Chapter 7 The Blood Of The True Demon, The Dharma Appearance Of The Water God

• Tan Xuan stepped into the Hall of Inherited Arcana, his sandals echoing on obsidian floors inlaid with mother-of-pearl runes. The chamber's vaulted ceiling vanished into shadow, while walls pulsed with ancient script—each stroke seemed to writhe like silver eels beneath his gaze. At the hall's core, the Bagua Divinatory Chart lay embedded in a jade dais, its trigram patterns glowing with the milky hue of moonlit water.
• As he settled into the lotus posture, the dais beneath him warmed like a sun-baked stone. Sudden tremors rippled through the floor, causing runes to explode in chains of emerald fire. The hall dissolved into a cosmic abyss—not mere starlight, but a roiling nebula where constellations formed and unformed like breathing entities. Among them, the phantoms of primal deities materialized: a tiger-headed warrior wielding a flaming trident, a nine-tailed fox trailing phosphorescent mist, and at their zenith, a serpentine figure coiled around a celestial pillar.
• A beam of stardust-laden light speared downward, its touch like liquid mercury on Tan Xuan's skin. With each "Ding!" withered his mortal form, replaced by a translucent avatar within the starscape. Spiritual Orifices flared like distant supernovae—six, seven... then the seventh ignited with the force of a collapsing star.
• Tan Xuan's ribcage convulsed as if struck by a sledgehammer. His heart thundered in triple time, each beat sending arcs of sanguine demonic energy skittering across his collarbones. The air around him caramelized into tendrils of congealed blood, twisting his hair into dreadlocks that dripped scarlet dew.
• From his sternum erupted a droplet of obsidian-red blood—not liquid, but a pulsing gem inscribed with infernal script. As it ascended, the droplet unraveled into chains that formed a floating codex, each page wailing with the voices of damned souls. Simultaneously, his astral form lit up in a cascade of orifices—365, 400, 450—until his body became a constellation in its own right. When the last orifice flared, the blood droplet imploded into his heart, leaving his hair as raven-black as a moonless night.
• The astral image detonated in a shower of sapphire sparks, revealing a naga-form Dharmic Embodiment that blotted out the stars. Its serpentine body coiled through nebulae, human face contorted in a primal scream, while beneath it raged a river of liquid darkness—each wavecrest bore the skulls of drowned gods. The embodiment's roar wasn't sound, but a frequency that made the hall's runes bleed gold; Luo Shui Sect disciples miles away clutched their ears, noses streaming blood.
• Nine waterfalls tore from the peaks as if yanked by invisible hands, forming an ocean above the hall where sharks of pure water energy leaped. Steam rose in columns, each ringed by rainbow halos. "It's Gong Gong!"shrieked Elder Zhang, his scrying orb cracking under the pressure."The primal water deity who shattered the Buzhou Mountain!"
• But the embodiment's eyes suddenly dimmed. Cracks spiderwebbed across its scales, each fissure leaking golden ichor. In a burst of diamond light, it fragmented into an Azure Dragon—smaller, but with scales that shimmered like rain-washed jade. "The Water God's orifices require a godly vessel," Elder Zhang panted, clutching his trembling staff. "His mortal frame rejected the primal form."
• As the Azure Dragon coiled within a sphere of aqua-essence, its every movement rippled through the hall like a pebble in a pond. Xu Zhen's hands shook as he gripped the railing—never in his five centuries had he seen an embodiment pulse with such celestial rhythm. "Top-tier upper-grade..." murmured the sect master, his goatee trembling. "The last to achieve this was... the first patriarch."
• Below, disciples gawked as the dragon opened its maw, spewing a torrent of runes into Tan Xuan's body. Some collapsed in worship, others fled in terror, but most stood transfixed by the sight of destiny unfolding. Xu Zhen threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing off the watery dome—only he noticed the fleeting shadow of a black banner in Tan Xuan's aura, a detail he tucked away like a precious scroll.
• Inside the water sphere, Tan Xuan's skin glowed with veiny patterns that mirrored the Azure Dragon's scales. He felt the primal water-essence not as liquid, but as a memory—of a time when oceans boiled and gods warred. Then came the revelation: the True Demon Progeny Blood wasn't a curse, but a key. He recalled the ancient corpse's blood-red eyes, the black banner's runes that had seared his soul—and understood he was no mere ascendant, but a vessel for something older than the Xuanyuan World itself.
• As the water sphere dissolved, Tan Xuan opened his eyes to find the hall restored, save for a single azure scale resting in his palm. Outside, the nine waterfalls had returned to their peaks, but the air still hummed with the aftershock of divinity. Elder Zhang approached, eyes bright with both fear and greed. "What did you see in there, boy?" he whispered, but Tan Xuan only closed his fist around the scale, the taste of blood and starlight still on his tongue.