‘Mastering one Dao opens the path to all’ was a mantra that most, if not all high-end cultivators followed. Of course, some cultivate two or even three paths at once. The prime example of this is Mordred who mastered the dao of sound and soul, but this is typically a cultivation style with the first being the primary path and the second being the specialty path.
For him, soul-path is his primary, and sound-path is his specialty. Other paths that he cultivates are ancillaries used to support the two mains.
With that said, Demon Great Duke Astaroth’s primary path was none other than fire-path, and her specialty was blood-path. She could assist Mordred in all sorts of endeavors with her blood-path methods, one of which is information gathering.
Like many other dao, the dao of blood, or in this case, blood-path, is divided into various aspects, often revered as Schools of thought. These encompass, but are not limited to the School of Blood Art, School of Blood Sacrifice, School of Bloodline, School of Blood Alchemy, and many others. Since her true body is a rank 5 Epic, there exist no inherent limitations preventing her from mastering every school of thought within blood-path. Her lifespan grants her ample time to accomplish this feat.
Therefore, everything that Mordred can do with his blood-path methods, she can do it too, but better.
Beneath a decaying wooden trunk, Mordred gently placed the captive werewolf. The burrow's original owner, a mole beast, lay lifeless nearby, its body desiccated like a mummy, devoid of any moisture. All that remained was a low-purity blood crystal. With a touch of his finger, Mordred activated [Astaroth Blood Weapon: Hemorrhaging Claw] using this crystal.
The ruby-like gem liquefies into a blood essence, forming a small claw-shaped sheath around his finger. With it, he traced along the werewolf's arm and leg. A portion of the blood oozing from the creature's wound was drawn into the blade, augmenting its size. Limited by both strength and room for maneuver with such a small blade, Mordred employed a minor sound-path method to vibrate the blood blade, allowing it to cleanly sever the unfortunate canine's limb.
The werewolf tried to scream in pain, but he had already erected a soundfield that blocked any sound from spreading into the surrounding area.
< My brother can delve into the depths of an individual's genetic information, tracing the threads of their ancestry, uncovering their past experiences, and even gleaning insights into their fragmented thoughts and emotions when they were still alive. Are you capable of doing so? > Mordred casually asked the Great Demon Duke.
< I’m sorry, what? > Astaroth was caught off guard.
< I suppose not. Just extract the location of their nest. > Mordred shrugged off her question as he started bloodletting the werewolf some more, creating a puddle of blood. The pain and misery of being tortured like this turned into hatred and indignance, a very beneficial substance for Mordred. It is like seasoning and simmering a meat stew. When Mordred eventually devours the tormented werewolf soul, it will be more fulfilling and delicious.
The Demon Great Duke regained her composure and did as she commanded.
Activating her blood-path method from his Soul Phylactery caused a significant drop in efficiency, but that was enough to make the blood pool underneath the werewolf suddenly boil. The pain from not only being boiled but also having one’s blood suddenly turn hot made the werewolf spasm, scream, and struggle to break free, but now that his limbs have been cleaved off, it can only squirm like a worm.
After ten seconds, the boiling blood became thicker like that of paste, but it didn't stop. Instead, the blood paste combusted, creating a thick crimson flame. From this blood fire, Astaroth can decipher whatever information she’s been looking for. The blood fire looks intense, but it only burns the werewolf, leaving a small pile of ash that is no different than dust. A while later, Mordred received the telepathic report from Astaroth as he devoured the soul of the poor werewolf, ending its misery.
However, suddenly, Mordred shuddered, ceasing all movement, his eyes blank.
< What’s wrong, your majesty? > Astaroth inquired about Mordred's lack of reaction after not reacting to anything for the last fifteen minutes.
Astaroth had a vague suspicion about Mordred’s ability to devour souls freely.
All rank 6 Sovereigns can consume souls, but they refrain from doing so for various reasons. First of all, unless for special occasions, consuming souls does not benefit rank 6 beings. Secondly, ‘consuming’ souls would contaminate one’s ego and personality. It is like inviting a dangerous pathogen to enter one’s body. Depending on the soul-devouring method, the memories, secrets, or even the personality of the consumed might be ‘digested’, allowing the devourer to inherit them.
Considering Mordred is well known in the demon circle as one who devours the souls he had killed, it wouldn’t be strange for him to lose his original ego.
‘Was it the straw that broke the camel’s back?’ She knew he must have some resistance against mental contamination, but resistance isn’t immunity. Just as Astaroth was about to activate an investigative method on Mordred’s soul to confirm her conjecture, a spectral hand patted her head.
“Unless you want your main soul to suffer for what you did, I suggest you stop what you’re doing.” The owner of this hand was none other than the tall, ghastly specter of Asmodeus. Draped in the formidable attire of an ancient martial tradition, her sheer presence radiates across the ruined castle environment of the Soul Phylactery. Her 'body,' standing over two meters tall, bore a striking resemblance to a tribal race in ancient civilization. A set of garments adorned her figure, boasting intricate patterns woven into deep white fabric, accented with threads of crimson and gold. Among her features, a pale horn with edges tinged in a fiery red marked her brow. Once a pair, one horn now stood broken near the root, a wound carved by the battles she survived.
“His truesoul had an absolute abhorrence against investigative methods that are used on him. If you do it, it’ll trigger the inherent retaliative measure that can wound your truesoul.” She added.
Astaroth swiftly halts her actions and bows deeply before Asmodeus. “His Majesty has been relying on me lately, causing me to lower my guard. Your Majesty, I am deeply grateful for your stern warning,” she humbly acknowledges.
"Hmm," Asmodeus granted her a subtle nod. With a graceful turn, she strides back to her original seat—the throne of the ruined castle.
The two demons waited for Mordred. They don’t need to use investigative methods to see that Satoru’s brain is very active, but Mordred and Satoru are completely different entities. The former is wearing the latter as a flesh suit.
It wasn't until dawn came and the artificial light of the micro plane had showered the forest that Mordred had stopped standing still like an idiot.
“Tsk, troublesome.” Mordred sat down, massaging his temple. The energy consumed by his brain this whole night has drained him completely.
< What happened, Your Majesty? > As his peer, Asmodeus doesn’t have that much of a restraint on caring for Mordred’s matter.
Mordred initiated an encrypted telepathic frequency to converse with Asmodeus. It made her surprised as the spare souls stored within the Soul Phylactery are spontaneously being combusted as a result. « The Nine True Colors is my concept of undying, but every ‘immortal’ has their weaknesses. »
« Yours is your successive resurrection, isn't it? » Asmodeus is also an immortal being, she was somewhat aware of Mordred’s concept of immortality. « One split into nine, and if you kill one, they split into another nine. This will infinitely loop until you are so much weaker that each ‘one’ of you is as insignificant as an ant. At that point, even if you are unkillable, you won’t be able to do anything. »
« … » A brief pause ensued as Mordred was taken aback by her candid response. It appeared that his 'secret' was already common knowledge among the Demon Kings of Lemegeton, considering Asmodeus wouldn't typically seek out such information herself. She must have gleaned it from hearsay or other Demon Kings.
« You haven’t answered my question, Your Majesty. » Asmodeus inquired once more after a minute of silence.
« The Nine Colors is my concept of immortality, how can someone blabber about how to kill me? » Mordred internally shook his head. Since it’s out amongst the Demon Kings of Lemegeton, there’s no need to hide it any longer. « Each color isn’t a separate entity, there’s a high-dimensional connection between us that won’t be severed despite the difference of time and space among us. However, due to its secretive nature, none of us can individually tap into this secret frequency. »
« If that secret frequency isn’t used, then what’s its purpose? Wouldn’t this be a vector that your enemies can use to get to you? » It’s common among Sovereigns to perfect their concept of immortality by eliminating weaknesses.
For example, some Sovereigns from demon races protect their descendants far more than their true bodies because they could use their offspring as a vector of reincarnation. Naturally, Mordred’s immortality echoes this concept, but having a high-dimensional channel that’s shared amongst all of his splintered souls is no different than putting all the eggs in one basket. If it were up to Asmodeus, she would increase the complexity of the frequency by creating a unique pair or whatnot.
« It’s a one-way communication channel. » Mordred sighed as if he had received significant damage. « The function of it is to broadcast specific information towards other True Colors… at the cost of their own immortality. »
Asmodeus' seated throne shattered into a cloud of dust, mirroring the sudden spread of her truesoul's radiation. The ruined castle quivered as if the sheer force of her shock resonated physically through the essence of her being. « It can’t be…? »
« Yes…True Yellow has fallen. » Mordred’s eyes reflected a complex expression.
How will he gain his full strength now that a part of his true soul is ded
The power of friendship and love
Jokes aside, I can not reveal them since that is like the entire plot of this book.
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