Barton, the berserker of the War Clan, was lost in the ecstasy of victory.He licked the blood at the corner of his mouth, feeling the blood-energy surging through him, three warm "cleaver" sigils clenched tightly in his hand.Each sigil represented a fellow tribesman he had torn apart."Hahaha! Mother's glory is destined to belong to me, Barton!"He laughed maniacally and, without hesitation, stepped into the spinning blood-red portal before him.He was going to seek more prey, collect more sigils!However, the moment he stepped out of the blood-red vortex, the splendid palace he had expected did not appear.He was met by a dead silence, an ancient library steeped in the musty smell of old paper.Towering shelves reached up to the dome, cloaked in cobwebs and dust.In the center of the library, a man in a silver coat with striking silver hair crouched on the floor, his fingers flashing over a complex sigil carved into the ground, as if altering something.A human?Patton was stunned

Boom——!!!!Veridian's words were like the fuse to a powder keg!The sacrificial array throughout Reginald Castle was, in an instant, utterly reversed!A vast, ancient torrent of energy—suffused with chaos and the breath of primeval life—was wrenched out of the castle's throne hall by an irresistible, overwhelming force!The energy took on a viscous, dark-red liquid glow, like the torn artery of a god, seeping down along the magic veins that ran throughout the castle!In the end, it poured madly into the white-boned stage at the center of the courtyard!"Ah—no! What is this?!""Help! My body! My blood!"On the stage, those surviving vampire nobles—still relieved to have lived through the ordeal—had their expressions freeze in an instant, shifting from vigilance to utter terror.They only had time to let out half of a scream!Under that surge of life energy, pure to the utmost and originating from the "Mother," their bodies were like metal thrown into aqua regia; they couldn't even hold

Spicy?Veridian's mind was still a bit glitched.That was a divine mental shock capable of driving a duke-level powerhouse insane in an instant, and in her mouth it was just a "little spicy" marshmallow?At that moment, in the throne hall of the castle's spire, that enormous fleshy "womb" suddenly trembled!A will more concentrated than before, yet filled with bewilderment and confusion, crossed the physical dimension and sounded directly in Lilith and Viridian's minds."What are you?"That vast, chaotic female voice was no longer haughtily tyrannical; it carried a gravity never heard before."There is the scent of the Primeval about you...""Mother," this slumbering quasi-god, and Lilith, this awakening ancient being, met each other's gaze as if for the first time in a dimension no one else could see.Lilith did not answer her question.This tiny, ancient presence seemed to care about only one thing.She tilted her head, her small finger first pointing at the mass of flesh below that

Crow's Nest Manor, underground.Reginald Castle, which once perched on the cliff, now lay like a perfectly dissected specimen, quietly sleeping in this vast space personally carved out by Viridian.The power of the Sanctum Workshop worked like invisible worker ants, ceaselessly reshaping the ancient structure day and night, branding every bloodstained brick with Viridian's unique imprint—a weaving of holy light and abyssal shadow.In the great hall of the castle, Viridian sat behind that ornate desk crafted from bones and obsidian, quietly feeling the upheaval within his body.His heart was no longer fragile flesh.The Immortal Heart beat powerfully in his chest; each throb seemed to proclaim a brand-new law.And his newly awakened gift, Sinful Sovereignty, spread like an invisible vast net, centering on him and drawing into its "realm" all the settled sins and grievances within the castle.He was the sole sovereign of this land of sin.Viridian slowly extended his right hand; his ind

Yinfan City, west side.This is the graveyard of industry; the abandoned Third Alchemy Workshop stood like a beached steel behemoth, silently looming under the cold moonlight, its rust-streaked pipes like exposed veins and nerves.A strange stench—an admixture of rotten metal and unknown chemical reagents—hung in the air, nauseating.A figure appeared at the workshop's gate without a sound.He showed none of the nerves of a stealthy intruder; his steps were unhurried, his posture elegant, as if he were not coming to set traps but to inspect the restaurant he was about to open.He surveyed the ruined, convoluted "kitchen" with a look of satisfaction on his face.The place was complex enough—the lingering alchemical energies and ripples of magic provided the perfect cover.He didn't like those rigid magic traps; they were far too easy for seasoned hunters to detect.He preferred... to turn the entire environment into the trap itself.Viridian slowly raised his hand, his palm aimed at th