The crimson lines writhed across the Blood Shield’s surface, weaving a grotesque, intricate embryonic world teeming with boundless malice and terror, twisting souls until one felt plunged into an abyss of infernal suffering.
Shi Yan gripped the shield, his spirit violently shaken, his eyes burning a scarlet so deep it looked ready to bleed.
Upon his soul altar, the central spirit fluctuated ceaselessly. The mark on the main soul’s forehead pulsed like a crimson star—blazingly bright—resonating faintly with the mark on the Blood Shield, vibrating with a heavy, rhythmic thrum, much like a colossal heart.
He felt a strange sensation...
It was as if he possessed a marvelous, demonic power to preside over the seven emotions and six desires of all living beings. Holding the Blood Shield felt like grasping the totality of sentient emotion; he could infinitely magnify the innate wickedness and lust lurking deep within any heart, instantly transforming a good, virtuous person into a fiend.
A profoundly peculiar feeling.
He looked at Belor, seeing not just the surface but the suppressed desires buried deep inside him—the resentment toward the Gods’ control, the struggle to break free and dictate his own fate...
He seemed to perceive every secret of Belor’s mind, seeing through him entirely. Belor’s hidden inner world was completely exposed.
The Blood Shield... acted as Belor’s inner demon, a spiritual blight, enveloping him in an invisible cage, fueling his inner desires and forcing him to self-torture. The more desires and secrets Belor harbored, the stronger the inner demon grew, clinging to his soul, ensuring he could never escape.
Shi Yan suddenly smiled.
In one hand, he held the Blood Shield; in the other, the Blood Sword. The shield and sword merged perfectly with him, like integral parts of his own flesh and blood, inseparable.
Through the Blood Shield, he could clearly sense the subtle shifts in Belor’s psyche, dissect his innermost desires, and even glimpse the entirety of his long life experience...
Belor’s life journey flashed before him like a sequence of projected images via the shield, rushing through his mind: the high-spirited pride of his youth, the high station he held in middle age, his later deference to the Gods and fraternal bonding with Slon, and all the choices made for the future of the Shadow Race—'..., Shi Yan saw through Belor’s entire life.
“Tragically pitiful,” he advanced step by step toward Belor, shaking his head with a sigh. “You are both tragic and pitiable. You constantly think only of your lineage, striving for the continuation and strength of your race. To ensure the survival of the Shadow Race, you cast aside your dignity and honor, deliberately cultivating ties with the God Slon, making your entire race mere lackeys to the Gods. You have lived entirely for your family, for your race, but when, truly, did you ever live for yourself? In this entire life... was there even a single fleeting moment of genuine happiness?”
Belor’s expression contorted into something monstrous, as if submerged in a chaotic realm of inner demons, roaring, “Did you think I wanted to?!”
Boom! Boom!
Belor’s divine body cracked like porcelain, spraying blood. His sinews snapped, causing the space around them to collapse, revealing a web of minute fissures.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Those spatial rents manifested a powerful suction force, causing massive trees, stones, and dust in the area to scream as they were violently yanked into the fissures.
The fierce suction grew stronger, making even Shi Yan’s divine body sway unsteadily, as if tethered by countless ropes being pulled toward the spatial gaps.
He knew those rents connected to Belor’s Origin World. Once dragged in, he might never escape in this lifetime, left to be molded and manipulated by Belor, unable to muster even a sliver of resistance.
“Our Shadow Race has always been weak. If we are to survive, we must align with the strong. The Gods are the overlords of the cosmos; what wrong did I commit as patriarch in choosing a powerful patron? My choice was not wrong, never wrong! I brought rebirth to the Shadow Race, granting us numerous Stars of Life! I did nothing wrong!”
Near the spatial tears, Belor roared towards the heavens, venting his bitter resentment against fate. “We Shadow Race are not one of the Four Great Beings! I could only do so much! But now it is different. If I kill you, and I obtain the Primordial Fruit, I can bring a brand new world to the Shadow Race!”
Tear!
Belor grinned hideously, ripping open his chest. Veins and sinews snapped like lute strings!
Clang! Clang!
It sounded as if he struck the very essence of space—causing vast swathes of the void to shatter. The Demon Dragon Star instantly shook violently; mountains crumbled, and entire oceans vanished.
“What is Belor doing?!”
“That region is experiencing heaven-and-earth collapse! Belor must be responsible; he’s fighting Shi Yan!”
“He hasn’t sent a signal!”
“Could there have been an accident?”
In every corner of the Demon Dragon Star, the God Race members looked grave, frowning as they stared toward a specific direction. Slon’s eyes were icy cold. After a long silence, he abruptly turned to Keda. “Do you know what Belor intends to do?”
Keda’s heart tightened. He bowed his head respectfully. “He is likely attempting to kill that Undying Demon youth. That youth... also cultivates Spatial Profundity. He must have sealed the space, or caused it to shatter. Under such conditions, anyone entering would face immense danger. Since none of us cultivate that specific Profundity, he probably thought it would only harm us, and thus... didn't inform us.”
The face beneath his lowered head was etched with shock and anxiety. He knew Slon’s suspicious nature. If Slon developed any ill feelings toward the Shadow Race, it would spell disaster for their entire people.
After all, the Shadow Race were vassals of the Gods, their existence dependent on the Gods’ favor.
“If you are uneasy, I can go over there myself. How about that?” Keda looked up, his expression earnest, his eyes placid and gentle.
Slon stared at him deeply for a few moments, then nodded with satisfaction, offering a faint smile and waving a hand. “No need. I trust Belor. I know he will not disappoint me.”
With his statement, the God Race members who harbored reservations fell silent, ceasing their questioning of Belor.
Keda secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The void snapped apart like segments of bamboo. Belor was situated exactly where the fissures intersected; his divine sense and soul were untraceable.
Shi Yan looked at Belor, seeing him as if he were a wisp of air, leaving no trace.
This was due to the shattering of the spatial nodes and Belor’s extraordinarily specific location. This offered a massive advantage: he could not lock onto Belor for an attack at all.
Consequently, the Blood Shield’s imprisonment of Belor’s inner demon was instantly dissolved.
Belor regained his composure. He glanced at the Blood Shield with genuine apprehension and lingering fear, stating solemnly, “Truly worthy of being the ultimate treasure of the Blood-Thirst lineage; it is indeed wondrous and unfathomable. The rumors were not false. The treasures of the Blood-Thirst lineage each constitute a world unto itself, possessing myriad marvels. Seeing it today has truly won my respect.”
Suddenly, he grew exhilarated, chuckling darkly. “To think the ultimate treasure of the Blood-Thirst lineage will soon fall into my hands. Boy, are you ready to die?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Shi Yan grinned.
Holding the Blood Sword in one hand, he suddenly tapped the Blood Shield lightly with the hilt. The shield emitted a sharp, metallic clang—a soundwave like ten thousand armies clashing, like rivers boiling, vibrating deep into the soul.
Clang! Clang!
Peal after peal of metallic collision echoed, possessing an indescribable magic, seeming to hammer against the listeners’ hearts.
The connection between the Blood Shield and Belor was re-established.
In that instant, Shi Yan once again saw all of Belor’s experiences. He saw a secret that Belor had hidden in the deepest recess of his heart...
A faint, shadowy figure drifted before Belor within a sealed cavern, explaining something to him. This shadowy figure seemed capable of traversing the chaotic Sea of Void, swimming freely through the spatial fissures like a fish.
This, shockingly, was the deepest secret hidden within Belor’s soul.
That trace of a dark shadow seemed to be explaining the intricacies of Spatial Profundity to Belor—doing so in an incredibly arcane and profound manner...
This was Belor’s formative mentor, the one who introduced him to the mysterious temple of Spatial Profundity, imprinting the Profundity deep into Belor’s mind, influencing him for years and forging him into the patriarch of the Shadow Race.
This segment of memory was extremely obscure, seemingly ancient, as if even Belor himself was nearly forgetting it.
Yet, Shi Yan, through the Blood Shield, projected it out from the deepest recesses of Belor’s mind. The dark shadow was indistinct, but examining the area between its brows closely, there was a faint, blood-colored cloud mark. That person... was actually a certain inheritor of the Blood-Thirst lineage!
Clang!
The demonic sound ceased. Shi Yan jolted, looking at Belor with an utterly strange expression, and suddenly asked, “Who was your teacher?”
“Teacher?” Belor was clearly startled, then shook his head. “I have no teacher. The Profundities I grasp, all my achievements, are the result of my own efforts.”
He then let out a cold, sinister chuckle. “What? Realizing you’re about to die miserably at my hands, you’re starting to change the subject to stall for time?”
Shi Yan frowned deeply, then suddenly asked, “Did you ever fall unconscious once, or perhaps have a truly realistic dream? After waking, did you find your understanding of Spatial Profundity gradually increasing, then refining little by little, ever happen?”
He recalled Hassan’s experience.
Hassan, once timid and cowardly, had undergone a complete metamorphosis after falling unconscious and merging with the obsession of Profound Mountain, becoming a genius second only to Hassan himself among the God Race. Afterward, Hassan himself had no idea what had transpired.
“Do you, kid, perhaps also master Destiny Profundity?” Belor snorted impatiently. “Yes, back when I was training in the Shadow Race secret realm, I suffered a qi deviation and fell into a coma. I had a dream where a deity taught me to comprehend Spatial Profundity. When I woke up, I found my Profundities seamlessly integrated. It was that arduous cultivation session that truly solidified my direction, leading to my current status and success.”
Having spoken, Belor ceased the idle talk. He moved amidst the spatial fissures, his soul aura locking onto Shi Yan, pushing layer upon layer of space to try and bind him.
Shi Yan remained motionless, his expression turning incredibly bizarre. He stared blankly at Belor without making any move.
He finally believed Shang Chen’s words: the foundation of the Blood-Thirst lineage was unmatched!
That leader skilled in Soul Control had created countless avatars, leaving behind untold hidden measures for the Blood-Thirst lineage in secret. Clearly, this patriarch Belor was one of those contingencies.
If the Blood Shield hadn't reflected Belor’s entire life history and illuminated the deepest secret in his heart, Shi Yan would never have suspected that Belor was actually a disciple of that person.
Even Belor himself had dismissed it as a mere dream, a secret deceiving even himself—no wonder the God Race felt no suspicion.
The sheer terror of that person’s methods sent a chill down his spine. Such vicious scheming and strategy earned his complete, awe-struck admiration.