PBSE 09

Chapter Nine – Fusion of Bloodlines.

Author: Wei Yi Yong Heng , 2014-12-24 .                                                                                                                     

Ancient Beasts were the original inhabitants of the Xuanhuang Continent. Unlike the Hundred Races who were exiled, they did not cultivate mystic arts but instead focused solely on refining their physical bodies. They were the only race spared by the Holy Emperor Pangu at the end of the First Era.

These Ancient Beasts resided deep within their territories. Unless provoked or intruded upon by humans, they rarely ventured out.

Humans regarded the Ancient Beasts as training targets—and likewise, the beasts saw humans as prey for tempering themselves.

The Blackstone Mountain Range was home to countless Ancient Beasts. The Hammerstone Tribe and eight other tribes all bordered this vast range, but despite the nine tribes together numbering nearly a million people, they were nothing compared to the sheer multitude of beasts dwelling within the ten-thousand-mile expanse.

Ordinary two-star Ancient Beasts were not to be trifled with. Even a warrior of equal rank was no match for them. The mutated Ancient Beast—the Barbaric Bear—was especially powerful, far beyond most others of its level.

So when Qin Lin appeared carrying the corpse of a Barbaric Bear—its body dozens of times larger than his own—everyone was struck dumb. This was a formidable two-star Ancient Beast, one whose single slap could kill a thousand-man commander of the tribe.

Even though it was dead, the beast’s carcass still radiated a terrifying aura. The oppressive might made even several of the commanders struggle to breathe.

The hundred-man leaders felt stifled, as if a great weight pressed upon their chests.

If Lin Hai hadn’t been shielding the young Fatty and Qin Mo with his own energy, the two of them would have already fainted under that crushing pressure.

Even so, both boys trembled uncontrollably, their hearts seized by primal fear before the mountain-like carcass of the beast.

This was Qin Mo’s first time seeing a real Ancient Beast. Although he had lived in the Xuanhuang Continent for over two months and often saw warriors return from hunting expeditions into the mountains, they usually brought back only common beasts. True Ancient Beasts—those that could condense a Star Core—were rarely slain, and even if they were, their remains were usually unrecognizable.

But what truly shocked him wasn’t the might of the two-star Barbaric Bear—it was the man who had casually tossed that colossal beast onto the back mountain.

“Tonight, I will fuse the bloodline for you.”

That simple sentence left Qin Mo bewildered, but the indifference in his eyes melted away. In that instant, he felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

“No matter what happens, you still have Mom and Dad.”

That single phrase resurfaced in his memory—words from another world, from two kind-hearted parents who had always stood by him, no matter what trouble he caused.

In the past, he had taken it for granted—after all, wasn’t that what parents were supposed to do?

But now, after truly facing danger and loss, he understood the deep love and weight hidden in those simple words.

Qin Mo wanted to cry, yet he held back. He only watched the silent figure walking back toward the tribe and made a silent vow in his heart.

Night fell. The stars, like countless jewels, shimmered across the dark sky, adorning the world with their light.

Bonfires burned brightly in the Hammerstone Tribe. Men, women, and children danced around them, their faces filled with joy, excitement, and pride.

Their chieftain had slain a two-star Ancient Beast—a Barbaric Bear at that. Everyone knew he had done it for Qin Mo’s sake, yet they still celebrated. A mighty chieftain was a blessing to them, just as the Holy Emperor was to all mankind—his strength was their protection, their reason to live safely in this world.

Several massive cauldrons were carried from the Elder Hall and placed over the fires, their contents boiling furiously.

But this wasn’t for cooking meat—it was for alchemy.

Under the direction of the Grand Elder Qin Tianli, several elders stood on the sacrificial platform, gazing solemnly at the heavens as they chanted ancient incantations. Then, each elder approached a cauldron, murmuring sacred spells. The intricate runes engraved on the bronze surfaces began to glow.

These cauldrons had existed since the founding of the tribe, and only the elders—priests of the clan—could activate them.

As the light flared, the surrounding tribesmen ceased their dancing, fell to their knees, and began to chant in reverence.

After a quarter of an hour, the cauldrons shone even brighter. At that moment, several hundred-man commanders approached solemnly, each bearing a large basin filled with crimson blood.

To everyone’s astonishment, the blood seemed alive—it roared and surged, occasionally taking the form of a blood-red bear that crashed violently within the basin.

The commanders carrying the basins struggled to steady themselves under the immense force, and if not for the runes inscribed on the basins—each releasing light to suppress the escaping spirit—their contents might have burst forth.

With the Grand Elder’s guidance, the blood was safely poured into the boiling cauldrons.

Instantly, all nine cauldrons erupted in blazing red light. Within each, a massive bear-shaped phantom thrashed and roared, as if seeking escape.

But the runes upon the cauldrons held them fast, locking the beasts within. Qin Tianli continued his chants as countless medicinal herbs were added. Soon, a thick and pungent fragrance filled the air.

Qin Lin emerged from his stone dwelling, now dressed in clean robes, his expression as impassive as ever.

The Grand Elder turned to him and bowed respectfully. “Chieftain, the Blood Refinement Elixir is ready.”

Qin Lin nodded, his eyes sweeping across the gathered tribesmen. “Children aged eight to ten with at least one hundred jin of strength—step forward.”

At once, parents pushed their children out of the crowd—about fifty in total. Their young faces were filled with fear, yet also excitement.

“Begin the fusion,” Qin Lin ordered calmly.

Warriors seized the children and, without hesitation, tossed them into the boiling cauldrons. Yet the parents showed no worry—only pride and anticipation.

Those not chosen watched with envy.

Strangely, although the children screamed in pain, they were not burned alive. A faint radiance surrounded each of them, shielding their bodies.

As the flames roared and the cauldrons bubbled, crimson light seeped into their skin. Their blood boiled, their bodies hardened, their strength began to transform.

Every child was immersed in the cauldrons—Fatty Li Xiaohu among them. His cries were the loudest, but he also absorbed the most crimson light from his cauldron.

The adults smiled at this sight. This was the way of humanity.

Humans were frail creatures; to survive in such a harsh world, they had to fight—to seize power, to steal the bloodlines and talents of other races, and make themselves stronger.

All eyes then turned to Qin Mo. The final cauldron had been prepared for him alone.

No one objected to the chieftain’s decision. This was the right earned by a father who had risked his life for his son.

Even the Grand Elder Qin Tianli remained silent, for part of the Barbaric Bear’s blood had already been used to strengthen the tribe’s next generation.

Seeing all this, Qin Mo felt uneasy. In his old world, he would have run for his life—but now, desire burned brighter than fear.

Before Qin Lin could even speak, Qin Mo leaped forward and plunged into the boiling cauldron himself.

Qin Lin’s lips curved into a rare, satisfied smile.

“Seal the cauldron!” he commanded.