Chapter 62 : Brewing Trouble
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  The Great Work was advancing slowly but steadily, with less than two hundred runes still missing. Nothing had changed for the eternal Sil’piceus, who were fully committing themselves to the pursuit of godhood.

  It was the rest of the world that had undergone tremendous changes, as animals and plants of all sizes and species were starting their own cultivation journey. Under the teaching of the senior mosquito, countless beasts rallied together in an attempt to resist their overlords.

  Their futile resistance led to nothing, as the Sil’piceus did not even notice it. It was only much later, after the alliance had been destroyed by internal conflicts, that they became aware of what was happening, and they still barely paid any attention to this new development.

  They were not even sure when exactly the wild beast had started cultivating. For these demigods, an ant doubling, tripling or even multiplying their strength by a thousand made no difference. They would hit it once, and it would die, and offer up its blood to the Great Rune.

  The only reason they became aware of anything at all was that they found that some of their prey had blood tainted with the color of gold, which was of much higher quality. A single drop of golden blood had better effect than a liter of normal blood.

  Intrigued by this discovery, they investigated the cause of this, and through the use of spiritual arts capable of revealing the secrets of the past, they got their hands on a brand new cultivation technique.

  They did try and study this new power system, to see if they could take advantage of it or incorporate it in their own cultivation, but had little success. While they manage to salvage some blood purification techniques from it, they otherwise found the cultivation system incompatible and inferior to worshiping the Great Rune.

  The technique allowed one to cultivate atavism, returning to their roots and making the traits of the divine beasts reemerge. Cultivating this kind of technique to its peak would allow one to gain the body and power of one of the divine beasts, and become a god.

  This was an unprecedented opportunity for all the creatures in the entire world, but from the Sil’piceus point of view, what was a mere divine beast when compared to their glorious race.

  They had obviously already attained the perfect form, so why would they ever abandon their noble identity and power to gain a body of an oversized prey? Why should they pursue the power of an old relic that could not survive the creation of the world when they were already on their way to becoming gods themselves?

  No, such a technique was only fit for prey, but that did not mean it was worthless. If it served to elevate their blood, then a prey that had cultivated would be much more valuable than otherwise.

  This new power system was indeed a treasure, and they needed to spread it through the entire world, so that as much prey as possible could refine their blood.

  Upon realizing this, the Sil’piceus did not waste any time, and went to work perfecting this rudimentary cultivation technique. With the combined wisdom of the Great Race, a new and enhanced cultivation technique was quickly designed, which allowed one to cultivate at a breakneck speed, and pushed the purification of blood to the extreme.

  Then, they spread this technique throughout the earth, building magical monuments everywhere on the planet that contained all kinds of techniques to teach the ignorant animals how to cultivate.

  The wild beasts greedily accepted this sudden and indiscriminate gift of power, unaware they were simply being raised so that they would be able to offer up some higher quality blood. Their caretakers did nothing but watch on impassively as they cultivated and grew in power, gaining magical powers, enslaving their brethren and building fledgling empires. Factions were created and destroyed, and the world had entered an era of tribal warfare.

  None of that mattered to the Great Ones. They grew in power faster than anyone else, and the prosperity of the entire world would only serve to further fuel their growth. Unsatisfied with waiting for the rivers of blood to trickle back to their blood lake, they built great formations spanning the entire world, to gather even the tiniest drop of blood spilled on the other side of the world.

  While the Great Work was not yet complete, the Great Rune had been fed so much rich blood that it already held unimaginable power, leading the Sil’piceus to believe it had far surpassed the false power of those pathetic divine beasts.

  There was only one aspect that the Sil’piceus failed to take into account. Any creature, after being cultivated to a certain point, would awaken their wisdom and become intelligent. Only, the Sil’piceus never noticed this fact, because the passive mental attack inherent to their incoherent form destroyed the mind of their prey as soon as they approached, long before they had a chance to demonstrate their intelligence.


  As decades and centuries passed, the average cultivation level grew at a frightening pace, but still none could threaten the eternal rule of the Sil’piceus. In fact, the difference in power only grew as time went by. Few beasts survived long enough to truly cultivate to a high level. The Sil’piceus would never kill cultivators directly, preferring to regularly harvest their blood before releasing them so that they could recover and cultivate further. But these wild beasts had no unity, and often killed each other, compromising their only hope of one day overthrowing their cruel overlords with petty disputes.

  To make matters worse, the cultivation technique the Sil’piceus disseminated had very little focus on gaining strength, instead concentrating on the purity of blood, with a secondary emphasis on healing and longevity. They desired healthy and succulent prey, not warriors.

  Despite the changing world, the Sil’piceus had an immense head start, and it seemed impossible to catch up to them. Yet, far away, hidden amongst the fog in the sea, trouble was brewing.

  On an isolated island in the middle of the sea, a great ceremony was being held. Millions of birds, insects and flying animals of all kinds were gathered, prostrating themselves before their monarch.

  In the center of the adoring crown, a mosquito king was hovering atop a pale replica of the twin blood lakes, arrogantly releasing the coercion of an emperor. Under the worshiping eyes of his subjects, he approached an altar made out of golden bones, and reverently revealed what it contained.

  It was an ethereal drop of golden blood, exuding a terrifying aura, containing the mysteries of the creation of the world, demanding respect and idolization.

  This was the original blood of the divine dragon, a vestige from the creation of the world. This was their most precious treasure, and was what gave them the confidence to overthrow their masters.

  They had found it centuries ago, following its special connection to the mosquitos king identity as first cultivator of atavism. However, as powerful as this item was, it required equally powerful wielders, so they had never dared make use of it, fearing the Sil’piceus would take it as their own. Even now, no one truly felt ready to risk everything in a great war.

  Unfortunately, time was against them, and they could not afford to wait for the Great Work to be complete, as it would spell their doom.

  Time was running short, so the mosquito king finally decided to take the ultimate step, and attempt to assimilate the divine origin contained in this drop of blood. Taking a deep breath, he sent one last glance at his friends and subjects, before plunging and disappearing inside the golden drop.

  For a week, nothing happened. Seven days passed, during which the fate of the world hung in the air, and the future was uncertain. Then, under the tearful eyes of the crowd, the golden drop lost its luster, and revealed their king, a mosquito no more, and his new status as a god.

  From the size of an insignificant insect, the newborn god rapidly expanded to become bigger than the island he had been living on. Then, raising its head towards the sky, it uttered a bloodthirsty cry, full of defiance, hatred and relentless fury, a roar that was heard across the world, announcing the start of a Great War.

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