Chapter Twelve: The Ghostly Mask

Scorching flames rushed towards him. The snowflakes on Xueji's hilt floated up as if they were real, forming a shield to block the fierce flames, but it also meant losing the opportunity to attack.

The strike missed. The enraged lizard stomped again, but Li Ao evaded with a sideways roll. The shockwave hit his back, forcing another mouthful of blood from his lips.

The lizard straightened up, towering over the resilient prey below. Now, it felt a hint of regret. Flame Burst was an energy-draining skill, and even consuming this boy wouldn't replenish the energy it had spent in this battle. The only consolation was that it could finally devour the boy now.

Numbness, pain, and weakness—that's all Li Ao felt. What he thought would be a fatal blow had been easily blocked by a mere spark from this giant lizard. He had given his all.

Now, all he could do was close his eyes and wait for the judgment of fate. He hadn't expected to die on his quest for vengeance; instead, he would become this giant reptile's meal. Li Ao tried to force a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth, but after a tremor in his muscles, he realized he couldn't even manage that.

The lizard eyed the boy who had given up struggling, then glanced at the white sword that had fallen nearby. It opened its massive jaws once more.

The stench was overwhelming, and its giant tongue scraped across Li Ao's face—this time, there would be no escape. Li Ao's expression was rigid; he could no longer control his facial muscles.

So, this is how it ends.

Li Ao thought quietly to himself, but the sense of unwillingness gnawed at him. It was so bitter, so unbearable.

He still had a deep blood feud to settle.

The Church had killed his parents, his grandfather, destroyed his home, and slaughtered his clan. One by one, his friends and family had fallen beside him, becoming cold, lifeless bodies. And now, he too was about to die.

But the Church had yet to pay the price, especially that detestable man called Kushazi. The blood debt had not been repaid in kind.

He thought of the words he had spoken to his grandfather, the chief, the care and expectations of his parents, and the woman who had bravely faced death in the alley. Tears flowed down his cheeks.

He had failed them. He had failed everyone.

"Do you seek revenge?"

A cold, emotionless voice echoed in the void, sending a chill through Li Ao. He shuddered involuntarily.

"Who's there!?" Li Ao demanded, alarmed.

"Do you seek revenge?"

The voice ignored his question, repeating its earlier words like a programmed machine, with not even a hint of change in its tone.

Hearing the question, Li Ao hesitated no longer. He spoke his wish without hesitation:

"Yes!"

Who cared who or what it was, as long as it could keep him alive, nothing else mattered.

"Put on the mask, and you will succeed," the indifferent voice continued after receiving Li Ao's firm answer.

"The mask?" Li Ao echoed, and then quickly remembered the eerie mask—the one his grandfather, the chief, had called the clan's most powerful legacy. The mask had a seductive, corrupting power, a dangerous artifact by any measure.

But did he have a choice?

If he had to choose between death and damnation, he would choose the latter without a second thought.

"How do I put on the mask?" Li Ao asked, confused. The giant lizard would eat him in the next moment; there was no time to retrieve it from his ring.

"At any time," the voice answered, cold and emotionless, almost mechanical in its delivery.

At any time?

Li Ao was puzzled. Then, a thought occurred to him—where was he?

Looking around, he saw nothing but darkness. When he looked down, he noticed a different color—a red, a strange and ominous red.

These red patterns twisted and swirled in a dazzling array, tempting and enchanting. Li Ao bent down, reaching out to touch the red markings. As he picked them up, he realized that these were the markings of the mask, the blood-marked ghostly mask that had bewitched his mind.

Staring at the mask in his hand, Li Ao hesitated no longer. He resolutely placed it on his face.

Having inherited this power, he knew that damnation was his inevitable fate. But Li Ao had no choice left. It was only at this moment that he understood the meaning behind his chief's last, muttered words.

He would have his revenge, Even if his hands were stained with blood, Even if the world turned its back on him, Even if he descended into the abyss, Even if he fell into the darkest depths of hell, He would have his revenge!

The only thought left in his mind was to survive—to avenge his family. Revenge had become his obsession, a twisted belief that drove him. He couldn't die before fulfilling it.

The mask was slightly large, but it fit Li Ao's face with an inexplicable harmony. It was a fusion of temperament; the once sunny youth was long gone. What emerged from the ruins of his clan was a vengeful ghost.

Through the hollow eyes of the mask, Li Ao's dark blue eyes gleamed brightly. The blood-red patterns that adorned the mask only made him appear more mysterious, more eerie.

An unknown force flowed from the mask into Li Ao's body, recharging his depleted energy, which then began to overflow. The power grew stronger and more violent until a faint crack echoed through the air.

Li Ao's rank surged from Silver Mid-Level to Silver High-Level, eventually halting at the peak of Silver. A cold, solitary voice resounded in his mind:

"Shattered Cloak,

Deathly Mask,

Forge my name in downfall!"

As the voice faded, Li Ao heard the sound of rushing water in the distance. Unlike the crashing of ocean waves, this sound was dull and oppressive.

Narrowing his eyes, Li Ao saw that the area from which the sound came was even darker than the rest. He slowly approached, squatting down to examine it. It was a black sea, darker than the surrounding darkness, as if it swallowed all light. Wave after wave lapped against his outstretched hand, cold to the touch.

Suddenly, Li Ao felt a sense of foreboding and looked up at the sky. There, a bolt of lightning tore through the heavens, accompanied by a thunderous roar, illuminating the dark world.

In the flash of light, Li Ao's gaze focused on a certain spot in the sky, where a silver emblem, tinged with faint gold, floated. The front of the emblem bore the bold, swirling characters "Jiuli," while the back depicted a dragon, half-hidden in storm clouds, surrounded by crackling lightning that exuded an air of majesty.

Li Ao's pupils dilated and contracted behind the mask. He knew where he was.

This was the Yuan Mansion, located below the chest and abdomen, the source of one's energy. The silver emblem suspended in the sky was his rank emblem. The silver hue represented his cultivation level, but the faint golden glimmer filled him with joy. He was now just one step away from the Gold rank.

Lightning was a natural attribute of the Jiuli bloodline, and Li Ao possessed the rarest form of it: the Divine Thunder of Nine Skies. However, the sudden appearance of this black sea was perplexing.

Touching the mask on his face and gazing at the faint gold in the rank emblem, Li Ao began to suspect that this was the power granted by the mask—an unfamiliar dark attribute.

This power was immense, enough to push him to the threshold of the Gold rank. It was important to note that the Gold rank was a significant milestone in cultivation, with three main thresholds.

Bronze represented the opening of the Yuan Mansion, allowing one to harness energy. Gold, however, enabled the integration of elemental power into one's energy, imbuing attacks with special effects.

Beyond that, Star Diamond rank allowed for communication with the surrounding world, establishing a connection with the corresponding elemental forces. This not only made one's energy more abundant and lasting but also granted supernatural abilities like flight.

All of this happened within the Yuan Mansion in an instant, while outside, the giant lizard's jaws were still closing in on Li Ao.

Just as the lizard was about to devour him, the light on Li Ao's face twisted. A pitch-black mask with eerie blood-red patterns disappeared from the corner of his storage ring and appeared on his face.

Before the lizard could react, black energy condensed into a longsword in Li Ao's hand. His arm swung up, and the blade slashed diagonally from the lizard's throat, slicing through its windpipe, esophagus, and finally its skull.

The black tide carried an obliterating force that devoured everything in its path. Where the blade passed, a thin black line appeared on the lizard's body. Everything the blade touched, whether scale or flesh, was instantly drained of life.

With a final wail, the lizard collapsed to the ground, shaking the earth and raising a cloud of dust. Flickers of fire still sputtered in its throat as it attempted to use Flame Burst against Li Ao once more. But this time, Li Ao's sword was too fast, too sharp, and it didn't allow the creature to release the skill.

After delivering that strike, Li Ao was completely spent. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

Staring at the giant lizard's corpse, which loomed like a small mountain, Li Ao couldn't quite grasp what he was feeling.

It was truly a life-and-death situation, as if he had plunged into an abyss only to soar to the skies.

Fear, relief, and then overwhelming joy.

He had survived. He had faced an unbeatable Platinum-ranked beast and lived.

After the joy faded, an intense sense of weakness washed over him. The tension that had kept him going finally released, and Li Ao leaned against the lizard's head, passing out.