Chapter Sixty-Five: Blood Sacrifice of the Imperial Capital

This battle was won thanks to Rou’er’s presence; otherwise, the Nine Nether Sacred Land would have surely been breached. Had that happened, its people would have been slaughtered, the family of the sect leader taken captive, and Song Miao and the others would have gone down in history as unforgivable sinners.

Grateful, Song Miao knelt on one knee before Rou’er and said, “Thank you, Senior, for saving the Nine Nether Sacred Land.”

Rou’er waved off his gratitude with indifference. “No need to thank me—thank Chen Mu. He was the one who asked me to lend a hand.”

Song Miao then cupped his fists and bowed deeply to Chen Mu, who had just leaped down from the back of the swift eagle beast. “Thank you, Young Master Chen, for your great assistance in saving our land from disaster.”

“It’s nothing,” Chen Mu replied, waving his hand. “Since I’ve joined the Nine Nether Sacred Land, it’s only right that I help. After all, I have ties to Sister Lin, to my foster father and mother—I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. So, what should we do next? Should we strike back?”

“No, we’re not strong enough at the moment,” Song Miao said, shaking his head. “We have to leave at least one Nascent Soul cultivator here to guard our home. Revenge can wait; our priority is to find a way to help the sect leader and his group escape from the imperial capital.”

Rou’er, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up, “The capital of the Bright Moon Empire? I have a bad feeling about this. I know you demonic cultivators have some unusual methods. If they’ve trapped the entire population inside the city rather than evacuating them, and the imperial family can really pull this off... then your sect leader is in grave danger.”

Song Miao heard the gravity in her words, but didn’t understand what the danger was. Humbly, he asked, “Forgive my ignorance, Senior, but what exactly do you mean?”

Rou’er’s expression turned grave. “A grand blood sacrifice formation... or something similar.”

At these words, the group fell silent as death. They were not unfamiliar with blood sacrifice rituals, but had only ever seen them used on individuals. The idea of a grand formation for blood sacrifice was utterly inhumane. Sacrificing dozens was already unimaginable—but the entire capital’s population? Could the imperial family of the Bright Moon Empire truly commit such an atrocity?

They were demonic cultivators who would do anything for power, but even they had a moral bottom line. Using one’s own citizens in a blood sacrifice was something the Nine Nether Sacred Land would never do.

“There are many possible results from a blood sacrifice,” Rou’er continued. “It might be used to wipe out enemies, to gain temporary power, or even to extend one’s life... If they’re using it now, it’s likely for the first two. If they succeed, Gongsun Qingyang and the others will be in mortal peril.”

A chill ran down everyone’s spine. If things truly were as Rou’er said, the situation was dire. Swallowing hard, Song Miao immediately organized a team to investigate the situation in the capital.

This time, the Nightshade Organization mobilized. Xu Changye and Chen Mu each led ten Nightshade members toward the capital, everyone pinning their hopes on Chen Mu and his guardian, the little fox Rou’er.

Their mission was not to fight, but to gather intelligence. Sending more people would be pointless, so each formed a squad of ten. As for how to break the barrier of the sealing formation, that would have to be figured out later.

Once preparations were complete, Xu Changye and Chen Mu set out with their teams for the imperial capital, riding hard and fast, hoping events would not unfold as Rou’er feared.

Above the capital of the Bright Moon Empire, eight Nascent Soul powerhouses were locked in a ferocious, chaotic battle.

Meanwhile, Gongsun Qingyang and his group were unaware that the imperial family’s ancestor had indeed set up a grand blood sacrifice formation, just as Rou’er suspected. It was being carried out by twelve Core Formation generals, performing the ritual in secret.

A blood sacrifice formation could not use Nascent Soul cultivators as offerings, so they targeted the city’s common folk. Once activated, the formation would use the flesh and blood of the populace to generate powerful baleful energy and resentment, which would then be merged into a force of blood demon power. Whoever consumed this force would temporarily reach the strength of the Primordial Spirit realm.

But this power was hollow; the soul could not leave the body or use soul arts. It would only match a Primordial Spirit cultivator in raw force—which was still more than enough to threaten Gongsun Qingyang and the others.

Three days passed, with the battle raging on above the imperial city, the sky darkening with its fury.

Xu Changye and Chen Mu’s squads arrived outside the city walls, only to find the entire capital sealed under a faint red barrier. They needed to find a way to break the formation, but it was already too late—they saw, to their horror, that Rou’er’s fears were coming true. The people inside were already being sacrificed.

Through the barrier, they could see many of the city’s citizens collapsing as their blood was drained, leaving desiccated corpses behind. Over the imperial palace, a massive blood sphere floated ominously.

Gongsun Qingyang and his companions had noticed this as well, but believed it to be a formation meant to restrain their movements by manipulating vital energy—they had no idea it was a grand blood sacrifice to empower one of the imperial ancestors.

Chen Mu struck the barrier with his fist, cursing, “Damn it! We’re too late, and now we can’t warn my foster father and the elders.”

Despair settled over the group; if the imperial family succeeded, Gongsun Qingyang and the others would have no hope of escape.

Chen Mu released Rou’er and asked, “Rou’er, is there any way to break this barrier?”

“It would take two or three hours to force it open,” Rou’er said uncertainly.

Chen Mu frowned. “That’s too long. Judging by that blood sphere, it’s nearly complete. If we can’t stop the imperial family soon, my foster father and the others will be in grave danger.”

“There is another way,” Rou’er offered. “I can teach both squads a crossing formation that requires twenty people working together. We’ll open a gap in the barrier. You and I will enter to destroy the formation’s core, while everyone else remains outside to maintain the formation in case something goes wrong.”

“Let’s do it,” Chen Mu agreed. “It’s risky, but there’s no other way.”

With that, Rou’er tapped the foreheads of the twenty Nightshade members, imparting the collaborative formation directly into their minds. Except for Chen Mu, everyone was shocked—how could such knowledge be transmitted by divine sense?

The twenty quickly set to work, and after about half an hour of practice and coordination, they activated the formation. The barrier split open just enough for one person to pass through—a modest success, but a success nonetheless.

After a few words of caution from Xu Changye, Chen Mu entered the sealed capital with Rou’er at his side.

Inside, Chen Mu could taste the faint tang of blood in the air, drifting toward the palace above.

The blood sacrifice was still underway. Gazing at the skeletal corpses littering the ground, Chen Mu couldn’t help recalling the massacre at Starwatching Valley in the Great Xia, murmuring to himself, “The imperial family of the Bright Moon Empire is just as monstrous.”

Rou’er scanned the terrain with her divine sense and located the core of the formation within the palace. They would have to enter to destroy it.

The one man and one fox soon drew the attention of the eight battling powers above. The imperial ancestor let out a cold chuckle. “So, a tiger and a little mouse have snuck in? The formation is intact, so how did they get inside? Are they after the palace? Looking to destroy the formation’s core? We can’t let them succeed!”

“But we can’t break away from the fight. What should we do?” another ancestor asked.

“There’s no choice but to speed things up. Send word to accelerate the blood sacrifice.”

Gongsun Qingyang and his comrades also noticed Chen Mu’s presence, puzzled by his sudden appearance. When he saw the little fox beside Chen Mu, a faint wariness flickered in his eyes. He wanted to ask about the state of the Nine Nether Sacred Land, but there was no time for distraction—the battle demanded his full attention.

Those conducting the blood sacrifice wiped sweat from their brows at the new orders. Accelerating the ritual was not so easily done—unless they burned their own life force. But with the command passed down and their families’ lives held hostage, refusal meant death for their entire clans. So, with grim resolve, they began to sacrifice their own lives to hasten the ritual.

The concentration of blood energy thickened throughout the sealed city. Rou’er muttered to herself, “Not good—they’re speeding up the sacrifice. We have to hurry.”

The palace was heavily guarded, the only place in the city unaffected by the formation. Chen Mu and Rou’er fought their way through, cutting down soldiers and officers alike, until at last they broke into the palace.

Down a winding corridor, soldiers charged at them, fearless in the face of death, but were swiftly dispatched by the one man and one fox. After twisting and turning through the halls, they reached an underground chamber where a massive formation pillar stood. Only two guards remained, but they were mere eunuchs, there only to supply energy to the formation core.

The two eunuchs were so terrified by Chen Mu’s arrival that their legs gave out beneath them. Chen Mu ignored them, examined the energy stones, and asked Rou’er, “What are these? The core is drawing energy from them?”

“They’re essence stones, containing the vital energies of heaven and earth. They must be rare in a backwater like this; it’s no wonder you haven’t seen them,” Rou’er replied without so much as a glance. “They’re useful to you—gather them up. Once we destroy the core and resolve this crisis, I’ll explain how to use them.”

Chen Mu collected the thousands of essence stones while Rou’er pressed her paw to the core, shattering it. The barrier dissolved with it.

But the blood sphere above the palace was now complete. The imperial ancestor let out a triumphant laugh. “So what if two interlopers sneaked in? The blood sacrifice is finished. Now, the final battle begins—and all of you will die here.”