a courtesy and a silent declaration—who was the master here.

Taiyi's eyes grew cold, but he did not refuse. He stood up, walked to the bone chair, and sat down calmly. The chair was cold and hard, and his wound hurt a little from the pressure, but he sat as steady as a rock.

"Thank you," he said, his tone neither warm nor cold.

Styx didn't seem to care about his attitude. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he looked towards the palace doors, as if he could see through the thick bone walls to the boundless Sea of Blood outside.

"Does Your Majesty know that this Great Wilderness, though seemingly vast and teeming with life, is in reality... already completely ensnared by a great net?" Styx's voice grew distant, carrying a detached indifference born of worldly insight.

"A net?" Taiyi echoed the question cooperatively.

"The Heavenly Dao Net," Styx withdrew his gaze and looked at Taiyi, his crimson eyes seeming to churn with waves of blood. "Ever since Pangu cleaved the heavens, the pure qi rising and the turbid qi sinking, and the world was first established, this net has been woven. The Dragon-Phoenix Initial Calamity was the first knot; the Dao-Demon Conflict, the second; and now, with the Witch and Demon races standing opposed, the calamity qi grows thicker... the third knot is already upon us."

He paused, his tone deepening. "Beneath this net, all living beings are like insects, struggling and flailing. Though they seem to follow their own paths, their fates are already predetermined. When they flourish, when they perish, when they are the pieces, when they are the pawns... all is set."

This was an explanation of his view on the Great Wilderness's grand trajectory, and also a clarification of the essence of "Calamity" – the predetermined program of the Heavenly Dao.

Taiyi felt a chill in his heart, knowing the main event was about to begin. He appropriately showed a hint of solemnity on his face, but more so a sense of disdain. "Predetermined? Daoist friend, aren't you being too pessimistic? Our cultivation is about defying heaven and fighting for our lives. If everything is predetermined, why cultivate the Dao? Why fight for destiny?"

He had to display the reaction befitting Eastern Emperor Taiyi – proud, confident, unafraid of fate.

"Defying heaven and fighting for our lives?" Styx's lips seemed to curve into an almost imperceptible arc, a mixture of mockery and melancholy. "Easier said than done. Has Your Majesty not seen clearly from your recent experience? Your visit to Pangu Hall, though it seemed to be your initiative, who knows if it wasn't a 'calamity point' already marked for you by that net? Even someone as powerful as Your Majesty, bearing the Chaos Bell, has ended up in such a state, needing to hide in this filthy place to merely survive?"

The words were sharp, directly addressing Taiyi's current predicament and striking at his "defiance of fate" confidence.

Taiyi's expression darkened slightly, a flicker of stung anger flashing in his eyes (an act, of course), but he quickly suppressed it, turning it into a cold snort. "Just bad luck, a minor setback. If that Xuan Ming girl hadn't relied on her terrain advantage, this Emperor wouldn't be in this situation!"

He skillfully attributed his failure to "luck" and "terrain," preserving his dignity and avoiding a direct rebuttal of "predetermination."

Styx glanced at him, not dwelling on the issue, and changed the subject again.

"Why does Your Majesty think this Old Ancestor founded the Asura race and carved out a separate realm in this Sea of Blood?"

Taiyi pondered for a moment. "Naturally, it is the path of your Great Dao, seeking to stop killing with killing, to refine purity with impurity, forging a path distinct from the Xuanmen and the Witch and Demon races... a path of transcendence?"

"Transcendence?" Styx slowly shook his head, a cold glint flashing in his crimson eyes. "Talk of transcendence. It's merely... not wanting to be a worm in the net, wanting to find a sliver of a gap on the edge of the net, somewhere where one can barely breathe autonomously."

He leaned forward slightly, the invisible pressure suddenly intensifying, his voice lowering, carrying a seductive tone.

"Your Majesty, this third knot – the Witch-Demon Calamity – has now begun. Your Demon Race and the Witch Race are destined to clash, to fight to the death. This is the predetermined fate of the Heavenly Dao, the inevitable trend, unchangeable."

"However, within predetermination, there are also variables. The calamity qi churns, and the heavenly secrets are chaotic. This is precisely when that net is most unstable! And it is also the best time for us... to seek that sliver of a chance for true autonomy!"

The dagger was revealed!

Taiyi's heart leaped, but he maintained his composure, even showing a hint of cautious suspicion. "Daoist friend means to say..."

"An alliance," Styx uttered the two words, crystal clear. "Not a mere exchange of benefits, but within this Calamity, to be variables for each other, to jointly seek that sliver of a chance to transcend predetermination!"

He stared into Taiyi's eyes, enunciating each word. "My Sea of Blood can provide Your Majesty with shelter, help Your Majesty recover from your injuries, and even... offer methods to comprehend and regulate the conflicts within your powers. If necessary, I can also tie down some of the Witch Race's forces for Your Majesty, or provide certain... means that the Witch Race is not adept at handling."

The conditions were tempting. Shelter, healing, guidance on power regulation, and even military assistance.

"And the price?" Taiyi asked directly. He didn't believe in free lunches.

On Styx's pale face, the faint smile deepened, and the greed and calculation in his crimson eyes were no longer concealed.

"First, during the Calamity, Your Majesty must advance and retreat with my Sea of Blood. At certain crucial junctures, we will act according to our agreement, supporting each other, and jointly resisting the pressure from that net." He emphasized "that net," not any specific enemy.

"Second," he paused, his voice slowing, yet carrying an irrefutable tone, "Your Majesty must inform this Old Ancestor... of the whereabouts of the Primordial Violet Qi, or if Your Majesty already has clues, you must share them with this Old Ancestor."

Primordial Violet Qi!

The foundation for sainthood!

Taiyi's heart trembled violently! He hadn't expected Styx to set his sights on this! Of course, Styx was powerful, but he lacked a Saint position and was far from the pinnacle of the Great Dao. His desire for the Primordial Violet Qi was likely etched into his very bones!

Where would he know the whereabouts of the Primordial Violet Qi? Hong Yun's portion? It was still floating around somewhere. His own portion (if Eastern Emperor Taiyi had one in the Heavenly Dao's script) was nowhere to be found.

But he couldn't show weakness now.

Taiyi's face displayed a perfectly timed expression of extreme shock, which then turned into vigilance and anger. He abruptly raised his head, his gaze sharp as a blade, piercing Styx. "Styx! What do you mean by that? The Primordial Violet Qi is bestowed by the Heavenly Dao, the proof of a Saint position. Can you pry into its whereabouts? If this Emperor had any clues, why would I tell you?!"

His reaction needed to be intense, fitting Eastern Emperor Taiyi's expected attitude towards such "coveting of the foundation of sainthood."

Styx seemed to have anticipated his intense reaction and did not get angry. The light in his crimson eyes merely deepened. "Why should Your Majesty be angry? While the Saint position is noble, it is also the most stable node of that net. To obtain it is an opportunity, but also a restraint. What this Old Ancestor seeks is not necessarily the Violet Qi itself, but the... sliver of possibility to break free from the net that it represents. Your Majesty bears great karma, great destiny, and furthermore... acts without regard for convention, perhaps precisely being that variable. The clue to the Violet Qi is merely a token of sincerity for our cooperation, a cornerstone of... mutual trust."

He rephrased it, packaging the demand for the Primordial Violet Qi clue as "cooperation sincerity" and a "cornerstone of trust," while also implying that Saints were nodes of the Heavenly Dao Net, attempting to lessen Taiyi's resistance.

The anger on Taiyi's face slowly subsided, but his gaze remained cold and scrutinizing. "Daoist friend, you've certainly calculated well. Shelter, healing, in exchange for this Emperor being tied to you during the Calamity, and on top of that, offering clues to the Primordial Violet Qi which may not even exist... This deal, by all accounts, is a loss for this Emperor."

He began to bargain, pointing out the "may not even exist" to leave himself an out should he not know the clue.

"A loss?" Styx slightly shook his head. "Your Majesty, in your current situation, do you have any better options? Staying in the Sea of Blood at least offers a chance for recovery and time for planning. If you leave the Sea of Blood, facing the enraged Witch Race and that invisible great net, what confidence do you have of surviving until the end of the Calamity? Not to mention... seeking transcendence?"

He pointed out Taiyi's greatest vulnerability – having no other choice. At the same time, he dangled the bait of "transcendence" once more.

Silence fell upon the great hall. Only the sweet, cloying fragrance and the faint blood-red light flowed.

Taiyi's expression shifted, sometimes gloomy, sometimes struggling, sometimes showing defiant unwillingness. He was acting, portraying an Eastern Emperor Taiyi undergoing intense internal struggle and weighing the pros and cons.

After a long while, he let out a long breath of turbid air that carried a hint of blood, and the sharpness and anger in his eyes slowly gave way to a deep weariness and the helplessness of reality (also acting, of course).

"An alliance... can be," he said slowly, his voice hoarse. "But we must establish three conditions."

"First, we advance and retreat together, but it must be on the premise of not harming the fundamental interests of my Demon Race. Specific actions will be decided through mutual discussion; you may not act on my behalf without authorization."

"Second, the Sea of Blood must provide a safe environment for healing, and... the insights you mentioned earlier regarding the regulation of conflicting powers, but my Dao is ultimately my own to walk, and you shall not interfere forcefully."

"Third," he stared at Styx, enunciating each word, "This Emperor has no definite clue regarding the Primordial Violet Qi. This is the truth. However, if by chance in the future, I discover something... I can inform Daoist friend, but how it is handled will be discussed separately. And this matter must absolutely not be known to a third party!"

He gave an ambiguous reply: "Not now, but perhaps in the future. If I do, I'll let you know, but how we'll divide it remains to be seen." This satisfied some of Styx's demands, leaving room for cooperation, without making any unfulfillable promises, while also emphasizing secrecy.

Styx's crimson eyes gazed deeply at him, as if judging the truth of his words.

A moment later, he slowly leaned back onto the vine throne, his pale face betraying no emotion.

"Fine," he uttered a single word.

"Since that is the case..." Styx raised his hand, his fingertip tracing a pattern in the air.

A strange pattern, dark red bordering on black, formed from countless twisted, tiny runes, appeared out of thin air, hovering in the space between them. The pattern exuded a strong scent of blood and an ancient contractual power.

"Let this 'Blood Origin Contract' serve as proof of our temporary alliance. It will be effective during this Calamity, and we shall discuss its terms again after the Calamity, depending on the circumstances. Your Majesty, please imprint a trace of your Origin energy into it."

The Blood Origin Contract, a pact drawn with the Origin of the Sea of Blood and the energies of both parties, possessed immense binding power. However, for someone like Styx, who controlled the Origin of the Sea of Blood, it clearly left more room for maneuver.

Taiyi looked at the dark red pattern, knowing this was another test and restraint. But he did not hesitate. He raised his right hand, forcing out a trace of Origin energy from his fingertip, a faint wisp mixed with True Sun Fire and chaotic energies, and gently touched the pattern.

The moment the energy merged, the pattern flashed brightly before vanishing into the void. Only a faint, cold connection remained in the minds of Taiyi and Styx.

The temporary alliance was formed.

"The contract is set," Styx's voice returned to its previous calm. "Your Majesty may rest in the side chamber of this hall. Anything you require will be delivered by a Blood Slave later."

He waved his hand, signaling the end of their conversation.

Taiyi rose, gave a slight nod, and said no more. He turned and walked towards a shadowed entrance on the side of the hall, which Styx had indicated earlier.

Styx remained seated on the vine throne, motionless, until Taiyi's figure disappeared into the entrance of the side chamber.

Within his crimson eyes, waves of blood surged, reflecting a dim, bloody light.

After a long while, a barely audible murmur drifted through the empty, silent hall:

"No definite clues... Heh, interesting. Carrying the aura of the Father God's Hall, acting against common sense, entangled with Calamity energy yet showing signs of transcendence... Primordial Violet Qi, do you truly... know nothing?"

"Never mind. With this contract as proof, within this Calamity, you are my Sea of Blood's variable. Let's see how much of a storm you, 'Chaos,' can stir up..."

The shadows writhed, slowly swallowing his figure.

The hall returned to its silent stillness.

Inside the side chamber, Taiyi leaned against the cold bone walls. All the feigned exhaustion, struggle, and helplessness on his face vanished, leaving only a cold composure.

He opened his right hand, looking at the almost imperceptible dark red mark left by the contract on his fingertip.

"Blood Origin Contract... Styx..." he murmured, his eyes deep.

"An alliance with ulterior motives, is it... Very well."

"This Sea of Blood, perhaps it can truly allow me to... 'recover' properly."

He closed his eyes and began to carefully sense the environment of the side chamber, as well as the subtle, new changes occurring within his body's several energies in this core region of the Sea of Blood.