Nine Venoms Sect Founder

Even without looking back, Weeping Soul knew precisely who he was dealing with. But when a golden corona formed above the woman's head, with 30, finger-sized lightning bolts swirling within, the Reverend rushed toward the broken ceiling and spun to face that formidable woman. Flowing black hair cascaded over her shoulder, enhancing her luscious curves while striking red eyeshadow gave her alluring eyes a demonic pull. Those eyes ignored Weeping Soul, still fixed on Harun. 

"As Master predicted, she has returned to the Paramita stage already," Weeping Soul noted. Refiners were divided into seven stages, each requiring an increasing amount of golden lightning bolts. At twelve, refiners broke through to the Paramita stage, but needed 108 to reach the Anuttara stage. The next stratum required 1080, and considering that for many, each of those bolt marks represented a Heavenly Tribulation, it comes as no surprise that refiners never replaced cultivators. But for those with tremendous willpower and little talent, this brutal growth method carried tremendous appeal. 

In forgotten times, the red-eyed vixen had reached the refiner equivalent of the Emperor-level, tempered across over 1,000 tribulations. However, thanks to a prehistoric conflict that once made a slaughterhouse of the Heavenly Dream Land, she was attacked post breakthrough and almost robbed of her life.

But as she stared at Harun, with those sparkling eyes hidden behind a mask of seduction, the red-eyed vixen wondered if that past catastrophe wasn't just Heaven's blessing. Walking across the Abyssal River, the lady stepped into the sky, smiled at Harun, and cast a disinterested glance at Weeping Soul. "So, you truly were 27th's accomplice? You can leave if you want to. I've no interest in you," wanting to make a good impression on Harun, the red-eyed lady said, knowing fully well that Weeping Soul wouldn't back off.

"How did you figure it out?" More disturbed by the turn of events than anything, the Reverend probed the truth. Even among the Truth Scrying Grotto's top experts, few knew of Nakula's backup body or its importance for the Golden Crow's future. As mentioned by Golden Cicada, to spend all those eons in the Heavenly Dream Land, Nakula sacrificed much. If nothing else, his status as a gifted disciple of the Myriad Devil Palace wasn't what a low-tier land's God-Emperor could compare to.

Worse, Nakula's raw talent surpassed that of his sword brother, the Heaven Warding Emperor. If not for that, considering the tremendous gap in their houses, they could never meet—much less become close friends. 

Unlike Heaven Warding, who didn't just leave for philanthropic reasons, Nakula had no known purpose in this Land, making many praise his steadfast devotion to brotherly ties. Of course, this was a big load of bullshit. Nakula came for precise goals and wasn't stupid enough to not leave a way out for himself. Thus, long before he landed in the Heavenly Dream Land with his sworn brother, he used the Duality Severing Secret—a dreadful but unpopular art passed onto him by devil royalty. Among other things, it allowed the user to sever pieces of their emotional spectrum to create an incarnation or possess a soulless body. Aware that his orignal body's foundation wouldn't survive the Heavenly Dream Land's "abject" atmosphere and inferior Divine path, Nakula severed his Pride and, unbeknown to the Landgrave Assembly, fused it with their 27th brother, turning him into his incarnation. 

Believing in Refiners' potentials and the 27th Landgrave's foundation, the Golden Crow didn't doubt that this body would one day allow him to catch up to and surpass his original strength—it'd never have the chance. Tilting her head to the left, the red-eyed lady flashed Weeping Soul a half-mocking, half-pitying smile. "You, of course. To be honest, I had no idea that the most reliable of my pet-children had been compromised. Thankfully, the two of you joined hands to plot against me. What a pity that, while you've never shared any direct communication, you two made a petty mistake: the Blood Bubble," the red-eyed lady said—making Weeping Soul's eerie eyes widen in enlightenment. 

The Blood Matron built her pet-children on one principle: hubris. Each new model was stronger and more arrogant than the previous one, making the 27th Landgrave the insufferable monarch of his elder brothers. She used this model so that scorn and resentment filled the Landgraves' ranks. The weaker ones would band together to oppose the stronger models, who in turn would become too proud to form alliances. True unity would never exist—ensuring that besides loving their "mother" or destroying one another, the Landgraves could accomplish nothing. 

Many variables the Blood Matron never anticipated followed. The 1st Landgrave developed genuine brotherly affection. The 25th and 26th became linked to the 27th. But the core principle remained.

"Someone as proud and mighty as the 27th Landgrvae would never seal me personally, and instead drop the task on one of his subordinates. But as Master needed to rig my prison without attracting attention, he directly handled it—thus revealing the flaw she built on," Weeping Soul realized—yet couldn't accept this truth. All along, despite not allowing hubris to ruin his enlightenment, the Reverend believed himself a clever and resourceful man. Why then could he not think of that glaring inconsistency and prevent this result? 

Ashamed, Weeping Soul waved his branches as his eyes narrowed at the Blood Matron. Even if his master had lost his Plan B, the primary targets remained: the Blood Matron's body and soul. As long as he could get those two things, there was not much his master wouldn't forgive. 

Unwilling to get dragged into an even more dangerous clash, Mukri hauled an exhausted Birandar and the meditating Jiyan on his back—then ran as fast and far as he could—leaving Harun to face the two monsters. Activating the Weeping Soul Mantra's most sordid ability, Weeping Soul ignited the tens of thousands of teary-face-shaped fruits crowding his branches. Massive Soul, Grief and Sacrifice Essence gushed out, depleting the stash of sacrifices to carry the Reverend's cultivation and strength to extreme levels.

But while Weeping Soul's battle-power peaked, the Blood Matron raised her right hand, dragging Harun into an orange-red world of rotating, geometric symbols. "Apologies for the gloomy welcome, Harun. I know that you must have much prejudice toward me, but I never wished to harm you, and was just trying to survive. From a survivor to another, I hope that you can understand my predicament," as if reading through Harun's eyes, the Blood Matron started, then stepped aside to let his gaze lock on the obsidian tablet floating at her back. 

"Let's get back to square one, shall we? To show my sincerity, please let me to grant you this gift—free of charge. I believe you will find it most thrilling," she said, and while every word that escaped her red lips tasted like honey, Harun's eyes forgot the Blood Matron, forgot the uncanny setting, and fixed the tablet with maximum intensity. The golden and purple double pupils shone like radiant stars and, against his best judgment, Harun stepped toward the tablet. Blurred drawings of past events and ancient texts covered the stone, describing the incomplete inheritance on which the Blood Matron built all her achievements. 

Harun's eyes ignored that text, locking on words even the Blood Matron couldn't see. 

"As you read this stele, I, we have forgotten the events that led us to this place. I do not wish to throw you into a past that no longer concerns you, but if you don't understand it…how can you survive? This is our story. Please accept it…"

to the Blood Matron's surprise, a golden flash of light shot out of the stele—piercing through Harun's forehead. Subsequently, an ancient tale took shape in Harun's mind.

"73 trillion years have passed since the Devil Ancestor crushed the Void Ancestor to seize the coveted throne of Eternal Sovereign. All along, the Myriad Devil Palace, which he formed to unify the various branches of his colossal empire under a single name, has dominated the omniverse and produced countless talents. Chief among them are the Devil Princes and Princesses, who inherited the most perfect form of their father's invincible blood.

But whererever a group stands, a hierarchy forms and lions emerge. 

73 trillion years after the establishment of the Myriad Devil Palace, the princely hierarchy remained unbroken, with the eldest, firstborn son of the empress, keeping his infernal brothers and sisters on tiptoes. With the princes as the example, the belief that the younger Devils could never outpace their elders polluted the Myriad Devil Palace, leading to the slow-paced decline of talented youths. One boy broke that myth, the sixth and last Devil Prince: Siegfried Konradson. 

Though born from a top-ranking consort, he wasn't the son of the Empress, and therefore didn't have the support of her Preeminent House. Not that it'd matter. The sixth prince broke all of his eldest brother's records, becoming the first besides his father to cultivate jet-black Devil Essence. His mastery over energy was such that he could condense complete armies and worlds out of his Essence alone, and on his 100th birthday, the sixth prince achieved the impossible—reaching the peak of the Devil Road. 

Besides himself with pride, the Devil Ancestor made his 100-year-old son God-Emperor of a coveted Landverse, while also granting him a unique permit to explore other Landverses as he pleased. Thus, though his strength could still not compare to his oldest three siblings, no one doubted that the sixth prince would rise to Ancestor-level, surpass his elders, and become the true successor of his father's profane legacy. What a pity that…"

The tale stopped here, replaced by the cultivation knowledge and inheritance carried by the Stele. If before, such critical knowledge would have filled Harun with joy, those mnemonics now felt like needles pricking his eyes. Furious, Harun threw a punch at the stele. His fist went past it, and to his confusion, Harun landed in a magnificent throne room of imperial jade walls. 

There, several men and women with unfathomable levels of Devil Essence formed lines before the Devil Ancestor. Sitting on the stairs leading to his throne, the Devil Ancestor smiled at the top-ranking members of the Myriad Devil Palace: the princes, princesses, consorts and elders, then declared:

"Beloved ladies and scorned gentlemen, welcome to my last, live imperial decree. I've ruled the omniverse for 73 trillion years, so long that even my infallible memory barely remembers my mortal years. By now, there isn't a single depravity—known or unknown—that I haven't tested so…I'm taking my girls and I'm out! Siegfried, you're the emperor now."