NOVEL NEXT Chapter 523: The Blood Gate Awakens
Ethan had been shaken to his core. He had to admit, Micah's grand array was far stronger than he had imagined. Micah once claimed it could withstand a Saint-rank expert's full-force assault for half an hour. Now, Ethan realized Micah had undersold it. The impact that had just struck the array had clearly exceeded the power of any Saint-rank attack he had ever witnessed. Thankfully, it wasn't a direct strike from a Voidbreaker.
Inside the formation, Ethan noticed blood splattered near the conduits that fed energy into the array. The ones stationed there had been pulverized instantly, leaving nothing behind but stains. Those outside the conduits, however, had survived, which was at least some small relief. He assumed the other conduits had suffered the same fate. Even so, it meant a thousand lives had been lost in an instant.
All of them were prominent figures from Clearspring City. Ethan caught Baelor Wane's face among them, twisted in grief, though grief was quickly giving way to mutiny. The survivors were muttering, voices rising, refusing to return to the conduits to power the array.
"You've only lost a handful compared to what others have endured! The Forgotten City has already sacrificed thousands! If you don't want to die right here, get back into those conduits!" Ethan's voice cut through the air, amplified with Soul Sense so it carried into the mind of every person within the formation.
The muttering stopped at once. Silence spread, broken only by scowls and smoldering resentment. Ethan didn't care. Feelings mattered little when survival was at stake. He saw this entire trial as a way to scour the Sea of Death clean. When the bloodshed ended, those who survived—bound together by loss and desperation—would have forged a bond that nothing could break.
Clearspring City had been the lifeblood of the desert, but instead of sharing its gift, it had used its hold on water to strangle everyone else. Once, people had called the Windspirit Faction vampires for draining the resources of the other three cities. Ethan no longer agreed with that assessment. Compared to Clearspring's schemes, the Windspirit Faction had only bled the powerful. Clearspring had cut off underground rivers in secret, inflating the price of water while throwing the entire desert into a spiraling drought.
People died every day. Even magical beasts perished from thirst. Ethan's mind was set: this blight needed to be burned away before he left.
At his command, the people of Clearspring reluctantly drew lots to determine who would step into the conduits next. Ethan watched with a thin smile curling across his lips.
'Enjoy your borrowed time while you can.'
His gaze shifted toward the Blood Clan's side of the battlefield. The crimson pillar of light, drained pale moments ago, was pulsing with color once more. Two streams fed it: one erupting upward from the wounded Serpent-Turtle beneath their feet, the other bleeding from a triangular, blood-red portal hanging in the air. The upward flow was the beast's lifeblood. But the portal… that was something else.
Energy spilled from it in torrents, energy not of this world. It was raw, alien, and powerful enough to drive the Blood Clan's ascension. The portal wasn't even fully open yet. Ethan remembered the Infernal Hound's warning: once it was, true powerhouses of the Blood Clan would march through.
Even half-sealed, the portal had already disgorged horrors—the towering axe-wielders Ethan had fought before. Four meters tall, misshapen, monstrous, yet each was as strong as a mid-stage War God. If those were merely foot soldiers, what kind of civilization lay beyond? A people who could field endless armies of such strength could conquer entire worlds. Ethan forced his focus back to the portal itself. Perfectly triangular, its three corners glowed with orbs of light—white, black, and blue. He reached into his Mindscape and shared the vision with Beastie.
"Beastie, look," Ethan murmured. "Tell me I'm not wrong. Are those the City Lord's Seals?"
"Yes, Master!" Beastie's reply was sharp and certain. Ethan's suspicions were confirmed.
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"You little worm, come out if you dare!" The mocking voice cut through his thoughts. Ethan looked up. The Infernal Hound was standing a thousand yards from the Blood Clan's array, lips peeled back over jagged teeth.
"Hmph. You want me? Then come here yourself!" A man in Windspirit Faction robes stood at the array's edge, a smirk twisting his face.
"Borrowed power, nothing more. What's there to gloat about? Fight me properly if you have any pride!" The hound roared, but stayed rooted where it stood. One of its eyes was swollen shut, a fresh injury from their last clash. Ethan understood at once: the Voidbreaker expert hadn't driven it back with his own strength, but with the array's.
The man offered no retort. Instead, he turned and walked back into the formation. The blood energy swirling inside wasn't thick enough yet to conceal him from Ethan's gaze. He saw the man descend toward the blood surging from the Serpent-Turtle's wound, then sit cross-legged above it. At once, the blood began to churn and boil.
A piercing cry echoed from the north. The ground trembled, shaking under the Serpent-Turtle's agony. The old monster was draining the beast's life, bleeding it dry. The battlefield slipped back into stalemate. The Infernal Hound wouldn't dare approach the Blood Clan's array, and the Blood Clan was content to bide their time. But time was not on Ethan's side.
"Bongo, how much longer until you can thaw the Serpent-Turtle's heart completely?" Ethan asked, glancing at the Dragon-Phoenix.
Bongo tilted her head. "And what good would thawing its heart do?"
"The Serpent-Turtle's greatest strength is its body, and its ability to heal," Dragon Child interjected smoothly. "Once its heart thaws, the wound they carved open will close in minutes."
Ethan nodded. So that was the game. Everyone was buying time, and whoever held out longest would win. But allowing the Blood Clan to gorge themselves on the Serpent-Turtle's blood meant giving strength to the portal. That couldn't continue. His eyes narrowed. If no one else would act, he would.
A twelfth-tier beast had the might of a Voidbreaker at his peak. That man had borrowed the array's power to repel the Infernal Hound, but he couldn't both maintain the portal and guard against an attack. If Ethan could harass him, disrupt his focus, even for a short while, it might be enough. He wasn't sure if his current strength was sufficient, but if not, he would risk using Shatterstar. At the very least, he needed to test the true limits of his power. It had been too long since he had fought a real opponent. The Saints had been beneath him. This would be different.
Without hesitation, Ethan's form blurred. He shot toward the crimson grand array like a streak of light.
Bongo and Dragon Child did not stop him. They only watched, worry flickering in their eyes. For Dragon Child, though, worry was mingled with a strange exhilaration, as though she were watching a play she could not look away from.
"Do you think… he can do it?" Bongo asked quietly.
"Take out the 'do you think,'" Dragon Child replied with a smile that carried absolute certainty.
But even so, Bongo—the Dragon-Phoenix, Southern Beast Spirit, couldn't silence the doubt curling in her chest.