CHAPTER 184: The Throne of the War God and the Forging of the Empire
Morning in the Patriarch's Palace possessed a deceptive stillness. While the rest of the clan rested and assimilated the overwhelming rewards from the expedition to the Primordial Tomb, Samael Morningstar's war machine did not stop for a single instant. The outside world kept turning, oblivious to the storm brewing in the abyss of the Realm of Eternal Dawn.
In his private study, illuminated by orbs of cold, perpetual light, Samael sat behind an immense desk made of fossilized dragon wood. In front of him, standing with an impeccable martial uprightness that bordered on devotion, was Vexia.
On the desk rested half a dozen manuals and jade scrolls. They were not simple books; they vibrated and pulsed with contained elemental energies, waiting to be unleashed upon the continent.
"The Codex of the Tyrant Dragon will unify the minds of the legion," Samael began, his deep, authoritative voice echoing off the bare stone walls, "but a giant body without sharp weapons and an absolute shell is just an easy target. The thirty thousand soldiers of the Dead Blood Guard, along with the new commanders you will forge, will assimilate these doctrines of war."
Samael slid the first two manuals toward her. The jade stone emitted a heavy, dull hum, like the heartbeat of a mountain.
"For the vanguard and the immovable survival of our front line: the [Body Technique: Black Iron Scales] and the [Group Combat Technique: Iron Phalanx Formation]."
Vexia extended a gloved hand and brushed the surface of the jades. Instantly, her sharp divine sense was pulled into the matrix of knowledge.
In her mind, the Marshal stopped seeing the study and was transported to a martial illusion. She saw thousands of soldiers from her legion absorbing the pure essence of heavy minerals and earth Qi. She watched in fascination as, beneath the warriors' skin, an intricate network of metallic fibers was woven. Her men's epidermis took on a dark metallic sheen, almost black, becoming as cold as a frozen riverbed. It was the Dark Smelting Skin, a Mid-Earth grade barrier that provided terrifying immunity against ordinary weapons, allowing them to block sabers and swords with bare forearms without shedding a single drop of blood.
But the vision went further. Vexia felt the Impact Absorption Density. Her men didn't just harden; the molecular mass of their bones and muscles multiplied. When a massive attack struck their chests, the destructive vibration dispersed through those "invisible scales" of iron, safeguarding their hearts and Dantians. And as a result of that inhuman density, the Weight of the Colossus was born: every punch and kick from her soldiers acquired the devastating power of a siege hammer, crushing armor as if it were paper.
Immediately, the illusion expanded, showing the execution of the [Iron Phalanx Formation].
Vexia saw the vanguard take a unison step forward, slamming their hexagonal shields together with a deafening CLANG! that made her very soul vibrate. The runes on the shields ignited in an opaque amber. The air in front of them physically densified, creating a mist of golden dust from the friction. They had created the Wall of Wills. The Qi of a thousand men braided into a single molecular net. An attack that would pulverize an individual would be absorbed and diluted by the mathematical sum of the entire legion.
From the rear of that perfect wall, Vexia witnessed the hidden offensive: the Iron Spikes. Siege spears, vibrating at ultrasonic frequencies and imbued with the Black Iron Scales, cut the air with dull snaps, piercing the shells of divine beasts as if they were wet parchment.
And when the enemy charge arrived, the Tectonic Rooting activated. The warriors' boots and shields sprouted roots of solid mineral and ochre Qi that coiled deep into the planet's ley lines. The ground sank into a concave crater due to the immense gravity of the formation. The Morningstar Phalanx advanced with a devastating rhythm: BOOM... BOOM... BOOM!, becoming a floating iron fortress that transformed the enemy's aggression into simple fuel to sink deeper into reality.
Vexia opened her eyes, her pupils dilated by pure tactical ecstasy.
"And so they aren't slow statues," Samael said, reading her expression as he pushed a sand-colored scroll forward, "they will integrate the [Movement Technique: Quicksand Steps]."
Vexia's mind plunged back into the jade's comprehension. She saw her iron colossi lose all their rigidity. The stone slabs beneath their feet began to ripple as if the ground were decomposing into billions of invisible sand grains. It was the Fluidity of the Desert. Her men glided an inch above the ground with astonishing smoothness, tracing lateral dodges that defied inertia.
Before the eyes of the illusory enemy, the movement generated a maddening mirage: the Sinking Trail. It seemed the warriors' legs were devoured by the earth, evading arrows and slashes, only to "emerge" three meters to the side. And when they decided to attack, the Sand Impulse activated: they compressed the ground beneath their boots and released themselves like a high-pressure spring, traveling in a cylindrical wake of golden dust like ballistic projectiles born from the heart of the mountain. All in a lulling silence, like the brush of the wind on a sandstorm night.
Vexia nodded fervently, almost trembling at the logistical massacre these combined techniques would cause.
"Now, the lethality of the Commanders and the shock troops." Samael pushed the remaining three jades: one colorless, one red, and one blue. "These will ensure total offense. The [Sword Art: Phantom Gale Slash] will nullify the sound of their draws."
The Marshal touched the colorless jade. She saw a swordsman plant his feet. Upon touching his hilt, the air within a one-meter radius compressed, creating an absolute vacuum (The Acoustic Void). The draw was a line of silver water in the gloom. The enemy saw the warrior standing still, but already had their throat slit, falling dead in a world that never heard the steel. At higher levels (The Phantasmagoric Displacement), the user moved so fast that light lagged behind, leaving an afterimage that the enemy attacked while the true edge cut from their back. And at the technique's peak (The Gale of Nothingness), the slash skipped physical space. The blade entered the void and decapitated instantly, unleashing a posthumous typhoon that disintegrated the remains into gray ash.
"For aerial dominance and explosive damage, they will use the red jade manual: [Sky-Piercing Phoenix Spear]," Samael indicated.
Vexia's vision caught fire. She watched the Descent of the Igneous Phoenix: a warrior leaping into the firmament and diving down cloaked in a ten-meter-wingspan liquid plasma bird. Upon striking the ground, a volcanic wave melted armor and incinerated the meridians of everyone in the area. It was followed by the Setting Sun Thrust: a hypersonic flurry that deposited three orbs of incandescent white light into the enemy's body, which exploded synchronously, shattering the target's Dantian from the inside. And all while the Song of the Phoenix maintained a passive thermal distortion that self-incinerated enemy arrows before they could touch the wielder.
"And for crowd control and supreme agility, the blue jade manual: [Waltz of the Lunar Frost]," Samael concluded.
The final vision was cold and beautiful. Vexia saw an assassin bathed in a blue jade aura, leaving behind a Reflection of the Moon in the Ice. His movements left three exact copies of dark frost. When the enemy attacked a copy, it silently exploded into a cloud of needles that climbed up the rival's limbs, freezing them instantly. The assassin counterattacked with the Freezing Midnight Slash, a crescent energy arc that didn't spill blood, but transmuted flesh into white porcelain, stopping the heart in an eternal stasis. All under the oppressive influence of the Lunar Shroud Aura, a mist that slowed enemies' meridians, making them feel trapped in an underwater nightmare while the user danced over the slaughter.
"With this, Patriarch," Vexia said, letting go of the jades, her breathing slightly ragged from the magnitude of the knowledge, "the Dead Blood Guard will not just exhaust enemy Saints. We will systematically destroy them, exploiting every single one of their elemental and martial weaknesses."
"That is the goal. Withdraw and begin the assimilation into the soldiers' cores," Samael ordered.
When Vexia left, the temperature in the study seemed to drop a degree. The shadows in the corner of the room condensed unnaturally. Sela, the lethal leader of the assassins, emerged from the void in absolute, deadly silence. She had already received the manual for the Sutra of the Shadowless Specter the day before, but Samael had one last key piece for his Eyes of the Void.
Samael tossed her a small jade as dark as onyx.
"That is the evolution of your base technique: [Evolved Shadow Step]."
Sela caught the jade and her Sea of Consciousness absorbed the High-Earth/Initial-Saint Grade information. The technique revealed the longed-for Phase Transition: "The Flicker of Non-Being". During movement, the user's body disintegrated into particles of absolute darkness for 0.5 seconds. In that tiny fraction of time, she became completely intangible. A divine sword or an enemy's fiery hell would simply pass through her figure as if cutting through smoke.
She also learned the Umbral Threshold Leap, allowing her to travel inside reality, jumping from one shadow to another within a fifty-meter radius with no noise, friction, or air displacement. And as a culmination, the Residual Darkness Trail: upon finishing the leap, she left a "shadow sheath" that emitted her exact heat and heartbeat for a full second, forcing the enemy to attack a mirage while the real blade emerged from the opponent's own back.
However, Sela noted the library's warning: "The Step requires a cold mind. If you hesitate during intangibility, you run the risk of getting trapped between dimensions."
"Between the Specter Sutra and this intangibility," Samael murmured, resting his hands on the desk, "I want you and your assassins to become the fear that cannot be touched. Only those with the steadfast blood of the clan can walk through the abyss and return unharmed. Do not disappoint me, Sela."
"We will be the death that casts no shadow, my Lord," the assassin swore, bowing with reverence before sinking back into the cold abyss.
With the immense military machinery perfected and in motion, Samael left his study. In the illuminated corridors of the palace, he met Seraphina. His wife awaited him with a serene smile, her beauty framed by the unforgiving purity of the Eternal Lotus.
Together, without the need for words, they walked back to the oppressive and sacred isolation of the Palace of Primordial Heritage. The massive, heavy obsidian doors closed behind them with a dull thud, sealing the flow of time. In here, two years would pass while the outside world barely blinked. The universe could wait; the War God needed to be forged.
Both walked to the center of the massive meditation array embedded in the floor. Samael took the bottle containing the mythical Divine Grade Enlightenment Tea from his spatial ring. He uncorked the glass, and a pure, ancestral, and overwhelming aroma flooded the immense room, clearing their minds of all mortal dross instantly. Samael drank exactly half of the stellar liquid, handing the rest to Seraphina.
The effect was not subtle. It was a conceptual tidal wave that shattered the limits of his mortal comprehension.
[System Initiating Divine Grade Assimilation!]
[State of 'Absolute Enlightenment' achieved. Estimated time: Unlimited during isolated cultivation.]
Samael closed his eyes and the physical world completely disappeared. In the immensity of his Sea of Consciousness, the techniques, laws, and manuals he had accumulated floated like an intricate map of constellations waiting to be conquered and fused. Under the Divine Enlightenment, his brain didn't think; it operated at an absurd quantum speed.
The first thing was to forge the foundations of the absolute void.
Samael channeled the [Void Heart Sutra (Vol. 1)]. Within seconds, the pain and metamorphosis began. This Primordial Foundation technique demanded he "empty the vessel." His Dantian ceased to be a simple container overflowing with energy; it collapsed in on itself, transforming into a conceptual sinkhole, an absolute void that violently devoured the natural energy of the world.
His biological channels mutated into Void Crystal Meridians. Because they were literally empty channels devoid of physical resistance, Samael's Qi began to flow at a speed a hundred times greater than any mortal cultivator without tearing his veins apart. His own heart beat with a new rhythm, becoming the Core of Infinite Absorption, granting him the ability to absorb lower-ranked enemy attacks and purify them instantly. Finally, he achieved the Zero Mind, shielding his brain against illusions, for there was "nothing" in his heart for an enemy to manipulate.
With the perfect foundation established, his will directed itself toward the conceptual recording technique: the [Stellar River Scripture].
The light of a thousand stars condensed in front of him, materializing in his mind a translucent scroll of immense proportions whose inscriptions changed in real-time. It was the Chronicle of Truth. Samael observed the golden and crimson letters.
He understood that by deploying this scroll before an object or enemy, he could read its structure and hidden weaknesses, translating unknown lineages into a comprehensible language. He saw the Lineage Registry, where the names and vital states of each of his heirs, his forty-five geniuses, the disciples, the clan elders, and his wife shone brightly; if a thread of life weakened, the scroll would bleed crimson, alerting him immediately.
He learned Technique Codification, the ability to capture observed martial arts and simplify them to create perfect manuals for his clan. And above all, the Sovereign's Decree: the authority to write a temporary rule with his blood, such as "Fire Qi is forbidden in this valley", forcing local reality to obey.
Immediately, he passively integrated the [Black Iron Scales]. Not like ordinary humans, but by fusing the network of dark metallic fibers directly with his primordial Chaos Dragon scales. The synergy was monstrous, doubling the hardness of a skin that already defied the Heavens, turning him into an absolute biological dreadnought.
But that wasn't enough for an Emperor planning to devour deities.
Pain erupted suddenly. It felt as if an entire continent were dropped on his back while he was submerged in the boiling core of a sun. Any cultivator in the Holy Realm would have exploded into a fine mist of blood in the first second of pressure. But Samael clenched his jaw, his eyes shining with defiant madness, and forced the Laws to submit.
Cosmic wisdom flowed effortlessly through the tea, but Samael felt another immense force pushing and overloading his foundations.
He didn't need to consume a measly extra energy crystal. His Supreme Authority, the Origin Scripture - "The Throne of the War Gods", which he had activated weeks ago, was collecting its macabre and glorious toll. The Harvest passive resonated violently through the thread of destiny in his soul. 10% of the experience, karma, and vital energy of absolutely everything the forty-five Sequences had massacred in the Primordial Labyrinth flowed into him.
The blood of thousands of spatial abominations, the marrow of the immense bone wyrms, the rot of the divine flesh buddhas, and, above all, the remnant energy from the annihilation of the Stage 9 Demonic Holy King's physical body... all that massive, refined energy was injected directly into Samael's Dantian through the Authority's link.
The influx of dead blood and primordial Qi, combined with the Divine Enlightenment, shattered his thick bottlenecks as if they were cheap glass.
Energy erupted from his core. The gigantic obsidian chamber shook violently as Samael crossed the threshold. The crushing, dark pressure broke the heavy cosmic chains of Stage 7 and stabilized instantly, radiating an aura of absolute death, directly into Stage 8 of the Holy Realm.
But a true Sovereign doesn't just conquer; he protects what belongs to him.
Capitalizing on the trance, Samael activated the Heaven Grade Technique: the [Seal of the Eternal Guardian]. Through his lineage connection, he engraved a mark of authority onto the skin of his children, Seraphina, and every member of the Sequences. This seal would act as a sleeping sentinel. If a ward received a mortal attack, the Guardian's Intervention would stop time for the victim and project a shadow of Abaddon or Samael himself to counterattack with 50% of the Patriarch's power.
If the environment was uninhabitable or the bearer fell, the Crimson Stasis Sanctuary would envelop them in a cocoon of Void and Blood, freezing hemorrhages and plunging them into an invulnerable sleep. And finally, the Sovereign's Resonance Thread would act as a beacon; if the seal was activated, Samael would receive a pang in his own dragon heart and open a telepathic "vision tunnel," allowing him to see exactly who dared attack his family, ignoring any spatial barrier in the universe.
Samael exhaled a deep, boiling breath that looked like liquid fire laden with black static. His magical foundations, his mind, and his soul were firmly anchored in Stage 8.
Now, it was the flesh's turn. It was time to submit to the [Manual: Indestructible Body of the War God].
This Supreme/Divine Grade Origin Technique dictated that "the body is the weapon, the soul is the edge." Initiating it required, at a minimum, Stage 1 of the Holy Realm and bones tempered by extreme techniques. The library warned that the practitioner's will would be crushed, feeling as if burned by stars and crushed by oceans. If Samael faltered for a single second, his body would collapse in on itself into a shapeless mass of flesh.
Phase I began: The Stellar Bronze Forging.
Samael entered Stage 1: Astral Iron Skin. His epidermis began to harden radically. A toxic, black mist was expelled from his pores, filtering out every last subatomic impurity from his being. His skin was left cold, highly dense, and visually perfect, capable of shrugging off Earth Grade mystical weapons as if they were simple wooden toys.
The torment escalated upon entering Stage 2: Dragon String Muscles. Samael let out a low grunt. His muscle fibers tore at the cellular level, bleeding internally, only to be magically braided and compacted under the infinite pressure of his Qi. His raw physical strength tripled in seconds. Samael knew, with clinical certainty, that he could now lift entire mountains with his arms without even activating his meridians.
The first phase's cycle closed with Stage 3: War Jade Bones. A disturbing sound of multiple cracks echoed in the palace. His entire skeleton was changing its molecular structure, abandoning calcium to become a dark jade mystical ceramic. His bones became virtually unbreakable to any attack below the Holy Realm.
Most cultivators would stop there so as not to lose their sanity. But Samael Morningstar was not most. Ambition pushed him straight into the boiling hell of Phase II: The Awakening of the Golden Marrow.
Samael let out a dull, contained roar. He was entering Stage 4: Golden Mercury Blood. The blood in his immense veins began to boil at thousands of degrees. Its density increased exponentially, acquiring a golden and crimson glow. Every beat of his heart now sounded like a mallet striking a titanic war drum, sending waves of radioactive vitality through his body. With this mercury blood, severed limbs would regrow in minutes and bodily wounds would close instantly. It was divine regeneration in life.
The pain shifted to his innards for Stage 5: Divine Furnace Organs. His internal organs were coated in a membrane of Inextinguishable Law. Samael felt his respiratory system expand until it became a contained hurricane capable of roaring with seismic fury, while his stomach became an absolute crucible, capable of digesting and processing lethal Holy-level poisons as if he were drinking fresh spring water.
With a final push of his indomitable will, and supported by the glorious residue of the Enlightenment Tea, Samael pushed his Qi toward the final threshold he could endure in this session. Stage 6: Diamond Meridians.
The Void Crystal channels he had forged just minutes ago entered their definitive state. They ceased to be simple, fragile conduits for magic; they crystallized and reinforced until they became cosmic diamond tunnels. Samael felt the absolute change: he was now capable of firing blasts of Qi the size of entire seas, or compressing his lethal Space and Void Laws into a single point, without the slightest risk of his veins bursting from the monumental overload of internal pressure.
The tormentous process halted. The intense golden glow flowing beneath his skin slowly dimmed, merging with his dark primordial dragon scales and the cold, devouring aura of the void.
Samael Morningstar opened his eyes.
Physical space in the immense meditation chamber fractured slightly with the simple act of his breathing. The air fled from him, terrified. His body, forged in absolute suffering up to Stage 6 of the Indestructible Body, and his soul, anchored in the imposing Stage 8 of the Holy Realm, formed an anomaly that the universe was not prepared to sustain.
From this moment on, his physical strikes would carry the conceptual mass of a mountain range, crushing magical artifacts with bare hands. His skin would passively repel foreign elemental laws.
He turned his head to the side. A few meters away, Seraphina was also emerging from her deep trance. His wife had reached equally terrifying epiphanies under the effect of the Enlightenment Tea; the aura of Absolute Frost and the Eternal Lotus surrounding her pulsed with a majesty so icy and perfect that it froze light itself in the air, creating a halo of white immortality around her.
Samael stood up slowly and gracefully. He made no sound as he moved, but his mere presence was a crushing weight that would force false gods to their knees. His body was now the ultimate weapon; his soul, the infinite edge of calamity.
He no longer needed to go out into the outside world to dirty his hands with third-rate sects or fight for crumbs of resources. The pieces of his macabre chess game were arranged with clinical precision on the continental board.
While he ruled from the dark abyss of his palace and took the final steps toward true divinity, his meat grinder, his legion of invisible assassins, iron titans, and power-hungry commanders would take care of the rest. They would be the sword that would plunge into the heart of the current Era, drowning the outside world in an ocean of ash and blood.