In the deepest part of the graveyard, a hidden cave.
Damian pushed open the stone door, carried the corpse down a shadowed passage, and entered a spacious stone chamber.
Only then did he place Arachne of Tarantula's corpse into a white jade sarcophagus.
The white jade coffins were prepared for Gold Saints' bodies.
There were only a few—hard-won at great effort.
But this Tarantula Arachne was worth a white jade burial.
He was willing to spend big here, no half measures.
He didn't rush to bury Arachne; first came the most important task.
Damian turned to the four headstones of the previous generation of Gold Saints and took out the ancient little bottle.
He walked slowly to the Taurus Gold Saint's grave.
Wait—he'd already farmed all of Taurus's skills.
Great Horn, Titan Nova—that was enough for him.
This bottle of blood should be used on another Gold Saint's grave.
Of the remaining three, who deserved the god-blood pour?
Cancer's Manigoldo, Scorpio's Kardia, or young Leo Regulus?
After a moment's recall, Damian finally chose Regulus.
By memory, that Gold Saint was truly a beast—one of the best records. He didn't know if he could use divine blood to pull the whole skill set.
He popped the cork from the little old bottle and tilted the mouth, ready to pour, his heart pounding fast.
He figured Athena's divine blood could turn an ordinary Bronze Cloth into a God Cloth; the Cyclops's god‑blood, imbued with divinity, should do something to a headstone too.
Even if it wasn't as useful as Athena's blood, it should trigger some kind of mutation bonus and drop something.
Now let's see—what mutation will the grave get?
"Die… die… die!"
Just as the bottle cap came off and the blood was about to flow, a vicious, phantasmal voice whispered in Damian's ear.
The sound was piercing, right at the mind—like countless quarrels at his ear, chaotic and noisy, striking at the soul, as if to infect and corrupt the spirit.
Looking closely, a blood‑red eye seemed to stare from the viscous droplet, its gaze as if to devour him.
"The god‑blood's tainted—the Cyclops's soul is attached to it."
"And it looks corruptive. Better not upgrade a grave."
He hesitated, then stoppered the bottle.
A poisonous curse lingered in the god‑blood, reeking of rot and chaos. Without a doubt, the Cyclops's soul dwelled within.
If he poured that on a headstone, that evil ripple would pollute the surroundings. If that blew up, it would be ugly.
"I already felt something off about this Cyclops's blood. Should've asked Shura more about it."
Damian shrugged, annoyed.
After a grueling trip, he'd earned… nothing?
A spark flashed in his mind—he thought of a method.
One he'd never tried before.
Since burying a body in the graveyard yields attributes and skills, what about burying this so‑called divine blood?
He moved at once.
He found a block of white jade, hollowed it with a sweep—chips flying—and in moments fashioned a small coffin.
It was a neat little coffin—a bit longer than his forearm—like an infant's coffin, just right for the bottle.
Once the coffin was made, he picked an empty grave in the cave, placed the bottle of Cyclops god‑blood into it, quickly shoveled earth over it, and stood a blank headstone on top.
Exactly like burying a corpse.
"…Let's have a look."
When he finished, he looked at the headstone and saw no text.
No body, no effect?
A pity…
Damian shrugged and turned to leave.
The headstone, previously inert, suddenly shuddered; then a crimson eye design surfaced on it.
Below it, a few lines of black text rose into view.
"An eye sigil—and what's with this writing?"
Damian was both delighted and speechless.
Because the characters were warped and twisted, like little octopuses, some even slowly squirming.
It was the first time he'd seen black letters on a headstone—and crawling ones, at that.
Even so, he parsed the text.
[Soul: Aberrant Cyclops Progenitor—Lei]
[Rank: God‑tier Cyclops—Aberrant Divine Blood]
[Yield: Polluted Divinity +20, Polluted Soul Power +35]
[Extractable Ability: Divine Forging]
[Grave Grade: Silver]
This… actually worked!
I actually farmed the Cyclops!
Damian swallowed; his heart pounded.
In Hesiod's myth, Cyclopes were the children of Uranus and Gaia—(Thunder), (Lightning), and (Thunderclap)—defining trait "one eye" in the middle of the brow.
He hadn't expected this Cyclops to be one of the three progenitors—a Titan descendant.
Not a mighty god, but possessing divinity.
As he understood it, to have divinity was to be a god. A "divinity" attribute—his first time seeing one—was absolutely ultra‑rare.
Soul power was also a first—by experience, it should boost the soul directly.
As for Divine Forging!
If he learned it, could he forge Cloths himself?
Cyclopes could forge divine weapons—making Cloths should be a lock, right?
Thrilled, Damian still frowned slightly.
No matter what, he couldn't touch the headstone right now to absorb attributes and skills.
Because the Cyclops progenitor's soul was polluted—and its divinity, too.
He didn't know what force had caused it, but one thing was certain: polluted things shouldn't be touched—like not eating rotten food.
Damian shrugged.
To learn the Cyclops's forging, he'd likely have to purify the soul.
Looked like he'd have to "borrow" some ancient scrolls from the Pope's hall—patch his knowledge and find a way to purify before safely farming the skills and stats.
For now, this grave was to be admired at a distance, not toyed with.
Wait it out…
Still, he hadn't come away empty‑handed.
Time to handle the corpse of Tarantula Silver Saint Arachne.
This time, Damian buried Arachne's coffin directly opposite the four previous‑generation Gold Saints' graves.
A special treatment, in a way.
Because his finishers were unusual—seemingly rich in potential.
Hope it doesn't disappoint.
A white jade coffin for the body, a white jade headstone, decorations and repairs—the full flow.
[Body: Arachne]
[Rank: Tarantula Silver Saint]
[Yield: Cosmo +10, Telekinesis +18]
[Extractable Abilities: Psychic Energy Web, Wolf Spider Web Punch]
[Grave Grade: Gold]
"Nice Telekinesis stat, but that Cosmo is trash."
Damian groused.
Telekinesis was rare. In all his digging, few graves yielded it.
But the Cosmo—garbage, as expected.
Without hesitation, he pressed his palm to the headstone.
First came the flood of Cosmo and Telekinesis.
Then a familiar scene rose before his eyes… and across from him appeared himself =(*)
(End of Chapter)
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