A Heart of a Demon Remains Resolute in the Face of All

CG Chapter 126: A Heart of a Demon Remains Resolute in the Face of All

He wanted to create a bloodline that wasn't restricted within his mortal coil, but one that resided within his soul and could travel with him to the next worlds.

With it, even if he lost most of his powers when he reincarnated into a new body, he would simply need to use the power of his bloodline to retrieve what he had lost.

And even if it took him some time to do that, it certainly was faster than rebuilding that multi-story pagoda from the ground up each time.

But forming such a bloodline was no easy feat, and having such enormous energy was just the first part.

The next crucial step he would need to take was to gather energy from a similar blood source to his own and then refine that blood into the purest form of a bloodline.

Having only a single person who carried your bloodline was beneficial in many ways.

One of the most crucial aspects was that you couldn't get cursed through the bloodline link, and people couldn't trace your location through it.

Luckily for him, due to his long journey through the myriad worlds, he had more than enough blood bags to draw from to form his bloodline.

Through this world source, and with the help of the fragment of Samsara, he could connect to all of them and reclaim what was originally his.

As he was about to start the connection, he thought of a final saying he had heard long ago:

"Without eyes, the person doesn't see. Without a heart, the person doesn't exist. The blood of the selfish lives on into generations, while the blood of the kind dies out."

'The blood of the selfish lives on' meant that we all are the descendants of people who valued themselves over others. Thus, we are the spawn of selfishness.

"Moved by heart, not the mind, are the foolish. The wise are detached. To die in stone, to live on is to live for oneself."

That part represented that despite how noble people wanted to act, their true reason for existence stemmed in one way or another from a selfish cause.

To be completely detached from all living things, to understand the suffering of the masses and then face them head-on, yet despite understanding, refusing to care, was extremely hard.

Because instead of simply turning your head away, you choose to watch on and understand with an open heart, but still choose your mind over your heart each time.

That is why, despite knowing the pain and anguish he was about to cause to his own flesh and blood descendants, to his sons, grandsons, and once family, he was ready to face all of it head-on.

With his blood-soaked hand digging deep into the tree, he reached toward the world's core, and as he felt the heat radiating from it, he didn't hesitate for a second to grab it.

When he held the smoldering core with his mortal hand, he started to feel as if his hand was freezing, melting, and rebuilding at every moment.

Still, he simply pulled it forcefully, knowing that it was nothing compared to the pain he was about to go through.

"With my name as the progenitor of black and rotten wood, I call unto me before I call unto thee. As we had once granted thee life, we now take what we had given thee."

Creek! Crack! Boom!

The body of Aretius began to fracture as he started to get grounded into dust.

Starting from his head and eyes, his entire body slowly disintegrated until nothing remained but ashes.

His Soul Sea started to boil. For a second, time stopped, and in the next, something that wasn't supposed to happen occurred: the hidden floating stone piece within his soul began to melt.

The process of having his body and soul crushed into pieces was something that would have broken anyone mentally.

Every second felt like thousands of years.

He felt like he was being stabbed continuously while being boiled in magmatic water.

The anguish made even Aretius feel like giving up, and the thought of surrender crossed his mind. The sweet relief of true death and leaving everything behind, the bloodshed, the unending journey, and the scheming were too much.

Tick-Tock!

Sensing his hesitation in his current illusory form, Aretius couldn't help but laugh at himself.

What kind of pain hadn't he already faced? What kind of anguish hadn't he already gone through? What new pain could he experience that he hadn't already endured?

Even if this pain was multiplied a hundredfold, he didn't plan on giving up. The only way to stop him would be by crushing his soul. And even then, he would try to claw his way back.

Thinking of that, he noticed that the same thing was happening to the world core, the hands of the gods, and the shaman.

The only thing taking their place was a disgusting lump of blood and flesh, forming in the shape of a giant dark purple egg. Its membrane started to pulse as it nurtured the life form within.

At the same time, thousands of thin strings stretched out of the egg, out of Eldervale, and through the space of the starry sky.

As if by some supreme rule, a single string reached every world Aretius stepped into, no matter how long or short his stay was.

After reaching a world, the already thin string would somehow split into smaller pieces. And using the connection of blood, they reached every person who carried the blood of Aretius.

The strings didn't see gender, age, or anything else. No matter how far or close the blood connection was, as long as they carried his blood, the string would reach out toward them, wrapping around them and taking what belonged to him.

That day, in those worlds, would be remembered as a day of suffering, where people's wives, husbands, and sons died without any cause or explanation.

This went as far as some worlds having their entire populations exterminated.

…

In one world, a young boy who was playing outside his small village with other kids was joyously laughing in happiness, wishing that this moment could stretch on forever, not knowing what was coming.

Swoosh!

The strings wrapped around their necks and bodies, and the sound of the string breaking through their tender flesh could be heard.

"What is going on…" a beautiful-looking young girl screamed, trying to rip the string around her neck away.

But before she could scream for long, a loud crisp sound spread as her head twisted at a strange angle.

In the next second, her broken body hung in the air before falling down, with no trace of her beauty or elegance to be seen.

"What is happening?!" another kid shouted before having a string around his own body.

The string had thrust into different parts of his body, cutting him into multiple pieces and twisting his organs from the inside.

The kid couldn't think for long as his body had turned into a single mangled pile. But instead of the red color it was supposed to have, it had a gray, lifeless color to it.

The young boy who was just playing a moment ago screamed too, and the screams spread through the entire village, kingdom, and world.

"Ahhhhhh!!"

The young boy let out a loud cry of struggle and anguish, his tears flowing from unimaginable pain.

Luckily for him, his suffering didn't last much longer, as his body was split into multiple pieces, with each limb flying in a different direction.

His right hand was in one place, his left hand in another, and even his legs.

At that moment, the young boy with his mutilated body looked like a broken puppet that had been shattered carelessly while being played with.

The pain they felt stunned them at first before shaking in fear as they struggled in agony.

The tender skin of the children was the fastest to get pierced through, as their blood was being drained while they were still alive.

Aretius, inside the membrane, laughed coldly. Despite feeling the same pain they felt, no, the pain he felt was much greater, as he felt the suffering and fear of each one of his descendants.

Yet he simply continued to use his powers to extract their energies, not even forgetting the two people in Eldervale capital, as he absorbed their energies all the same.

The string pierced through another woman's chest, one who was preparing food for her child and husband, and through her heart.

The horrified woman was frightened as her pupils dilated in fear, feeling the cold breath of death breathing down her neck.

Gahhg!

She coughed out blood from her mouth as she helplessly tried to hold her chest, while her eyes shook in fear, not knowing where to run to or from where to seek help.

With a loud sound, the woman's entire body stayed still for a second, as her skeleton collapsed onto her organs. She exploded into thousands of tiny pieces and her body covered the entire kitchen.

A moment ago, the young boy, the woman, the girl, and many more lived their lives happily. And the next, without warning or any kind of alarm, they turned into corpses.

Some had their bodies explode. Others turned into ashes and spread with the wind.

The only thing that they shared was that despite their beauty in life, they were now nothing more than cold bodies and names that no one remembered.

…

Inside the shattered core realm of Eldervale, the energy of the gods and the core had been completely drained.

From the purple egg, a new being began to emerge into the pitch-black void. It possessed the combined characteristics of Aretius, the seven gods, and the Heavenly Will.

It took on a tiny spiritual form, curling around itself to hold its body together as it peacefully slept inside a protective cocoon.

This cocoon was the shuttle that Aretius used to travel through countless worlds.

But strangely, the once unchanging cocoon's appearance had somehow transformed after what had happened. However, it remained unknown whether that was a good or bad thing.

The cocoon moved like a traveling star toward its next destination.

At the same time, deep within his Soul Sea, many things had changed.

Aretius's true form now resided in front of a white and black tree.

A man with freely flowing white hair, skin whiter than snow, and eyes that twinkled like violet diamonds.

Flying around his body was a purple beast that resembled a mix of a phoenix, an eastern dragon, and some strange creature in between.

Additionally, something new had emerged. A gate that looked extremely ancient, yet bore a simple feel, like the door to a commoner's home.

As for Eldervale, Aretius didn't care for the worlds he had destroyed or the empire that was shattering along with the crumbling world.

The journey of a demon never ends.

…

Hummm!

In a realm immeasurably distant from the place where Aretius now treads…

A single flute's melody drifted across the air, soft, slow, and sorrowful.

It danced upon the winds like a wandering immortal's sigh, beautiful enough to stir the hearts of ghosts, yet sorrowful enough to cause gods to weep.

Those who heard it would first smile in reverie, their souls swept away in bliss.

Then, they would kneel and beg, beg the musician to stop.

Not because the melody was unpleasant… but because it carried too much.

Too much grief. Too much longing. Too much despair.

The man who was singing held an elegant jade flute. Strangely, despite the flute's expensive appearance, he simply wore a black and tattered Hanfu.

An old yellowish gourd with engravings of clouds, earth, fire, and leaves hung from his right side.

The man grabbed the gourd to drink the cold liquid within, hoping to forget his sorrows.

Unfortunately, the liquid did not seem to have any effect, as the painful emotions in the music only grew stronger.

From his left side hung a shackled skull that was broken in many places.

A red thousand-legged centipede entered from one eye only to exit from the other as it continued to dig new holes and break more bones.

But that was not the most interesting aspect, as the holes continuously mended themselves.

From afar, it looked like that cycle would keep on going forever.

The man was singing, drinking from the gourd, taking a bite from the dry bread, and the skull was being broken.

But that tranquility did not last for long. It was shattered by a hoarse, old voice.

"My, my lord…. please make it stop already… please show mercy. Please, I beg you, just shatter my soul and let me be free. I don't even wish to reincarnate."

The broken voice of the old man came from the skull, sounding completely exhausted.

The man didn't reply as he held a wooden stick that appeared out of nowhere in his right hand and played with two fishes that were swimming around each other.

"You know that I cannot do that. But you should be happy that I have found an interesting fellow."

One fish was black, and the other was white, forming the appearance of Tai Chi.

The scene of the two fishes swimming looked harmonious, but at the same time, it looked like the two fishes wanted to bite at each other's tails.

However, they could not, due to them keeping a constant speed.

After continuing to play with the fishes for a bit, the man's sight flickered as he stood up.

Chuckling, he said, "It seems that a new Thearch is about to be born."

With that, he walked into the horizon.

Only the sound of the flute remained, echoing through time.

Haunting and eternal.

…

Even farther away, so far that distance itself forgot how to measure, there existed a colossal circus.

The loud and manic sound of a clown joyously laughing shook the entire tent.

Across from him sat a child with big eyes and an innocent face.

They were playing a card game.

[THE END OF VOL.2: CRIMSON SWORD]