Ignatius floated into the air as crimson mana spread from the crystal core in his chest, crawling across his body like countless fine blood vessels. His eyes had turned completely blood-red, his pupils vanishing to be replaced by two swirling masses of dark red flame.
On the ground below, the bodies of every Blood Moon Cultist had already burst apart. Their blood, mana, and vitality were completely absorbed by the barrier, leaving not even a bone behind.
The dark red light curtain suddenly expanded several times over, completely obscuring the sky that had still been faintly visible. The entire academy was enveloped in a suffocating, dark red gloom.
Ignatius looked down at the empty staffs and the red robes scattered across the ground, a trace of indiscernible emotion flickering in his eyes.
These people were the most loyal members of the cult; many had endured alongside him for twenty years. According to the original plan, they were supposed to remain alive after the sacrifice. Once the Blood Moon God descended, all their sacrifices would have been rewarded—a seat in the new world, eternal life, and the glory of being with the god.
He had promised them these things, and he truly intended to fulfill them.
But things were different now.
His gaze involuntarily fell upon the youth in the cyan robe. He still couldn't see through him; from the beginning until now, he had never been able to gauge this man.
In his eyes, the youth before him was a complete void—even the faint perception of life force that an ordinary person would possess was practically nonexistent. If one perceived this person using any method other than their eyes, the feedback would be just one thing: nothingness.
Yet this was the person who, with a single palm strike—a strike that wasn't even magic—had slapped him and over thirty cultists into the ground.
The variables were too great, far exceeding the limits of what he could control. If he followed the original plan and allowed the cultists to stay alive to complete the blood sacrifice, it would take at least another half a quarter-hour.
Half a quarter-hour—that was enough time for the youth before him to turn fifty years of planning and that half a quarter-hour into nothing but a dream. To prevent such a thing from happening and to avoid repeating the failure of fifty years ago, he had resorted to the most extreme method, one he had hoped never to use.
He had sacrificed every cultist in the academy to bring about the god's descent.
Was it worth it? Yes! As long as the Blood Moon God descended, every sacrifice was worth it... The wrath of the Ranchiloko Dynasty would descend upon every person in the kingdom.
He withdrew his gaze and stopped thinking about it, slowly raising his head to look toward the distance. It was the direction of the royal palace, the direction of the entire capital of Kajinson—the hatred accumulated over hundreds of years finally surged in his eyes without restraint.
Fifty years ago, he was still young. He wasn't the head of the cult back then, just an ordinary cultist survivor whom Hogg had looked down upon. Fifty years was enough time for him to become a different person, but that anger and hatred had been preserved in its entirety.
“The revenge of the Ranchiloko Dynasty begins here!”
His raspy voice drifted down from the air, his tone so suppressed it felt as if he were gritting his teeth through every word, yet the volume was loud enough for everyone below to hear clearly.
The faces of the people below changed instantly. Hogg’s hand tightened around his staff. The Ranchiloko Dynasty—that was... a nation destroyed five hundred years ago. He had seen the name in the history books of the royal library—a nation completely obliterated by the kingdom and the gods.
Crimson mana erupted from the crystal core in Ignatius's chest, wrapping around his body like a living thing. The mana condensed faster and faster, its range expanding until it formed a massive crimson mana cocoon within dozens of seconds.
The surface of the cocoon throbbed continuously, as if something were growing frantically inside. Each throb was accompanied by the bone-chilling sound of skeletal shifting echoing from within.
The air began to turn thick. The surrounding ruins of buildings crumbled into rubble under the pressure of this mana, and even the dark red light curtain overhead trembled violently.
Then, the barrier shattered.
The dark red light curtain cracked in all directions from the top like shattered glass. Countless fragments turned into crimson motes of light in the air, pouring down like a torrential rain.
They were all sucked back into the rapidly expanding mana cocoon. The moment the light motes merged with it, the brightness of the cocoon's surface spiked, dyeing everything in the vicinity blood-red.
The mana cocoon exploded.
A massive figure, three meters tall, stepped out from the shattered mana radiance. Pure crimson swirled within its eyes—no pupils, no emotion, only endless killing intent and hatred.
The Incarnation of the Blood Moon God!
Hogg’s expression became extremely grave in an instant. The mana fluctuations radiating from that incarnation far exceeded anything he had ever seen—it wasn't at the Heroic Spirit rank, but a power far transcending it... the power of a god. It was undoubtedly a power that only gods could possess, even if it was just an incarnation.
The incarnation roared at the sky.
The shriek was so sharp it made one’s eardrums ache. The sound waves expanded outward in a visible form, causing the building ruins they passed to tremble. Along with the sound waves, something even more terrifying spread—violent demonic qi. It was formless and intangible, yet it could instantly ignite the deepest hatred and bloodlust in anyone who came into contact with it.
In an instant, Setis felt a nameless fire flare up in her chest. She wanted to kill—she wanted to kill everyone around her, she wanted to kill herself, she wanted to kill every living thing she could see.
Her hand tightened around her staff uncontrollably. Her remaining sanity allowed her to use her last bit of strength to slam the staff into the ground to keep from swinging it.
Around her, Tyris and Marcus were choking each other, their eyes bloodshot. The female ice-element teacher was curled on the ground, slamming her head against the stone slabs and letting out incoherent roars. Several lower-year students were already brawling, tearing at each other with teeth and nails.
Hogg bit his lip, using the pain and two hundred years of willpower to forcibly suppress the surging killing intent, but even his hand holding the staff was trembling.
If the professionals were like this, the ordinary people fared even worse.
This aura radiated outward with the academy as its center, quickly spreading to the Outer City, the Inner City, and the royal palace—the entire capital fell into chaos at the same moment.
On the streets, civilians who had been helping each other escape suddenly began to fight. The city guards and Imperial Guards who were fighting the remaining Blood Moon Cultists simultaneously saw red and began to attack indiscriminately. Even the nobles and servants deep within the palace exploded with long-suppressed resentment the moment the violent demonic qi descended.
Cries, curses, and the clashing of blades intertwined. Under that single long roar, the entire capital had fallen into a state of paralysis.
Rate on N.U.
