The tension between Yan Jin and Nie Yang reached its peak as they stood face to face, hovering at equal height. The arena seed to hold its breath as the pressure emanating from both fighters filled the air, thick with raw power. Each of them was prepared to strike, to end this in a brutal clash of wills and strength. But just as they were about to engage, sothing stopped them.
A giant violet eye appeared above the arena, so massive it cast a shadow over the entire stage. The mont it materialized, every spectator went silent, for they knew exactly who this eye represented. It was the mark of the Void Lord, He Chen, the strongest of the generation of miracles.
"Enough," a single word echoed, carried by the unseen force of He Chen's voice. It reverberated across the arena, filled with authority that no one dared to question.
Nie Yang clenched his fists, and Yan Jin narrowed his eyes. But neither could defy He Chen. Both withdrew, their auras subsiding as the inevitable battle was halted by an external force.
Zhang Chi, watching from the sidelines, gritted his teeth in frustration. He had thought this was the mont—the one he had been waiting for, the mont of reckoning. But once again, He Chen had ddled. His chance, stolen from him yet again.
Yan Jin was the first to fall back, his mind racing. He had to think of Scara, his injured companion, but Nie Yang's public declaration that he possessed celestial-grade techniques and pets now complicated things. This wasn't just about a personal vendetta anymore—it was a much larger ga. He needed to reassess and re-strategize.
As he exited the arena, Wei Xi and Zhang San approached him quickly.
"How do you feel?" Wei Xi asked, eyes scanning him for any sign of injury.
"I'm fine, but Scara isn't," Yan Jin responded, his voice laced with concern.
"Let's take Scara to my cousin and see if he can help," Zhang San suggested, and without hesitation, they ran toward the Treasure Pavilion division.
When they arrived, Zhang Chi was already there, waiting. He took one look at Scara's battered form, his expression grim.
"Can you help?" Yan Jin asked, hopeful despite the odds.
Zhang Chi examined the eagle closely before shaking his head. "I can't help. I'm afraid this is beyond ." His face held a helpless expression as if he wanted to do more but couldn't.
Yan Jin clenched his jaw, carefully taking Scara back into his arms. He was about to leave when Zhang Chi called out to him.
"Where are you going? What about our deal?"
Yan Jin paused but didn't look back. "You don't have to worry about that. I always honor my deals," he said simply, leaving Zhang Chi confused.
Yan Jin hurried to the blood pool room, his mind set on one person who might be able to help. He arrived at the ancient stone building where the blood pool resided. The sa old man from before sat near the entrance, his usual grumpy deanor in full display.
"You again?" the old man grumbled, clearly exasperated at the sight of Yan Jin. "What is it this ti?"
"Grandpa Pool, I got my friend back... can you help ?" Yan Jin said, revealing Scara's broken body.
The old man's eyes narrowed as he looked at the bird, but sothing softened in his deanor as he noticed the desperation in Yan Jin's voice.
The reason Yan Jin had a hunch the old man could help him was because of a book he had read to him while he was in seclusion. It was an ancient text about seals and elental manipulation. During their ti together, Yan Jin had co to understand that this old man wasn't just so ordinary caretaker of the blood pool.
He had helped Yan Jin grasp the deeper nuances of energy manipulation as a Type A bloodline warrior.
Bloodline warriors of Type B or Fra Fighters used blood energy to enhance their physical abilities or weapons like swords and spears. But Type A blood line warriors, used blood energy as a catalyst for elental manipulation, spells or incantations. This distinction had opened an entirely new realm of possibilities for Yan Jin's fighting style.
It was a favor that Yan Jin could not repay at the mont, but one he would never forget.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" the old man barked. "Bring him here. Let's see what can be done."
Scara lay barely breathing on the counter, his feathers ruffled and lifeless, as Yan Jin anxiously watched. The old man's eyes softened for a mont, taking in the sight of the battered celestial eagle before shaking his head in dismay.
"These Nie... they've grown more and more outrageous with their actions, Watch and Learn" the old man grumbled.
Yan Jin, sensing a bit of hope from the old man's willingness to help, couldn't resist teasing. "Are you bullying because I'm blind, old man?" he said in a relaxed tone, knowing full well that the old man had the ans to save Scara.
Humph, the old man snorted, ignoring the jab. He raised his hands, fingers weaving through the air as he traced a series of intricate seals. Without hesitation, he drew a small cut on his wrist, and as soon as his blood touched the ground, a runic circle materialized above Scara's body.
Slowly, a consistent flow of energy ford between the bird and the old man, red lines of energy flowing like threads between them. Read new adventures at m_v-l'e|-
"Is that blood transfusion?" Yan Jin asked, watching the strange phenonon unfold.
"No, this is blood transmutation. I'm transferring my blood through the transmutation circle and altering it to closely match his blood. That should give him the kick he needs to heal," the old man explained, his tone gruff yet patient.
Yan Jin furrowed his brows, feeling sothing more profound. "Why do I sense soul force in this?"
"Because blood transmutation requires willpower. How else do you think you can change the properties of blood, you idiot?" the old man said, his focus remaining on the runic circle.
Yan Jin's curiosity piqued further. "But if willpower can influence the properties of blood, does it really change? Or is the body just made to believe it has?"
The old man glanced at him with a smirk. "Why does it have to be one or the other?" he asked. "You still think things only exist in one state, don't you? When you, yourself, possess both Type A and Type B blood?"
Yan Jin froze, shocked. "How did you know?"
The old man snorted again. "Do you think everyone's as stupid as you?"
For hours, the old man worked on healing Scara, and as the process continued, their conversation deepened. They discussed the nature of bloodlines, how willpower and soul force can shape reality, and how blood energy can manifest in ways that defy conventional understanding. Yan Jin listened intently, absorbing the knowledge being passed to him.
He realized that this old man was far more knowledgeable than he appeared, and every word was a lesson.
As ti passed, Scara's breathing grew steadier, and his feathers regained so of their luster. The transmutation circle faded, and the old man wiped the sweat from his brow.
"It'll take ti for him to fully recover, but he's going to be alright," the old man finally said, his voice softer now.
Yan Jin's shoulders relaxed, relief washing over him. "Thank you," he said earnestly, bowing his head slightly.
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