Chapter 118: Primordial Beings

Deep within the labyrinthine catacombs, dozens of grotesque tomb guardians writhed in the gloom. They were larger than grown men, and only when they swooped near the torchlight did their true forms become clear.

Human-faced Strigoi.

*Swoosh—*

A gleaming longsword cleaved a descending Strigoi in twain.

Dozens of sword rays crisscrossed the claustrophobic chamber as Valeria and the Imperial Academy disciples maintained their Aegis Phalanx Formation, fending off the savage swarm.

The formation appeared flawless. Yet, nearly every disciple was bleeding...

"This is no inheritance trial," Cassius coughed, his chest slashed open. His face had turned a sickly shade of green from the venom.

"Cassius, fall back to the center of the phalanx! You are poisoned," Titus commanded. Suddenly, his eyes tracked a darting shadow on the ceiling.

A four-winged Strigoi Broodmother clung to the stalactites, cunningly evading the sword light while commanding her brood.

"Watch above!" Titus roared.

The Academy elites gritted their teeth. They had been separated from their Praetorian escorts upon entering the shifting maze. Their original plan of holding out until rescue arrived was failing. The beasts were weak individually but endlessly sly.

"We must kill the Broodmother."

"Cassius is the only one fast enough to reach her."

They adjusted their breathing, channeling a joint sword technique they had learned from Instructor Liana.

Titus gave a sharp whistle.

In a flash of silver qi, Cassius was launched skyward like a thrown javelin. The colossal Broodmother sensed the threat, emitting a skull-piercing sonic shriek as it tried to retreat into the shadows.

But Cassius was faster. In the gloom, sword light flashed, leathery wings flapped wildly, and the beast’s shrieks turned to death rattles.

Ten seconds later, two halves of the Broodmother crashed to the floor.

Without their commander, the surviving Strigoi scattered blindly into the tunnels.

Cassius landed heavily, his breath weak, nearly collapsing as the venom took hold.

"Stay alert," Marcus warned, shoving a handful of detoxifying pills into Cassius’s mouth.

"Who knows what else is lurking—"

*Thud*

Before Marcus could finish his sentence, the ground trembled. Small pebbles bounced across the floor.

Footsteps echoed from the primary tunnel.

Titus’s expression twisted in horror. He glared at Marcus. "If we survive this, I am severing your vocal cords."

One bold disciple threw a torch forward, dispelling the gloom and revealing the approaching silhouette.

It dwarfed the Strigoi entirely. It was an Abyssal Manticore, its mane bristling with necrotic energy. Disturbingly, its eyes gleamed with a distinctly human emotion—mockery.

The Strigoi swarm had merely been its appetizer, a tool to exhaust the intruders.

Now, the only swordsman capable of piercing its hide was barely standing.

"Brace for death," Marcus muttered, tearing his sleeve to bind his sword tightly to his hand. "Worst case, we take an eye with us!"

*Whoosh—*

A foul wind blasted the chamber as the Manticore lunged, jaws unhinged to devour Marcus whole.

Then, a familiar voice echoed from the corridor behind them.

"Move!"

Instinctively, the disciples dove aside.

A chilling aura surged past them, followed by a dazzling streak of icy sword light. Moving faster than the eye could track, Liana drove her Frostblade directly into the Manticore’s chest.

Ice swiftly spread from the wound, threatening to freeze its organs solid.

The beast stared in shock at the cold-faced Reborn Empress. Its jaw unhinged further, and it spoke in a guttural, human tongue.

"You... you did not die?!"

Driven by sudden, panicked frenzy, the Manticore ignored its wound and charged directly at Liana.

Before its claws could reach her, a sequence of glowing hex-runes materialized in the air, cast by Sylvia. The runes locked onto the Manticore’s limbs, freezing it mid-motion.

A second figure followed closely behind the Empress.

Theo descended from the shadows, swinging his colossal Abyssal Hammer, wreathed in raging karmic fire.

*BOOM!*

The crushing physical force hammered the Manticore flat against the stone floor.

Theo did not pause. He pounced on the beast, bringing the hammer down with mechanical precision.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

Each strike sent shockwaves through the crypt, pulverizing the ancient beast into an unrecognizable paste.

*Great Sage, activate assimilation.*

[Affirmative. Parasite class absorbing Manticore core... Miasmic venom resistance integrated.]

Theo folded his hammer away, feeling a new layer of immunity settle into his foundation.

"Gods..." Marcus gulped, staring at the cratered floor. "As expected of the Divine Hammer—"

Titus elbowed him brutally in the ribs.

"I mean, as expected of the Abyssal Sword Sovereign!" Marcus coughed, hastily correcting himself to avoid angering Theo. "Sovereign, Instructor Liana. What incredible luck to run into you."

"It was not luck," Theo replied calmly, wiping dust from his robes.

He had tapped into *Great Sage* earlier, rewriting a segment of Liana’s optimal path to divert them into this specific chamber.

Why?

Because his System had flagged four investment targets who were about to die.

Right on cue, the notifications cascaded across his vision.

[Congratulations, Host. Successful investment in ’Marcus’]

[Congratulations, Host. Successful investment in ’Valeria’]

[Congratulations, Host. Successful investment in ’Cassius’]

[Congratulations, Host. Successful investment in ’Titus’]

Theo permitted himself a subtle smile.

...

The Academy disciples stared at the bloodstained Abyssal Hammer in Theo’s hand, then at the pulverized remains of the Manticore.

A profound sense of security washed over them.

"Did you strike down the Broodmother, Cassius?" Theo asked, surveying the battered group.

Most were simply pale and exhausted, but Cassius looked truly miserable.

His skin was a sickly green, and his armor was soaked in blood.

"It was merely an effortless strike..."

Cassius stood up, tilting his chin to maintain his dignity as a noble swordsman.

However, before he could finish his boast, the Miasma-venom acted up, forcing him to double over and vomit bile onto the stone floor.

He wiped his mouth, his face streaked with tears and snot. Swaying unsteadily, he forced a nonchalant smile.

"Merely an effortless strike. Nothing more."

Theo stared at him. At least his pride was intact.

[Target ’Cassius’ is suffering from Grade-IV Miasmic necrosis. Lethal within ten minutes without intervention.]

Theo sighed and retrieved several high-grade alchemical vials from his spatial ring.

"Take these *Aegis-Root Purge Tablets* immediately."

"Apply the *Ambrosia Nectar Salve* to your external wounds."

Titus took the pills but discreetly pocketed them. His injuries were minor; it was wiser to hoard Sovereign-tier medicine.

He marveled at Theo’s careless wealth... tossing out priceless panaceas as if they were candy.

Marcus swallowed his pill, looking at Theo and Liana with complex emotions.

While the elite Academy phalanx had been pushed to the brink of death, Theo had not even dirtied the hem of his white robes. He was strolling through an apocalyptic tomb as if it were a leisurely garden walk.

The gap between prodigies was sometimes wider than the gap between a human and a dog.

"What exactly were those things, Sovereign?" Marcus asked respectfully.

"Tomb guardians," Theo replied, his mind elsewhere. "They are manifestations of concentrated spiritual miasma and subterranean yin energy."

Internally, Theo was deeply unsettled.

Why had the Abyssal Manticore recognized Liana?

It had spoken to her as if it knew she was supposed to be dead.

Before he could analyze it further, Sylvia’s voice echoed from a side passage.

"Come quickly! I have found the primary archives!"

"Let us investigate," Theo said to Liana.

The two of them walked toward the voice, taking the golden light of the karmic fire with them.

The surrounding gloom instantly collapsed inward.

The Academy disciples exchanged frightened glances, swallowing hard. When Theo was near, they felt protected by an invincible aegis. Now, they felt naked in the gloom.

"Should we... offer our tactical assistance?" Titus suggested, coughing awkwardly.

"A son of House Valerius never lags behind!" Cassius declared, lifting his chin despite his green face. "We move!"

"I have always possessed a profound interest in subterranean archaeology," Marcus nodded sagely.

"Stop talking and run before we lose sight of them!" Titus hissed.

The group hurried down the passage, entering a colossal Scriptoria. Rows of ancient bookshelves stretched into the shadows. However, not a single scroll remained intact; millennia of decay had reduced the archives to a thick carpet of gray ash.

"It seems the First Empire’s knowledge has returned to dust," Liana noted, a hint of genuine regret in her silver eyes.

They found Sylvia standing before another series of colossal frescoes.

This mural depicted the nine Primeval seraphs locked in apocalyptic combat alongside their mortal followers. Their enemies were fearsome, primordial monstrosities.

One was a colossal, one-legged bull clad in black scales, snorting hurricanes and lightning. Another was a tempestuous lion composed entirely of swirling black sand. The third was a serpentine leviathan with endless crimson scales. When the serpent closed its eyes, the world plunged into eternal night; when it opened them, the sky burned with a ghastly red sun.

"Are these real?" Marcus gasped, entirely unable to fathom such apocalyptic scale. Even modern calamity beasts paled in comparison to these entities.

"They were real," Sylvia answered. "In ancient times, humanity was frail. The world was dominated by Primordial Beings... entities that were less like beasts and more like living cosmic laws. The martial arts you practice today originated from humanity observing and imitating these entities."

Theo nodded. Even now, basic Academy forms were based on beast stances.

"Did the Primevals slay them all?" Cassius asked.

"You cannot truly slay a Primordial Being," Sylvia shook her head. "They are fused with the Dao—the fundamental laws of reality. If you kill the Tempest-Lion, the concept of storms does not cease to exist. Eventually, the cosmic law will simply coalesce and spawn a new tempest entity. They are immortal concepts."

The group moved to the final fresco.

Here, the scene shifted. Instead of fighting, the Nine Primevals were leading millions of humans in a prayer.

"The power of collective belief..." Theo murmured.

He exchanged a glance with Liana.

They were both struck by the exact same realization.

The ancient priests depicted in the fresco... the ones leading humanity in prayer to chain the cosmic laws...

They wore the exact same vestments as the Nightmare-Walkers they had just fought.

"The priests who forged those chains..." Liana’s voice was as cold as ice. "They were the founding fathers of the Cult of the Devourer."

The Academy disciples were stunned into silence.

The Cult of the Devourer, the most demonic organization in the Empire, was originally the vanguard of humanity.

No wonder the Imperial Inquisition had never been able to fully eradicate them.

Their roots were deeper than the Empire itself. A starved leviathan was still larger than a shark.

Before anyone could process the historical revelation, the entire subterranean palace forcefully heaved.

A catastrophic tremor shook the tomb, threatening to bring the ancient ceiling crashing down upon them.