The silence that followed Feng Mo's return was heavier than any sword.
He walked through the sect gates alone, the ground beneath him whispering with each step. Not because of fear… but because it remembered him now.
Disciples parted like water before a blade, their eyes wide with disbelief. Some bowed their heads to avoid his gaze, others trembled as his aura pressed on their hearts.
No one dared speak.
The Feng Mo they knew—a servant, an orphan, the sect's punchbag—was gone.
What returned… was something far older. Something unchained.
Inside his assigned shack in the outer disciple quarters, Feng Mo sat cross-legged on a cracked floor, the air thick with silence. The cracked jade lantern on the table flickered faintly, unable to push away the unnatural chill that had begun to surround him.
The shattered pieces of his amulet lay beside him—dust now, yet still humming faintly.
He held his palm up.
Blood Devourer's Pulse.
A crimson light danced across his skin, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. The newly awakened technique flowed like instinct—hungry, efficient, devastating. He could feel it licking at his bones, craving more blood, more energy.
Mortal Bone Tempered.
Awakening Progress: 1.3%
"That tomb..." he muttered, eyes glowing faintly, "was only the beginning."
Suddenly, a jolt of heat surged through his chest. His hand flew to his ribs—where blood runes had seared into his flesh. They weren't tattoos. They were living sigils, etched into his very marrow.
A second voice echoed through his mind—calm, ancient, and cold.
> "Bearer of the Eternal Bloodline. Your first vein has been unlocked. Nine remain."
Feng Mo's breath hitched. "What… are you?"
> "I am the caretaker of the Soul Tomb. My name no longer matters. What matters… is your ascension. You must master all Nine Veins of Blood to claim the Eternal Throne."
> "And your time is short."
Meanwhile, within the Azure Flame Sect's Inner Hall, panic brewed.
The elders gathered around an ancient formation crystal, its surface rippling with Feng Mo's crimson resurrection at the ravine. His final strike—the Heart Shatter Pulse—had left Lin Zhen critically wounded, his dantian fractured.
"This is impossible," Elder Hai muttered. "That boy had no spirit root, no family records, no known bloodline!"
Elder Yun frowned, stroking his silver beard. "What if… it was hidden? What if the old bloodlines we sealed away are reawakening?"
Silence.
Only one spoke: the Head Elder, Zhao Wuqing, his eyes sharp and sunken. "I remember that amulet. His father—Feng Tian—was once our greatest prodigy… until he vanished after violating the Bloodline Pact."
Another elder snapped, "You mean he didn't vanish. He escaped execution."
Zhao Wuqing's eyes narrowed.
"Begin surveillance on Feng Mo. No confrontations. Not yet."
"But if he unlocks more veins—"
"Then we may face a disaster far worse than his father."
---
Back in the shack, Feng Mo opened his eyes. His body felt alien. Stronger. Faster. More alive—yet something darker moved beneath the surface. He could hear heartbeats from insects crawling beneath the wood. Smell the fear of a rat two rooms away.
His senses had changed.
But more than that—his mind had too.
Where once he wanted to survive… now, he wanted dominion.
> "Nine veins… Nine steps to immortality."
The runes on his chest pulsed.
> Initiate Tomb Echo: Trial One—Blood Memory.
Without warning, the world around him turned to mist.
He was no longer in the shack.
He stood in an open valley lit by blood-red moons. Across from him stood a man in silver-black armor—tall, expressionless, wielding a sword carved from bone and flame.
> "You are the first bearer in a thousand years," the warrior said. "Prove yourself, or be devoured."
Feng Mo raised his hands, calling on the Blood Devourer's Pulse. But it wasn't enough. The warrior moved faster than anything he'd ever seen.
Blades clashed. Bones cracked. Pain lanced through his side.
He coughed blood—and smiled.
Because the pain woke something deeper.
He roared, his eyes turning brighter, the blood runes across his chest expanding. The very air began to quake. The Pulse Technique surged—louder, stronger, more hungry.
> Second Form – Pulse Flare.
He struck.
The warrior staggered, blood spraying from a gash across his chest.
> "Good," the projection said, vanishing like smoke. "You may yet survive the next trial."
Feng Mo woke with a gasp.
His body was soaked in sweat, but his cultivation had jumped.
> Mortal Bone Stage – 5.7% awakened.
Skill Acquired: Pulse Flare (2nd Form of Blood Devourer).
Outside, a disciple was peeking through the window—eyes wide.
Feng Mo stood and walked to the door.
"Tell your little spy master," he said of, "next time they want to watch me cultivate, they better prepare to lose an eye."
The disciple bolted.
Feng Mo didn't smile.
He simply looked at the palm of his hand.
Blood pulsed there like lightning.