Earth-tier weapons to carve a snake?!!
It was unthinkable, like using a sacred relic to pry open a food crate.
But well... orders are orders.
The skinning began, the blades slicing through the serpent’s hide with a soft, resonant hum.
The gallbladder, large enough to fill a wine flask, was carefully extracted and placed into a reinforced flask, its surface shimring with latent power.
Riven took the flask, his steps casual as he approached Nysalea.
She stood beside Selene, her hands folded, her posture rigid with uncertainty. He pressed the flask into her palms, his touch lingering for a heartbeat.
Her fingers closed around it, and she felt it!
A visceral, ancient force pulsing within, not re energy but the essence of a creature that had defied ti.
It could shatter a lesser cultivator, its power too vast to contain.
Yet, within her, there was no fear, only a deep, primal longing, as if her blood recognized it, yearned for it.
"Swallow it," a voice whispered, not from Riven or Selene but from within her, a call from her very core.
Refine it. Awaken what lies sleeping.
Her eyes t Riven’s, no longer doubtful but alight with sothing new—gratitude, hope, sothing she didn’t quite understand.
Her breath hitched, words failing her. Selene’s hand settled on her shoulder, and she nodded at her.
We believe in you.
Together, they ascended the inn’s wooden stairs, the steps creaking softly under their weight. The wind stirred outside, and a gentle sigh ca through the open windows.
Inside Nysalea’s chest, the feeling of longing was starting to get unbearable.
It was a hunger like no other. Just in ti to feed it.
....
Nysalea Nightsilver sat cross-legged on the bed, her knees tucked beneath her white robes, her hands pressed lightly together over her lap.
Her eyes were closed, and her breaths were shallow.
The room was quiet save for the occasional flicker of silk curtains catching the wind, flapping gently beside the open windows where sunlight stread in... warm, golden, and soft, spilling over her like a divine curtain.
Despite the serenity of her surroundings, her heart was anything but calm.
Both Riven and Selene stood nearby, watching her. Silent, but expectant of the outco.
She could feel their presence, boring down on her.
The pressure of their expectations settled over her like a weightless shroud.
They were hoping she would succeed.
Refining the gallbladder and awakening sothing inside her. Sothing even she didn’t know was there.
Not even her mother had known she possessed this potential.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached forward.
Slowly, she grasped the cork stopper and uncorked the wine flask.
Imdiately, an incredibly potent aroma surged out into the room. Thick and fiery, soaked with aged alcohol and dicinal potency, it burned its way into her lungs with a single breath.
Cough cough cough
She coughed like she had taken a puff from the bong.
The scent seed strong enough to curl the edges of the curtains and linger on the wooden floorboards, creeping toward the open windows where it drifted out into the wind.
Below them, faintly, they could hear the laughter and chaos of the feast preparations.
Riven’s guards, stewards, and Azira; his little maid... were busy preparing a banquet, cooking and dividing the massive serpent Riven had dropped on them like a mountain.
The air downstairs slled of roasting at and wine and crackling oil.
But up here, a different kind of heat was building.
Nysalea reached into the flask.
Her fingers wrapped around sothing warm and slick and pulsating.
She lifted it out, the gallbladder of a five-hundred-year-old Pusiqu serpent, deep purple in color and shot through with silver veins.
It glistened, faintly pulsing with life, as though the creature’s will had never quite died.
This was the core of a being who is almost equal to a mythical level of human strength.
She stared at it for one breath.
Then she closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and swallowed it whole.
The taste hit her like a hamr.
Putrid. Slimy. Foul.
She nearly choked. Her body jerked in revulsion, and her spine stiffened, a jolt of nausea racing from the base of her skull down to her tailbone. Her face twisted.
Quickly, she took a gulp of the aged wine. So then ca the second wave.
The aged wine within the flask erupted over her tongue, washing the foulness away with a sudden flood of searing alcohol.
It was like swallowing a furnace. It scorched her throat, burned her stomach, and set her insides alight.
She gasped; then cut off her own breath.
It was like she entered a different dinsion at the mont.
No distractions. No sound.
She forced her attention inward.
She shut out her sight. Her hearing. Her sll.
Even her sense of taste faded as she focused every shred of her awareness into her body.
Inside, she saw the gallbladder was already dissolving in her stomach, lting like soft iron over a forge.
As it broke down, a flood of unimaginable energy burst from it.
An endless stream of violent, and potent energy ignited her stomach.
It was like she had swallowed magma.
A river of molten power surged into her bloodstream. It shot through her veins like lightning in water, reaching her fingertips, her scalp, the soles of her feet.
Outside, Riven’s eyes narrowed. ’That doesn’t look good,’ he couldn’t help but think.
Her skin was heating up.
At first it was subtle. A soft shimr, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow.
Then steam began to rise from her shoulders. Her alabaster skin turned pink, then rosy, then an increasingly dark crimson.
"Her body temperature is skyrocketing," Riven muttered, unable to hide the concern in his voice.
He could see the bed sheets, mattress starting to heat up.
It was the mont he saw Nysalea’s skin starting to flake and burning to cinders that he decided to stop this.
No. We might kill the girl.
He took a step forward.
But he couldnt move any further when Selene grabbed his hand. "She will be alright," Selene said softly, tightening her grip.
She leaned against his shoulder. "She’s not resisting the power; she’s absorbing it."
Riven narrowed his eyes. Selene is acting a bit weird.
Riven: Selene... are you angry at her or sothing?
Selene chuckled. No, love. She needs to go through this if she needs to stand beside us. She’s willing to die for it, so don’t disrespect her will.
Riven hesitatingly nodded, but tension remained in his jaw.
Ultimately, he decided to trust Selene.
Within Nysalea, the chaos surged.
She saw her entire body afla. Every cell starting to heat up at unholy degrees.
At the absolute critical mont, where she decided, it was either her death or rebirth.
But then sothing changed.
The violent storm of energy found no exit, no channel through her dantian, no path into her ridians.
It bypassed her bones, her organs, her bloodstreams.
It went only to one place.
Her heart.
Loud and forceful, her heart beat once.
Then again. Harder.
Then faster. And faster still.
It began to drum inside her chest with a rhythm that echoed across her consciousness like war drums on a battlefield.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump-thump.
The energy did not just go to the heart...it was consud by it.
Devoured.
Like her heart had beco a crimson colored black hole, a spiraling core of unquenchable hunger.
And it kept taking.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
By the fifteenth, the gallbladder’s energy, which should’ve overwheld her body entirely, had been absorbed.
Completely.
And still, her heart beat louder. It slowly released so kind of refined energy outward now.
Then the transformation began.
At first, it was faint.
Lines! thin as spider silk and white as polished bone, began to appear on the surface of her heart.
They curled, coiled, and connected, forming symbols...runes!
They were beautiful. Complex. Ancient. Not taught to her, yet known.
Instinctively understood.
The blood vessels exiting her heart began to change color.
From red to silver-gray.
Her entire heart shifted hue, from crimson to dull tallic sheen, then to shimring silver with a glow deep beneath the surface.
The runes continued to spread.
One wrapped around the upper chamber. Another curved along the aorta.
They linked and expanded, forming a glowing web of power.
Outside, Selene’s lips parted.
"Riven... look."
Selene’s voice was soft, almost reverent, like a whisper one might offer in the presence of sacred ritual.
And he did.
The air in the room had begun to change.
The energy, once still and heavy like humid air before a storm, had begun to stir.
At first, it was a re tremor, then he could literally see the energy shimring and sending ripples outward.
Then it began to circle.
A soft draft stirred the silken curtains again. The once random flutter now moved with rhythm, as though pulled by an invisible breath.
That breath spiraled slowly, forming a delicate, ethereal whirlwind around Nysalea’s seated form.
Her hair, long and dark like flowing ink, began to lift gently as the current coiled around her.
The light in the room seed to bend slightly... slanting, intensifying, as if reality itself had acknowledged sothing profound was taking place.
It was as if heaven and earth had beco silent observers.
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