Chapter 7: The Grand Elder's Dining Hall

The final dish emerged not from the table, but from the floor itself - the marble liquefying into a swirling vortex before solidifying into two obsidian chalices. Their surfaces crawled with living engravings: tiny skeletal hands that clutched the rims, their fingerbones rattling as the vessels filled with bubbling black liquid.

"Dessert: A Simple Choice," the Grand Elder whispered, his voice now coming from all directions at once. The orchid eye pulsed hungrily. "Who will prove their... devotion first?"

Jian Long's system overlay flared crimson:

[Poison Analysis - Ultraviolet Scan]

• Chalice A: "Core Dissolution Solution"

98% certainty of permanent cultivation loss12% chance of preserving life (As a cripple)Key Ingredient: Frostbloom Pavilion's founding elder's ashesChalice B:"Oblivion Tincture"Targets episodic memory (Last 3 years)Preserves muscle memory (All techniques intact)73% chance of personality fragmentationHidden Third Option:Ritual defilement via simultaneous rejectionRequired sacrifice: 1 treasured memory per participant

Mei's fingers twitched toward Chalice A. Jian Long noted three telling details:

Her pinky finger didn't tremble (Uncharacteristic for high-stakes choices)The shadow of her dagger stretched away from the chalice (Instinctive recoil)A single drop of sweat traced the scar around her wrist (The puppet-string mark glowing faintly)

She's planning something.

Jian Long grabbed Chalice B with theatrical resignation. "I'll forget this nonsense anyway."

Their eyes met. A micro-expression flashed across Mei's face—gone before the system could categorize it.

Three.

Mei's grip tightened on Chalice A.

Two.

The Grand Elder's vines coiled in anticipation.

One.

They threw as one—not at each other, but directly into Mu Rong's orchid eye.

The effect was instantaneous. The chalices shattered against the pulsating bloom, their contents mixing in midair to form a spiraling helix of destruction. The Grand Elder's shriek hit ultrasonic frequencies, rupturing the frozen disciples' eardrums in synchronized bursts. Blood geysered from their eye sockets as the soundwave passed through them.

The orchid eye exploded first—a gory firework of black nectar that crystallized midair into thousands of screaming faces. Each mirrored Mu Rong's visage at different ages, their mouths moving in silent recrimination.

The host body's skin sloughed off in sheets, revealing the pulsating vine-mass beneath. The tendrils withered like salted leeches, their needle-tipped mouths snapping impotently. The stench of rotting vegetation overwhelmed the hall, so potent Jian Long's eyes watered blood.

Jian Long's birthmark ignited as he lunged. His fingers sank into the host body's chest—not through flesh, but through dimensions, bypassing physical matter to grip the writhing core of Mu Rong's true form.

Agony. His arm blazed with stolen energy, veins bulging black beneath the skin. The system screeched:

[WARNING: Host physique incompatible with Celestial-tier theft]

Bone fractures spiderwebbed up his radius as alien power flooded his meridians. His left eyeball ruptured, reforming instantly with an orchid-shaped pupil.

What emerged from the host corpse wasn't just a tumor—it was a heart. Not human, but some grotesque hybrid of muscle and thorns, its surface studded with miniature swords instead of valves.

Mei's dagger hand spasmed as the Grand Elder's final whisper slithered through the chamber:

"She's not what you think..."

Her shadow—normally razor-precise—flickered wildly. For 0.3 seconds, it showed something impossible:

A second figure standing behind Mei.

Identical down to the scarred wrist.

Smiling.

The system barely caught it:

[Anomaly Detected: Temporal Glitch in Subject Mei]

Then the heart-core pulsed one final time and shattered, taking the banquet hall with it.