AUTHOR'S NOTE: Order in the library and a surprise is on the way! 🐉
Greetings to all members and allies of the Morningstar Clan!
I owe you all a sincere apology for the mess in the recent chapters. Between power outages in the early morning, the rush of being out and about, and the urgency to keep up with you, my files got mixed up, the chapter numbers got jumbled, and to top it all off, the text formatting got stuck together. A disaster worthy of a failed cultivation attempt! 😅
I have sat down to review everything calmly, fix the formatting, and put the numbers in their proper place (chapters 201 and 202 are now as they should be). Thank you for your patience while my "cultivation system" stabilized.
But pay attention!
To make up for the chaos of these past few days, I have some news: today's third chapter comes with a special surprise. I can't give anything away, but get ready, because the plot is about to take a turn that you are going to love.
Thank you for continuing to support the story and for your understanding as always! I hope you enjoy today's reading immensely. See you in the comments! ☕🔥
— Void_Scribe
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CHAPTER 201: The Inventory of Death and the Awakening of the Void God
The most feared fortress in the area had fallen, and the Morningstar Clan was only just warming up.
After Lilith sent the cleanup vanguard—Elara, Dante, Varian, Vorian, Nylas, Magnus, Lyra, Voltar, Darius, Tamsin, Draven, and Ciro—to scavenge every last blade of grass from the smoking ruins of the canyon, she turned to Sienna.
"We are going to have to camp on this dead rock for a while," Lilith sighed, crossing her arms. "The suicidal idiots in the other group used up every last drop of their Qi and vital essence. They won't wake up for a couple of days, and I don't plan on dragging them by the hair to the portal. The concealment and defense formations of the Herald are still active and have plenty of energy to spare. We'll stay until the groundhogs open their eyes."
Sienna, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle on her immaculate qipao, nodded slightly. It was the logical procedure. The loot, moreover, required exhaustive cataloging before being presented to the Patriarch.
Over the next few days, the sepulchral silence of the Iron Blood Bastion was only broken by the clinking of metals, the creaking of broken chests, and the hurried footsteps of the twelve active Sequences.
In the main hold of the Void Herald, the loot piled up into small mountains of other people's greed. The Sequences weren't just counting gold coins; they were cataloging the true treasures that had sustained the Alliance for centuries.
There were lead-lined chests containing dozens of Pure Volcanic Cores, hot stones that pulsed with thermal energy capable of melting common steel just by touching them. To the side, sealed in jade boxes, rested the reserves of spiritual herbs looted from the Purple Cloud Sect; an invaluable haul for Elowen's alchemical cauldron.
However, upon reviewing the fortress's library, the loot proved disappointing.
"Is this a joke?" Dante muttered, leafing through a half-burned scroll. "We've emptied the Butcher's main vault, and the highest-level martial technique is only High Heaven Grade. Not a single Saint Grade manual."
"They are mercenaries, Dante. Paranoid to the bone," Elara replied, coldly cataloging some swords. "They would never share their Saint Grade techniques or their core cultivation methods with anyone else, not even with their trusted Captains. If they die, their secrets die with them."
Magnus threw a heavy sack to the floor, making the metal inside clatter.
"Spiritual poverty, but material wealth. We found many treasures and artifacts. A few low, mid, and high Heaven Grade ones. The vast majority is Earth Grade trash or lower. And as for liquidity..."
Magnus kicked an immense trunk overflowing with light.
"...a few million low and mid-grade Spiritual Stones, and barely a few hundred thousand high-grade ones. For someone who dominated this side of the region, the Butcher was a miserable cheapskate."
But everyone in the room knew that gold and stones were secondary. The true supreme treasure of the looting didn't shine; it bled.
In Sienna's mirror dimension, heavily sealed and guarded, awaited the high-level prisoners. Vargas, turned into a drooling, will-less vegetable; Lord Volcanis, the Saint King chained in a state of impotent fury; the Twelve Iron Blood Captains and the surviving Elders of the Purple Cloud. They were no longer people; they were fresh material for the Silver Matriarch's twisted biological experiments, or at best, massive "Qi batteries" ready to be drained by the Clan's altars.
Ten days passed.
On the lower level of the Herald, the air was saturated with the scent of divine sap and medicinal ash. The recovery pools bubbled softly.
One by one, the shattered bodies began to emerge.
Kael, Iris, Cedric, Elowen, Aion, Aia, Cassius, Selene, Bren, Orion, Jareth, Tormund, and Borg, the heavy vanguard that had clashed against the steel. Eris, Violet, Xylia, Vania, Mira, Eira, Lys, Lia, Lirael, Aylin, Rowan, Joren, Eliam, Ignis, Goran, Korg, Sylas, and Ren, the shadows and assassins who had suffocated the intelligence and the bloodhounds.
They rose from the healing liquid. Their bodies harbored new scars, marks of a baptism by extreme fire. Kael's chest sported a faint network of silver lines where friction had almost disintegrated him; Aion's arms had slightly discolored scales after swallowing the annihilation of a Grand Saint. Some wounds weren't physical, but spiritual marks on their meridians that throbbed like reminders of pain.
But there were no complaints.
As they dressed in fresh Clan robes, harsh and genuine laughter began to fill the medical room. It was a moment of absolute brotherhood, forged on the anvil of death.
"I have to admit it, Kael," laughed Zane (who had been reluctantly healed by Elowen under Lilith's strict orders), "for a second, when I saw that black fire sword coming at me, I thought my soul was going to be erased from the karmic records."
"You were lucky my Qi ran out, old man," Kael joked, stretching his newly reconstructed arm, feeling the density of his power. "Next time I won't aim for the torso, I'll aim for the neck."
The forty-five Sequences gathered on the upper deck. The atmosphere was electric. They arrogantly compared who had butchered more enemies, discussed failed tactics, and, above all, silently assimilated the monstrous growth of their cultivation bases after surviving and pushing past their own biological limits.
They were ready to go home.
But the Morningstars never left useful traces.
Cedric and Iris stood at the bow of the ship, synchronizing their runic monocles. With an elegant movement of their gloved hands, they wove the [Void Quarantine Array].
An immense and impenetrable dome of dark energy engulfed the crater and the ruins. It was an absolute seal on space and time, designed to prevent any escape or message transmission; Samael's signature when he ordered an annihilation without witnesses.
With the array in place, Cedric activated the collapse sequence.
The Void Herald glowed, activating the Portal Key, and vanished from the canyon in an instant. A second later, the array detonated. The immense explosion shook the Igneous Fault Bastion to its foundations, sending seismic waves that would alert all powers for thousands of kilometers around, announcing that an empire had been wiped off the map.
Time is relative for immortals. Outside, on the continent, barely twenty days had passed. But inside the Eternal Dawn Mini-World, in the sanctuary of seclusion, exactly one month had gone by.
In the heart of the Primordial Heritage Palace, Samael floated in the air with his legs crossed. His breathing was so slow it seemed nonexistent.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes.
A burst of crimson violet illuminated the dark palace hall. The pressure he released didn't break the stone; it broke the very concept of distance.
Samael smiled. It had all been thanks to the tiny sip of Enlightenment Tea he had taken weeks ago. That little conceptual push had been the key. Who would have thought; he always believed his first domain would be Blood, given his tyrannical bloodline, but the Void had claimed the throne first.
A translucent System screen flashed before his eyes, bathing his face in a cold light.
[Congratulations, Host! You have successfully comprehended and awakened a Supreme Law Domain.]
[Domain: "Void Dragon Domain"]
Requirement: Grand Saint / Saint King Level and possession of the Primordial Dragon Bloodline.
Description: An absolute projection of the Host's will upon reality. You become the God of Space and Nothingness. A dragon of crimson shadows and absolute darkness coils around the battlefield, delimiting a sovereign territory.
Domain Functions:
Authority of the Throne of Nothingness (Absolute Suppression):
All laws that are not of the Host's elements (Space, Void, Blood, Sword) are suppressed by 60%. Enemies feel their elemental techniques (fire, lightning, etc.) "shut off" upon manifesting. The Void devours the essence of others' creation.
Refraction of Existence (Omnipresence): The Host does not need to move physically. He exists in every centimeter of space within the domain simultaneously. He can launch a sword slash from the center and have it instantly manifest at the back of any enemy's neck within range, without traveling through the air. World Devourer (Disintegration Effect): The air itself becomes corrosive. The "breath" of the Void Dragon wears down armor, treasures, and skin at the cellular level. For every second an enemy remains inside, their cultivation is "drained" to feed the Host. The enemy withers; you grow stronger.
System Note:"The Void Heart Sutra is the root, and the Void Dragon Domain is the fruit. When both are unified, the Patriarch does not just fight in the world; he becomes the world, and his enemies are nothing more than dust in his immensity."
The space around Samael constantly rippled and shattered under the oppression of his new aura of absolute nothingness.
After closing the status window, another golden notification, which had been blinking without him checking it, popped open.
[Clan Quest Completed!]
Objective: Destruction of the Iron Blood Alliance and the Purple Cloud Sect.
Rating: SSS (Total extermination, all Semi-Saints and Saints captured).
Status: COMPLETED.
Rewards:
x1 Supreme Roulette Ticket. x3 Domain Awakening Ticket (Choice).
Samael raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. Those rewards were obscene.
"System," Samael spoke aloud to the void. "Can this Domain Ticket be used by someone other than me?"
[Affirmative, Host. However, strict supervision is required. The recipient must possess a physical body resilient enough to withstand the Forced Awakening of a Law, otherwise, their soul and body will explode under the weight of the concept.]
Samael nodded slowly, a calculating smile appearing on his lips. He already knew exactly who he would give them to.
He closed the holographic window. He felt a familiar disturbance in the spatial network of the mini-world. The Portal Keys had activated. Sienna had already telepathically notified him that the bloodstained legion was on its way.
Hours before the ship's arrival, Samael had left the cold palace to seek the warmth of what truly mattered.
He walked toward the sprawling gardens of the Main Palace, coming upon a scene that melted the ice of his Void aura.
Celeste, his little daughter, and Seraphina were playing. Seraphina conjured delicate figures and animals of blue ice, and Celeste... Celeste, who had been born with a terrifying and perfect synchrony with the Void without even comprehending her power, innocently threw small "balls of nothingness" that disintegrated her mother's ice sculptures.
Kala, the young dragoness with a slender feline anatomy, leaped happily around the two. Her black crystal claws didn't even touch the grass; she floated millimeters above the ground with the grace of a panther, trying to catch the ice butterflies before Celeste erased them from existence. The tiny stars trapped inside her obsidian scales flashed with every playful twirl, and her long ethereal whiskers danced, defying gravity. A few meters away, Valka, the colossal serpentine dragon, lay placidly under the immense protective shadow of the Stellar World Tree. Her thick Jade Iron and Void Diamond scales looked like shining dunes at rest, while her large crystal fins vibrated with a lazy slowness. With her imposing crown of obsidian horns resting on the earth, she watched the family with wise eyes, emitting a deep purr that made the garden gently vibrate. Samael leaned against a jade pillar, crossing his arms, and smiled gently. It was a smile so pure and devoid of darkness that it caught Seraphina by surprise. The Ice Queen blushed slightly, engraving that mental image of her fierce husband deep within her heart.
Celeste, noticing her father's presence, let out a crystalline laugh. She took a leap that defied the gravity of a mortal child and fell directly into Samael's arms. She began to frantically kiss the feared Patriarch's cheeks, and Samael returned the kisses by tickling her, drawing out bursts of laughter that echoed in the garden.
"Look, Daddy! I made Mommy's ice go 'poof'!" Celeste exclaimed proudly, showing her tiny palms from which a minuscule trace of devouring darkness still emanated.
Samael was surprised, but not too much. Considering his daughter possessed the Fate-Breaking Black Destiny and an unmatched affinity with the Void, it was natural. Although no one mentioned it out loud, Samael and Seraphina knew the truth: Celeste had been born with a cultivation base in the Qi Sea Realm. Her power was there, dormant, waiting for the moment to break its biological shackles.
But Samael hugged her tighter, his gaze turning fierce and protective.
Not yet, Samael thought. We want you to have a real childhood. Far from cultivation, far from death and blood. We will carry this weight on our shoulders, at least until you are eight or ten years old. You should only worry about playing and laughing. We will bear the weight of the world. I will steer this giant ship, and I swear to you that not even the entire Heavens will stop me.
Samael's aura fluctuated violently for a millisecond, mixing the dark crimson tones of his bloodline with the devouring violets of his Void, a silent declaration of war against anyone who tried to snatch that peace from him.
At that very moment, in a place that existed on no physical or spiritual map, an impossible event was taking place.
Within the inscrutable depths of Samael's soul, in a place hidden so tightly that not even the Patriarch himself or the all-powerful System knew of its existence, a surreal scene materialized.
A small, slender figure floated in the void. She had long, pure, shining white hair. Intricate white horns formed a majestic crown upon her head, and from her back unfurled enormous wings of blinding purity. Her face was completely blurred, incomprehensible, and her entire body was semi-transparent, as if she did not exist in the current timeline, yet at the same time, she radiated a suffocating presence.
"That's right, Husband..." whispered the winged figure, her voice sounding like a thousand crystal bells. "Neither Heaven, nor damn Fate, nor anyone will stop us. Not now, not ever again. I won't allow them to interfere with your dice again. I will take care of them. I will buy you the time you need. Keep getting stronger... I'll be waiting for you there... where the records do not exist."
The hidden mental space began to tremble violently under the weight of the aura and the devastating intensity of the white figure's emotions.
"Hah... calm down. You don't want to damage our husband's soul from the inside, do you?" a second voice spoke.
This other figure had no defined shape; it was a completely blurred, distorted silhouette, as if its mere existence was a violation of universal laws, something outright forbidden by the Heavens.
The white-haired woman took a deep breath, clenching her ghostly fists, and managed to stabilize the soul space.
"How are you doing with that?" the woman in white asked, recovering her icy tone.
"Making the final little tweaks and finishing updating his 'toy,'" the blurred figure replied in a malicious and playful tone. "Soon, our dear husband will get a big surprise. And done. Alright, little one, do a good job. Help strengthen him from your side of the board, but don't let him know secrets about you, or us, or anything about this conversation. Don't force me to erase you from existence, understood?"
There was someone else in that infinite nothingness. Floating near the blurred figure was a very tiny silhouette. It looked like a mix between a small dragon and a fairy, with deep violet horns and wings. The small creature, trembling under the aura of the two women, nodded frantically, as if saying: "Yes, ma'am! At your absolute command!"
"Good," declared the voice of the forbidden figure. "With this done, let's go back. The other side is getting... tense."
The blurred figure murmured a few last words in a language that belonged to no living or dead race in the current universe, absolutely unintelligible words that warped the fabric of the soul for a second.
And then, the three figures simply disappeared, leaving not a single trace in Samael's soul.
Returning to the garden, Samael, who was still hugging Celeste and smiling at Seraphina, blinked in surprise when an urgent red System screen popped up in front of him, blocking his vision.
[SYSTEM ALERT!]
[A New Update Available]
Wait time for update: [???]
Requirements to update: Grade Mission: [???]
Time to complete: [???]
Samael stared at the screen with a completely stunned expression.
Since he had obtained this supposed "System," he knew nothing real about it. Not why it had chosen him, nor where it came from, nor who had created it. Every time he asked, he received the same robotic answer: "Administrator level too low. Increase your level if you wish to obtain answers." But when he asked how the hell to increase his administrator level, the System plunged into absolute silence.
And now, this? An update full of question marks?
Samael narrowed his eyes, dispersing the screen with a thought.
I know that someday I will get my answers, Samael thought, stroking Celeste's hair. For now, this tool benefits me. It makes me stronger and allows me to protect my family and my Clan. But I don't care who or what is behind this screen. If the gods or the owners of the universe try to use me as a pawn on their board... they better be prepared to be devoured by me.
An immense dragon shadow with violet eyes faintly appeared behind him, projecting onto the garden grass.
Hours later, the Main Palace had left the family peace behind.
Samael sat on the high and majestic Throne Chair. Beside him, on a slightly smaller but equally imposing throne, sat Seraphina, radiating an icy majesty. (Celeste was sleeping soundly in her chambers, exhausted after hours of playing at erasing ice butterflies from existence).
The immense black iron doors of the throne room swung wide open with a crash.
Making their armored boots and heels echo on the polished marble, the Sequences entered, escorted by Lilith and Sienna. Vexia was not with them; the Grand Marshal was already in the outer ring of the mini-world, organizing the thousands of newly arrived prisoners into the personal hell of Sienna's mirror dimension.
The group advanced to the center of the room and stopped, performing a perfect and synchronized bow.
Samael opened his eyes.
The pure, suffocating power of his Saint King cultivation filled the room. His crimson violet dragon eyes shone in the gloom, and the gigantic shadow of the Primordial Dragon rose behind his throne, enveloping the hall in an aura of absolute dominance.
Samael observed the bloodstained youths and his aunts, and a predatory, proud, and chilling smile formed on his face.
"Welcome back home," Samael's voice echoed, deep and unquestionable. "I hope you immensely enjoyed your hunt and your little treasure hunt."
Samael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Rest while you can, and prepare yourselves. From now on, you have much more to do, and oceans of tasks and massacres to complete. But... the first thing will be to properly reward you. And see exactly what kind of treasures you have brought me today."
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Note from Void_Scribe: 🐉
(Are you enjoying the story? Then don't forget to add it to your library and leave your votes to support the book! Every show of support counts immensely and motivates me to keep writing. See you in the next chapter! And if you want to directly support this humble author, swing by my ko-fi.com/void_scribe for a little coffee... wink, wink hehehe ☕. Thanks for reading!)