Chapter 11: The Great Investment and the Foundations of War
The toxic smoke and frigid mist slowly dissipated in the Mist Valley, revealing the fresh ruins of a battle won through blood, fire, and incomprehensible power.
The mutilated bodies of the elite Valois army lay scattered across the central plaza and the mountain slopes, like broken pieces of a deranged chess game. For the thirty-seven disciples of the Morningstar Clan, the reality of the loot before their eyes was overwhelming. In a matter of hours, they had gone from being exiles in absolute misery to possessing the resources of an elite noble vanguard.
Samael, still bare-chested with his new skin gleaming under the pale morning sun's first rays, sheathed the massive Odachi of the Ravenous Eclipse on his back.
"Gather everything," Samael ordered. His voice, though tired after pushing his newborn Dragon Physique, resonated with absolute authority. "Armors, sabers, spatial rings, boots, scrolls. If it shines, it's ours. If it doesn't shine, it's ours too. Do not leave a single spiritual stone on the corpses of that scum."
The disciples, still trembling from the brutality of the massacre, obeyed. They initially moved slowly, but soon a mix of disbelief and euphoria took over. Some laughed nervously as they stripped the enemy captains of their breastplates; others simply wept in silence as they held Earth Grade weapons worth more than everything they had seen in their short lives.
"Is this... real?" whispered a fourteen-year-old disciple, stroking the gleaming edge of a heavy ice armor belonging to the Valois guard.
"It is now, kid," Kael replied, passing by with a half-smile and his ribs firmly bandaged. "Get used to the weight of steel."
Elders and youth worked side by side in the macabre task. The air smelled strongly of blood, burnt metal, and, for the first time in years, a renewed hope.
In less than an hour, the loot was piled in the center of the main crater:
50 Armors and Weapons ranging from High Mortal Grade to Low Earth Grade. 50 Storage Bags and Minor Rings filled with basic recovery pills, military manuals, and several thousand low and mid-grade spiritual stones.
Samael gathered the thirty-seven disciples around the mountain of resources. Elders Marcus, Livia, Torian, and Sela supervised the formation. Their auras, freshly stabilized at Stage 1 of the Transcendent Realm thanks to the previous night's pills, vibrated with a power that demanded respect. Grand Elder Lilith, with her Stage 4 Transcendent aura, guarded the perimeter from the shadows—a silent promise of death to any spy.
Samael inhaled the cold morning air deeply. For an infinite moment, he felt the physical weight of every gaze fixed upon him. He saw devotion, reverential fear, blind faith, and the desperation of those who had lost everything.
What if I fall in the next assault? Samael thought. I cannot be everywhere. If the Valois bring a Saint, my current power won't be enough to protect them all. They have to become monsters in their own right.
The doubt was instantly drowned by the iron will of his bloodline. He activated the Patriarch System in his mind.
"All this equipment goes immediately into the Morningstar Clan's treasury. Dress and arm yourselves. Whatever is left, store it for the reserves," Samael decreed aloud, channeling the intention of gifting all that loot to his people.
[DING!]
[Massive Investment Event Detected.]
[Recipient: Morningstar Clan (37 Disciples and 4 Elders).]
[Multiplier Applied: x50 (Due to massive quantity and critical tactical need).]
[Congratulations, Host! Generating Patriarch Cashback...]
[Reward Granted: Clan Facility - "Absolute Gravity Training Pagoda" (Architectural Blueprints and High Earth Grade Formation Core).]
Core Effect: Upon installation, it creates an adjustable pressure field ranging from 2x to 10x the gravity of the Lower World. Ideal for purifying Qi in the blood, breaking physical bottlenecks, and consolidating cultivation realms at a monstrous speed.
Samael did not wait. He extracted the Formation Core from his inventory. It was a heavy, dark bronze orb, covered in runes that seemed to absorb light. He threw it into the center of the crater, next to the loot.
THUD!
The orb embedded itself in the stone. Immediately, a dense golden aura erupted, materializing the illusory structure of a massive three-story pagoda that merged with the mountain rock. The space around the building hummed.
The closest disciples felt the air suddenly become as dense as water. Some fell to their knees, gasping, their bones creaking slightly under a suddenly doubled gravity. But instead of terror, they felt the Qi in their own meridians begin to circulate faster, purifying under the pressure.
"This... this is an architectural miracle," Elder Torian whispered, staring at the building with absolute devotion. "With this... we can forge bodies of steel in weeks instead of years."
"Use it well," Samael ordered. "Whoever doesn't vomit blood training in there isn't worthy of bearing my name."
In the temporary quiet of the main cave, Kael sat on a rock. He was deathly pale, but his golden eyes burned with pride and a lingering pain. His crushing defeat by General Silas hurt his ego more than his broken ribs.
Samael approached his cousin, the sound of his bare footsteps muffled by the stone. In his left hand, he held the glowing, pulsating sphere extracted from the Origin General's corpse: the Wind Essence (High Earth Grade).
"Do not lament falling last night, Kael," Samael said, tossing him the sphere, which Kael barely caught. "Silas had decades of cultivation advantage and a foundation fed by noble resources. You have something better: pure, ruthless talent. And now, you have this."
Kael looked at the emerald sphere. The power roaring inside was torrential, like a tempest trapped in a glass jar. A shiver of anticipation and fear ran down his spine.
"Refine this Spiritual Root and integrate it into your meridians. Bend it to your will. The path ahead will demand a perfect foundation, and your Sword Intent Seed needs an element to be truly lethal."
Kael pressed the sphere to his chest.
"Thank you, Patriarch. I will survive the assimilation. I won't disappoint you again."
The instant Kael closed his eyes and began violently absorbing the stolen essence, the System in Samael's mind flashed with a blinding light.
[DING!]
[Rare Resource Investment (Talent Essence) Detected.]
[Recipient: Kael Morningstar (Loyalty: Absolute).]
[Critical Multiplier Activated: x100.]
[Congratulations, Host! Patriarch Cashback Generated:]
[Divine Concept Item: "Law of the Void Wind" x1.]
Samael felt his mind momentarily dragged into an absolute void. Before his eyes appeared the detailed description of a power that defied the rules of the Mortal Realm, knowledge reserved only for those touching the threshold of the Saint Realm or higher.
[Concept:] The "Wind that does not exist." It is a translucent, distorted current of energy that travels through the very cracks of space. It does not produce the classic sound of whistling air; it emits a static hum that makes the skin crawl and alters reality. [Skill 1 - Nonexistent Gale Slash:] Unleashes gusts invisible to the human eye and Divine Sense. They do not strike with physical force, but rather "suction" matter. Passing through a shield or a body, it causes entire sections to simply disappear, leaving perfect holes with no trace of blood or debris. [Skill 2 - Void Current Step:] The cultivator merges with the wind, becoming immune to friction and gravity. Allows flowing through enemy formations and attacks as if they were smoke. "To be everywhere because you are nowhere."
Samael opened his eyes, his breathing slightly ragged. His left hand trembled with the instinctive desire to fuse that Law with his own Soul immediately. If he combined that with his Odachi, he would be undetectable and invincible.
But the Patriarch's cold mind prevailed over the warrior's greed.
It's too valuable, Samael analyzed. Granting this to a single individual right now would be wasting its long-term potential. A true clan does not stand on the shoulders of a single god, but on a legion of motivated monsters.
Samael smiled, a cold, calculating curve on his lips.
"System. Send the Law of the Void Wind to the Main Storage Vault. This will be the ultimate reward when I establish the Contribution Points Pavilion. The elder or disciple who accumulates enough merit to claim it will become my executing shadow."
The Law vanished into his inventory, waiting patiently for the warrior worthy enough to pay for it with blood and loyalty.
In front of him, Kael let out a muffled grunt. The green storm's energy began to fuse with his meridians, making the cave's shadows dance violently from the air suction. The process was painful, but Kael never stopped smiling.
Hours later, Samael and Seraphina walked across the deck of the massive Valois Warship, now formally under their control. The Iron Falcon floated silently a few meters above the valley floor.
Seraphina, who had managed to stabilize at Stage 3 of the Qi Sea Realm thanks to the valley's dense spiritual environment, cast her critical gaze over the dark wood masts and heavy artillery cannons. She didn't have access to the memories of her past life as an Empress, but her innate intuition and strategically superior mind allowed her to see the flaws that the Northern nobles considered "cutting-edge technology."
"It's a robust military model, undoubtedly," the platinum-haired young woman decreed, caressing the barrel of a siege weapon. "Resilient and with a good payload capacity. But it's clumsy. Its flight array is primitive; it wastes almost thirty percent of the spiritual stones generating heat instead of propulsion. And these cannons... they would scare bandits or minor beasts, but against an Origin Realm expert, they are too slow to lock onto a target."
Samael nodded, resting his hand on the ironwood hull. He tried to connect the System to see if he could force an evolution on the ship, but the option required resources and flying beast cores they did not possess.
"It will serve us, Lady Seraphina. We won't use it to fight the imperial fleet head-on," Samael said. "We will use it to move fast and disappear. The disciples are already scrubbing the blood off the deck and painting our emblem over the Valois falcon. As of tonight, this wooden beast will be our mobile home."
In the background, some disciples listened to the conversation while scrubbing the deck. They exchanged glances that mixed awe with a paralyzing fear. Were they really about to abandon the only refuge they knew to sail the continental skies as a renegade force?
At nightfall, the temperature dropped sharply. Under the light of the ship's spiritual crystals, the command deck became the war room of the Morningstar Clan.
Samael, flanked by Seraphina, Kael, and Grand Elder Lilith, spread an old, worn map of the continent over the navigation table.
"We won a crucial battle, that is undeniable," Samael began, his tone devoid of any triumphalism. "But total war is, for the moment, beyond our reach. The Valois are a Grade 7 Family. They possess lands, armies, and a Half-Saint Ancestor in the Northern capital."
Lilith, her stern face illuminated by the crystal light, added weight to her nephew's words.
"And make no mistake, the strength of the Valois does not lie solely in their own cultivators," the Grand Elder said, pointing to the immense expanse of northern territory on the map. "There are dark rumors. Duke Alaric is backed by shadows in the Northern Empire that not even the royal scouts dare to investigate thoroughly. If we march toward the northern border right now, we will be annihilated by forces we do not yet understand before we can even see their city walls."
An oppressive silence fell over the cabin. The Elders present felt the true magnitude of the threat. Some clenched their fists in pure helplessness; others averted their gaze to the floor.
Elder Torian, always the most pragmatic, broke the silence.
"But we can't entrench ourselves in the Mist Valley forever either. General Silas and his crew won't report back. When Duke Valois confirms their disappearance, he won't send another ship; he will send the entire armada or come down personally."
Samael nodded. With a swift, decisive motion, he slammed his black dagger into the lower edge of the map, far to the south, crossing borders and mountain ranges until it struck a vast grayish-white stain.
"That is why we leave tonight," Samael declared. "We are heading to the Dragon Bone Desert."
The elders stifled gasps of surprise. The name alone inspired terror.
"That territory is no man's land, a colossal tomb," Lilith warned, frowning. "Legends say its dunes aren't made of sand, but formed by the crushed bones of primordial beasts that perished in wars forgotten by the heavens. The desert devours entire clans and harbors monsters humanity prefers to ignore."
"And that is exactly why no one will look for us there," Samael replied, his golden eyes shining with a feverish light of ambition. "It's the ideal place to wipe ourselves off the continental map. We will install the Gravity Pagoda in the deepest ruins we find. No one, absolutely no one, will set foot in civilized lands again until every disciple is, at minimum, a Transcendent, and you, Elders, have broken your current limits. And I... I will use that hell to find a way to break the barrier to the Origin Realm."
Kael, with the cold sweat of the wind assimilation still on his forehead, raised his hand weakly.
"And what about Violet and Eris, Patriarch?"
Samael shifted his gaze toward the door of the ship's medical cabin, where the twins rested under strict formation seals cast by Elder Livia. The stress of the battle and the resonance with Samael's bloodline evolution had triggered their Taboo Red Destiny, plunging them into a forced, feverish hibernation; their mortal bodies refused to collapse, but they couldn't wake up either.
"They are coming with us, of course," Samael answered, his voice turning softer, almost protective. "The Desert is a death trap, but such an extreme ecosystem is also the cradle for resources that exist nowhere else. Its sands hide herbs and crystals of primordial Yang attributes. We will find what we need to stabilize their bodies and awaken their Destiny... without them dying in the process."
In the shadows of his mind, the System whispered with its cold digital logic:
[Route Alert: Destination selected: Dragon Bone Desert.]
[Environment Analysis: Presence of ancestral beasts (Origin to Saint Realm) and chaotic spatial energy fluctuations. Probability of lethal encounters for the current expedition: 89%.]
Samael smiled. The pressure of leadership burned in his chest like a red-hot coal, but he felt alive, more alive than he had been in both his lives.
"Then... we will just have to make sure we are more lethal and ruthless than the desert itself."
At dawn, the Morningstar Clan gathered on the deck of the repainted ship. The disciples, clad in the captured armor and gripping cold steel, looked up at the bow with a mix of sacred respect and dread. They saw their Patriarch not just as a leader, but as an incarnate emblem of victory and incalculable risk.
"As of today, we cease to be a hunted and broken family," Samael declared, his black cape fluttering in the dawn currents. "Today we plant the seed of our empire in exile. No one will hand us glory. No one will weep for us. Everything we achieve from now on, we will rip from the throats of our enemies with our own bare hands."
Lilith, standing tall and firm at his side, hoisted the massive Beast King's War Banner. The crimson fabric rippled, bathing the deck in an aura of unbreakable strength.
"For the Morningstars!" roared the Grand Elder.
The answering shout rose to the heavens. It was a young, desperate roar, but charged with an iron will. The warship creaked, its Qi engines roared, and it set sail swiftly toward the south, leaving behind a valley of smoking ashes and broken promises, heading toward a future that would be forged in fire and blood.
Far away, on the dark, frigid plains of the North, the wind carried the silent echoes of the drums of war.
The true enemy had opened its eyes. And it was already watching them.