Sacrifice

"The erased history, the lost Martial Dao civilization?" Chen Xu's interest was piqued. Just as he was about to hear more, the driver unexpectedly hung up.

Cursing the driver under his breath, Chen Xu became quite interested in the information the person on the other end had described.

If he got the chance, Chen Xu really wanted to "have a chat" with him.

His aura erupted, and the silver-patterned black-robed cultists were instantly knocked unconscious.

"Martial Artist!" The driver's final thought flashed through his mind before his consciousness sank into eternal silence.

Before the cultists below the vehicle could react, a figure darted out of the door like a gale, killing everyone present with a few punches and kicks.

Chen Xu had never shown mercy to enemies who wanted his life.

After placing the unconscious Nie Mengyin and Ling Youyou somewhere safe, Chen Xu draped himself in an identical silver-patterned black robe and strode into the cave at the foot of the mountain.

Following the cave's only path, Chen Xu went nearly five minutes without encountering a single cultist.

Had they all gone out to fetch people, only for him to slaughter them?

After walking another three or four minutes, Chen Xu spotted several similarly dressed men standing guard ahead.

"Halt. Without the High Priest's permission, outer cultists may not enter the inner cave." A cultist whose black robe was embroidered with golden patterns raised a hand to block Chen Xu's path.

Too lazy to waste words on them, Chen Xu directly used his aura to knock all five of them down.

He drew the cultists' short blades and finished them off one by one.

The number of ordinary people was utterly meaningless before a Martial Artist. Even without personally attacking, the [Form] they possessed could crush any existence below a Martial Artist.

Only those with exceptionally firm willpower could barely hold on for a moment or two.

The altar was covered in bloodstains, and the thick stench of blood filled the entire area.

A diamond-shaped crystal was embedded in the stone slab at the altar's center, fitting perfectly without the slightest gap.

"The legendary Holy Stone capable of preserving souls truly is incomparably magnificent."

Gently stroking it with his wrinkled, aged hand, the High Priest sighed from the bottom of his heart.

His wooden cane struck heavily against the ground, and the ornaments hanging from it collided with one another, clattering incessantly.

Every ornament was made from the skull of an infant less than a year old!

"Why haven't the new sacrifices been brought in yet?" The High Priest's tone carried dissatisfaction. He was already becoming impatient.

"This subordinate will send someone to hurry them along immediately." The cultist in the gold-patterned black robe replied respectfully. Though his status was higher than the High Priest's, he did not dare let his gaze fall above the old man's waist.

"Tell them to hurry." Leaning on his wooden cane, the High Priest slowly descended from the altar. "If the auspicious hour arrives and the sacrifices still have not come, then you will serve as today's sacrifices."

"Yes." The male believer withdrew. Before the High Priest, he did not dare act rashly.

The High Priest swept his gaze over the believers praying devoutly nearby, satisfaction appearing on his face.

Everything was prepared. Today would be the day he leaped over the dragon gate and defied fate to change his life.

What Martial Artists? What Bloodline Armament resonators? They were not even qualified to carry his shoes.

For this day, he had prepared for an entire lifetime.

Ever since he, then an ordinary young man, found the incomplete "Sacrificial Ritual" at the age of twenty-two, the course of his life had changed drastically.

If asked whether he regretted becoming what he was today, he could clearly answer that he did not regret it at all. Even if he had been given any other item in exchange, he would not regret it.

"High Priest, we can't contact anyone in the outer area. Could it be..." The subordinate's expression was ugly. He even suspected that the driver had been captured and had revealed everything.

Their cult did not have even a single Martial Artist. If they faced pursuit and encirclement by the Great Abyss Military Headquarters, whether they could continue to exist would be a problem.

"Don't panic." The High Priest rebuked him. "Take a few people and inspect the inner perimeter of the cave. Find out exactly what happened."

The subordinate reluctantly accepted the order, specifically choosing several large-built believers before leaving the altar area.

"Twenty minutes remain." The High Priest roughly estimated the time, his gaze drifting uncertainly over the dozens of cultists.

Every one of these fanatical believers had taken considerable effort for him to cultivate. Their strength was all above the fifth rank of Martial Artist, making them the backbone of the cult.

Normally, even losing one would pain him. Yet now, more than twenty might die at once. His mixed emotions were easy to imagine.

"For the great cause, what is the harm in making a few more sacrifices?" The High Priest quickly adjusted his state and waited for the auspicious hour of the ritual.

Time passed second by second, but the sacrifices that should have arrived never appeared.

"Now is the time to devote yourselves to the Holy Lord! Believers, ascend the altar! We are with the Holy Lord!" The High Priest raised his wooden cane high, dancing an Anomaly-like dance as he occasionally spat out one or two syllables.

At the same time, the sounds of prayer grew dozens of times louder. Rather than prayers, they sounded more like desperate roars.

Without a word, the believers in gold-patterned black robes stepped onto the altar. Centered around the stone slab, they knelt down one after another and began praying as well.

The contents of their prayers were obscure and difficult to understand, far removed from the official language of the Great Abyss.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but the color of the Holy Stone atop the slab seemed to grow increasingly deep and shadowy.

"The blood sacrifice begins!" The High Priest suddenly swung his wooden cane. More than a dozen dangling infant skulls collided, their jingling clatter spreading throughout the altar area.

"My blood unto the holy blood, my body unto the holy body, my soul unto the holy soul..."

After using the short blades they carried to cut wounds deep enough to reveal bone into their bodies, the cultists atop the altar allowed massive amounts of blood to drain away. Their faces visibly turned deathly pale.

Even so, they continued praying, as though they knew neither pain nor fear.

Blood dripped into the grooves of the altar and flowed toward the stone slab.

The High Priest stared fixedly at the slab. Their previous attempts had all failed at this step. Sometimes the two sides had not coordinated properly, causing one to be too fast and the other too slow; other times, there simply had not been enough blood.

The first two attempts had all been preparations for today's success.

The blood flowed along the grooves to the edge of the stone slab, and then an unimaginable scene appeared.

It flowed upward against the current along the slab's patterns and was absorbed by the Holy Stone at its center.

As it continuously absorbed blood, the pitch-black crystal gradually took on a trace of crimson, changing from its base upward.

If anyone outside the cave looked up at the sky, they would see that within a radius of a thousand meters, dark clouds had already gathered thickly, with low thunder rumbling every so often.

Less than two hundred kilometers away, vortex-shaped thunderclouds appeared in exactly the same fashion, as though foretelling something.

The devoutly praying believers did not notice at all that there was now one more person in a gold-patterned black robe.

Chen Xu mingled at the back of the praying crowd, silently watching the changes on the altar.

Once the crystal began drawing in blood and emitting an indescribable scent, his Psychic Energy, which had not stirred for a long time, began to increase slowly.

Though each increase was small, the frequency was high enough that it pulsed once every two or three seconds on average.

That was precisely why he had not suddenly begun killing.