"Destroying the central hub? Naive. Truly naive."
Duke Mordent let out a chilling huff of disdain. High above on his metallic perch, his withered, skeletal fingers pressed down against the empty air as if pinning an insect to a board.
In an instant, the very atmosphere within the Inverted Tower transformed. The air thickened into something resembling stagnant, heavy oil. The grey "Dead Zone" laws—Mordent's signature power—manifested as hundreds of ghastly, translucent chains that lunged from the darkness, shrieking as they sought to bind Gu Hanzhou's limbs. Simultaneously, the Flesh Golems crawling out of the shattered vats let out nauseating howls, surging forward like a tide of gore to seal off every possible path of escape.
Mid-air, Gu Hanzhou twisted his body with agonizing effort. [Black Order] carved a glittering arc of dark-gold light through the gloom, cleaving the first three golems into spray of necrotic meat. But he was losing momentum. A pair of grey chains caught his left ankle, the necrotic energy searing through his leather boots and biting into his flesh.
"Hanzhou... don't... worry about me..."
Inside the incubation tank, a single tear of blood leaked from the corner of Gu Qingshan's eye. He knew Mordent's cruelty better than anyone. This tower wasn't just a lab; it was a massive, vertical altar. If Gu Hanzhou's blood was spilled here, the Duke would use the ritual to forcefully fuse their bloodlines, creating that "Perfect Vessel"—a mindless puppet with the power of a King.
Gu Hanzhou let out a guttural snort, his teeth clenched so hard they threatened to shatter. The sheer physical strain caused beads of blood to erupt from his pores, staining his stolen uniform.
"I've spent ten years... looking for you!"
He let out a roar like a cornered apex predator. He ignored the golem claws tearing at his back; he ignored the suffocating pressure of the Dead Zone. Gathering every last spark of energy in his marrow, he pivoted in the air. As he slammed into the ground at the base of the tank, he didn't aim for the guards or the chains.
He drove [Black Order] straight into the heart of the purple-gold [SUBJECT ONE] chamber!
C-C-CRACK—!
The reinforced, high-pressure tempered glass didn't just break; it detonated.
The viscous, dark-gold fluid exploded outward, drenching Gu Hanzhou instantly. This wasn't mere nutrient broth. It was a concentrated solution of Gu Qingshan's distilled Royal Blood—three years of concentrated agony, unyielding will, and the violent, refined essence of the Ancient Court.
"Father! Lend me your hand!"
Gu Hanzhou lunged through the torrent of glass shards and golden liquid, reaching into the collapsing tank. His hand, calloused from a decade of survival, locked firmly onto Gu Qingshan's pale, needle-scarred palm.
In that heartbeat, time within the Inverted Tower simply stopped.
Two bloodlines, springing from the same ancient root—one weathered by a decade of hidden war, the other sharpened by the fires of a slave's vengeance—collided in a cross-generational resonance that defied the laws of the New Order.
BOOM—!!
An indescribable vortex of dark-gold energy erupted from the father and son, forming a pillar of light that pierced through the center of the tower.
Duke Mordent's proud "Dead Zone" was torn apart like wet parchment in a hurricane. The grey chains vaporized instantly. The Flesh Golems didn't even have time to shriek before the golden radiance reduced them to fine, white ash.
[Black Order] let out a joyous, rhythmic thrumming. The dragon-scale patterns on the blade began to pulse in sync with Gu Hanzhou's heartbeat, as if the sword had finally found the missing half of its soul.
"This... this is Bloodline Resonance?!" For the first time, the mask of arrogance on Duke Mordent's face cracked, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated terror.
He had miscalculated. He had assumed Gu Qingshan was a spent husk, a dry well. He had forgotten the most terrifying trait of the Ancient Court's Royal Blood: [The Eternal Hearth]. As long as a direct descendant was present, the stolen, suppressed power wouldn't vanish—it would flow toward the successor like a flood finding its natural riverbed.
Gu Hanzhou felt a prehistoric power surging through his meridians. The bottleneck he had faced at the early stage of the Blood-Ignition Phase didn't just crack; it vanished.
Blood-Ignition Phase: Peak Realm... PERFECTION!
His eyes turned into twin pools of liquid gold. Behind him, the shadowy figure of the King was no longer a blur. It was a towering, black-armored monarch sitting upon a throne of a thousand blades, looking down at the world with cold, divine indifference.
"You old beast... get down here!"
Gu Hanzhou swung his arm, and [Black Order] unleashed a physical blade-wave ten meters long. This wasn't just a swing of a sword; it was a manifestation of "Divine Law"—an absolute suppression of the lower "Order" Mordent served.
Mordent, reeling from the backlash of his shattered Dead Zone, found himself plummeting from his high walkway. To his horror, he realized that despite being a Blood-Settlement Phase (镇血阶) powerhouse, his knees were shaking. His body, his very DNA, was screaming at him to prostrate himself before the boy in the ruins.
He managed to conjure a grey light-shield as he hit the ground, panting heavily.
K-CHAK!
The shield shattered like cheap ice under Gu Hanzhou's gaze alone.
Gu Hanzhou dragged the heavy blade through the wreckage, sparks flying as the steel etched a line into the floor. He carried his unconscious father on his back, his grip on Gu Qingshan's legs steady and unbreakable.
"Didn't you want a perfect vessel?"
Gu Hanzhou's voice echoed through the subterranean hollow, each word sounding like a funeral bell tolling for the New Order.
"Now, I'm going to personally deliver you to the grave."