Part 1: Silence in the Sanctuary
The battle had ended, but Skull Rock did not rest. Outside, laughter and sporadic cheers cut through the night, while the wounded were tended to and the fallen honored at a makeshift altar beneath the shelter of the Dragon Tower. The air was impregnated with ozone, burnt blood, and a Qi so dense it felt like an invisible mist.
Beneath the surface, in the stillness of the depths, Samael walked alongside Seraphina. Their footsteps were almost silent; only the echo of their breathing and the subtle hum of the System accompanied their descent.
The Hall of Forgotten Bloodlines was a universe apart. The natural cavern breathed a Qi so pure and ancient that the air crackled with energy. Liquid droplets fell from the ceiling, forming constellations upon the spiritual pool, and light danced on the water, transforming everything into a spectacle of ethereal reflections.
Samael let out a long sigh. Exhaustion soaked into his bones. He had fought until his meridians burned, until he felt the Void gnawing at his soul. He let himself fall by the edge of the pool, his robes dampening with the silvery steam. The dragon and the void, the Blood Qi and the weight of the fallen—everything swirled in his chest.
Seraphina knelt behind him, wrapping her cool arms around his torso. The contrast between his inner fire and her outer ice brought a much-needed truce.
"You pushed yourself too hard," she whispered, her voice soft but carrying a new nuance of imperial authority. "The dragon is strong, Samael, but the vessel... the vessel is still human."
"I had to," he replied, leaning back against her. "If I showed a crack, the vultures would have attacked before the ashes cooled."
Seraphina did not answer with words. Instead, she channeled her Yin Qi. It flowed into him, soothing the fire in his blood. It wasn't just healing; it was communion. The [Dragon and Phoenix Union] bond vibrated, and for a moment, their souls touched. Samael saw fragments of her memories: a throne of ice, an empire in flames, an ancient betrayal. She saw his fears: the void devouring everything, the solitude of command.
"You are not alone in this life," she murmured against his neck. "Your war is my war."
Samael turned and pulled her into his arms, both submerging into the spiritual water. For an hour, there was no System, no enemies, no clan. Only two sovereigns healing their wounds in the dark, intertwining their bodies and their destinies.
[Recovery Complete.]
[Yin-Yang Affinity increased. Cultivation stabilized at Peak Transcendent.]
Part 2: Opening the Treasury
When they emerged from the water, dressed in dry ceremonial robes, the atmosphere shifted. Intimacy gave way to ambition.
Samael summoned the interface. Floating above the hall's altar, the Heaven Grade Chest appeared. It wasn't made of wood or gold, but of pure light, pulsing with runes the human eye could barely track.
"Are you ready?" Samael asked.
Seraphina nodded, her blue eyes fixed on the prize. "Let's see what tools the Heavens grant us to conquer the earth."
Samael placed his hand on the light.
[Opening Heaven Grade Chest...]
...Analyzing Host's needs...
...Detecting territory expansion...
[DING! You have obtained 3 Legendary Items:]
1. [Manual: "War God's Puppet Art" (Fragment 1/3)]
Type: Forbidden Technique / Creation.
Description: Allows the user to use the corpses of Origin Realm cultivators or higher to forge "Eternal Guardians." They retain 80% of their strength from life and feel no pain or fear.
Note: Requires Beast Cores and rare metals.
2. [Spirit Vein Seed: Earth Dragon Heart]
Type: Base Resource.
Usage: When planted at the fortress core, transforms the surrounding land (50 km) into a Cultivation Holy Land.
Additional Effect: Automatically generates 1,000 Middle-Grade Spirit Stones per month.
3. [Artifact: The Mirror of Ten Thousand Miles (Heaven Grade - Defective)]
Type: Espionage / Strategic.
Usage: Allows consciousness projection to view any location within a 10,000 km radius, provided the user has an item or Qi trace of the target.
Defect: Consumes massive mental energy. Limited usage: 10 minutes per day.
Samael held the Spirit Vein Seed, a pulsating crystal that looked like a real heart.
"With this..." he murmured, his eyes shining with calculating greed, "...we will no longer depend on looting external mines. We will create our own empire of resources right here."
Seraphina, however, eyed the Puppet Manual.
"That art... is cruel," she said, but there was no rejection in her voice, only pragmatism. "The bodies of the Half-Saints you killed last night... do you still have them?"
Samael smiled, a cold, predatory smile.
"They are in my inventory. It seems the System wants us to recycle the Valois trash."
Part 3: The War Council
An hour later, Samael and Seraphina ascended to the meeting room of the Dragon Tower. Cedric, Kael, Lilith, and the twins (Violeta and Eris) were already waiting.
Samael placed the Mirror of Ten Thousand Miles on the table.
"We have survived," he said without preamble. "But survival is no longer enough."
Cedric adjusted his glasses, looking at the mirror. "What is that, Patriarch?"
"Our eyes," Samael replied. He placed a piece of bloody cloth—torn from one of the Shadow of Dunes' assassins—onto the mirror.
Samael channeled his Qi. The mirror darkened and then displayed a sharp image. The view moved north, crossing dunes and rivers, until it stopped over a black citadel surrounded by dormant volcanoes.
The Valois Fortress.
The image zoomed into a balcony. There stood Alaric Valois, older now, with a fresh scar on his face and an aura that had crossed into the Origin Realm. He was speaking with an elderly man dressed in purple robes.
"That is..." Kael clenched his fist on the table.
"An Envoy from the Purple Light Sect," Cedric confirmed, pale. "They are negotiating."
The mirror transmitted a distorted fragment of audio:
"...The Tournament of the Hundred Sects is approaching. If the Morningstar Clan participates, they will be publicly humiliated. If they do not participate, they will lose their right to claim sovereign lands. Either way, they are trapped."
The image faded. Samael rubbed his temple, exhausted by the mental consumption.
"They want to corner us politically," Lilith said. "If we go to the tournament, we face geniuses from across the continent. If we don't go, they will declare us a 'Bandit Clan' and send a crusade to legally exterminate us."
Samael looked at his officers.
"Then, we won't give them the pleasure of choosing."
He stood up and walked to the window, overlooking his expanding fortress.
"Cedric, plant the Spirit Vein Seed today. I want this base to have so much Qi you can chew it."
"Kael, Violeta, Eris... you are going into the Dragon Tower, and you won't come out until you break your limits. I will prepare you personally."
"Lilith, take the bodies of the fallen enemies. We are going to study this Puppet Manual. We need guardians who do not sleep."
He turned to them, his Dragon and Void eyes burning with violet fire.
"Do they want to see us at the Tournament? We will go. But we won't go to compete. We will go to remind the Sects why their ancestors feared the name Morningstar."
[System: Volume 2 Mission Activated]
[Name: The Rise to the Continental Throne]
[Main Objective: Rank in the Top 3 of the Hundred Sects Tournament.]
[Secondary Objective: Humiliate the Purple Light Sect.]
[Final Reward: Unlocking the Second Stage of the Primordial Bloodline.]
Samael smiled.
"Recess is over. It is time to conquer."
Part 7: Vision of the Ancestors and the Patriarch's Eye
That night, Samael sat alone in the Hall of Bloodlines. He closed his eyes. The System vibrated; the Patriarch's Eye opened fully.
And then, he saw:
Alaric Valois training in the Purple Light Sect, his dark and golden aura growing, surrounded by Saints and Half-Saints.
The Shadow of the Dunes, wounded but alive, crawling toward a sanctuary filled with hatred and promises of vengeance.
A figure wrapped in purple lightning, watching from the mountains to the west: the true enemy Saint, still hidden.
In the reflection of the water, Samael saw his own face, halfway between man and dragon.
An ancestral whisper, the voice of a forgotten dragon, murmured:
"Absolute power is not redemption. Choose well whom you turn into a guardian... or a puppet."
Samael opened his eyes, more determined than ever.
Part 8: New Horizon, New Oath
Before dawn, Samael climbed the Dragon Tower. The clan, gathered after the long night, knelt before him.
"Today we are stronger. But there is no glory without sacrifice, nor future without pain. The Tournament will be our battlefield, and history will remember that here, in the desert, a clan challenged the sects and the heavens."
He raised his arm.
"For the blood, for the void, for the dragon! For Morningstar!"
The answering roar shook the sands.