Chapter 8: Sacrifice

Lu Ming let out a sigh, following the winding steps upward as he began his ascent. At the summit stood the palace housing the Dragon God's altar, and every time he came to make an offering, a sense of dread gripped him.

For some inexplicable reason, here one could only walk step by arduous step; even a small jump was nearly impossible, with gravity tens of times stronger than that of Earth. Each climb up the mountain left him, despite his formidable dragon physique, utterly exhausted.

Step by step, his feet grew heavier until, after more than three hours of grueling effort, Lu Ming finally reached the entrance of the Dragon God’s altar, drained of all strength.

He pushed through the two immense doors, each thirty meters high, and entered. He felt as tiny as an ant stepping into an elephant’s mansion.

Gazing at the vast, self-illuminated hall, seemingly endless, Lu Ming once again marveled at the insignificance of humanity.

He raised the jade sword in both hands and uttered several phrases in the dragon tongue.

In an instant, an overwhelming force descended from the heavens, filling the entire altar hall. The jade sword rose from his hands, floated upward, and then disintegrated into its most primitive energy, vanishing without a trace.

Soon, a haze of golden light coalesced in the air, forming a transparent hourglass filled with golden, sand-like grains, which hovered beside Lu Ming.

He knew this was the divine favor earned through his offering—divine favor that could be exchanged for anything he desired.

At the same time, a golden scroll-like screen appeared before him, filled with countless options.

He glanced through them; the first major category was "Life Items."

From repeated sacrifices, Lu Ming had learned that the options appearing were always closely aligned with his desires—the Dragon God seemed to read one’s heart. Sometimes, the thought unsettled him.

He opened the Life Items category, where hundreds of items of various sizes appeared for his perusal.

“Forbidden Fruit: Increases lifespan by five years when consumed.”

“Elixir of Rejuvenation: Delays aging.”

“White Tiger’s Heart: Enhances constitution, extends life; duration random.”

After reviewing dozens of options, none satisfied him. In the end, Lu Ming chose something else.

“Water of the Source: Removes all negative states from the body and extends life; duration random.”

Cancer, he reasoned, should count as a negative state, so this should work—and with the added benefit of longevity, even if the duration was random. If luck was on their side, the Yun family would profit greatly.

He tapped lightly on the Water of the Source. A small, white, translucent bottle—its material unknown—floated out and hovered beside him.

At that moment, the golden grains in the hourglass began to pour out rapidly, two-thirds vanishing in an instant, making Lu Ming’s heart ache.

“Damn it, not much profit this time either,” he muttered, and began selecting from what remained.

Just then, the golden screen twisted, the items reshuffled and rearranged. The first category now was Physical Enhancement, and many items that had appeared earlier were gone.

Lu Ming understood: the dwindling divine favor had limited his choices. Only what he could afford now was displayed.

He shook his head and thought, “This old dragon really does see straight through one’s heart.”

As he browsed through the remaining items, Lu Ming found himself complaining inwardly about the old dragon. Not that he was especially bold—he had simply noticed that the Dragon God demanded neither reverence nor faith, only offerings. Everything else was met with indifference—a remarkable tolerance.

Still, he dared not voice his complaints aloud. If the old dragon were in a bad mood, it would be more trouble than he could handle.

Moments later, something intriguing caught his eye.

“Inscribed Construct.”

“Set One: Boiling Blood—significantly boosts physical vitality and strength.”

“Set Two: Easy Strike—greatly increases agility.”

“Set Three: Warlord—boosts morale and explosive power.”

“Set Four: Life Guardian—increases vitality.”

“Set Five: Dark Assault—reduces enemy attack power.”

“Set Six: Heart of the Earth—increases defense.”

“Set Seven: Wild Counterattack—increases allied attack power.”

“Full Set Bonus: Critical Strike—ignores defense, with a fifty percent chance to kill the enemy instantly.”

“Whoa—seriously? There’s something like this?” Lu Ming couldn’t help but gasp in shock.

Every one of these constructs would be irresistible to any martial artist, for their attributes were purely additional. If two martial artists of similar strength faced off, and one possessed even a single construct, their power would be elevated to an entirely different level—virtually unbeatable.

And if the full set were assembled, even an ordinary expert could challenge a martial grandmaster. It was simply overwhelming.

Most crucially, these constructs could be applied to anyone—simply brand the Inscribed Construct onto the corresponding body part to gain the attribute.

Lu Ming was delighted. He didn’t need such things himself—at least, not for now—but there were plenty of others who did. Selling them would surely fetch a handsome price.

At the moment, he was desperately poor. Years of mercenary work had made him a fortune, but after the Dragon War, he gave it all away—to his subordinates and to the families of fallen comrades—leaving little for himself.

He was in urgent need of money. Waiting for others to bring him opportunities was much too slow. With cash in hand, he could purchase treasures directly, thereby accelerating his own cultivation.

With this in mind, Lu Ming tapped the option without hesitation.

A beast-hide construct inscribed with “Boiling Blood” floated out and hovered beside him.

The divine favor in the golden hourglass dwindled again, leaving only a trace.

Lu Ming shook his head and prepared to leave. With so little divine favor left, there was nothing else he could redeem.

Just as he was about to go, the screen flickered and then brightened again.

A fiery red gemstone ring appeared, solitary on the display.

“Fountain of Youth: Greatly prolongs duration of sexual activity.”

“Seriously? This old dragon has everything under the sun,” Lu Ming blurted out.

No wonder, with such bizarre items available, this Dragon God seemed lacking in solemnity, almost perverse.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he sensed it was inappropriate and clamped his hand over his lips.

After a long, cautious pause, seeing nothing amiss, he relaxed.

So it was true—the Dragon God cared only for the offerings; everything else was of no consequence.

Seeing that nothing had happened, Lu Ming tapped the ring.

It floated out and hovered beside him, and his divine favor was completely consumed—not a drop remained.

“Damn, the old codger really is cunning, squeezing every last drop out of me,” Lu Ming muttered, realizing that the old dragon never left one with anything to spare after a sacrifice.

With a sigh, he stowed his offerings and prepared to leave.

Suddenly, a vast and ancient voice echoed, as if carried through the currents of endless time:

“Young one, in light of your exceptional discernment, I grant you the title ‘Favored of the Divine’ and offer you a word of warning: you must hasten your offerings and strengthen your body. You must understand—having consumed a dragon, your current rate of physical growth is insufficient to withstand the awakening of the dragon bloodline. When that time comes, both your body and soul will be destroyed by the power of the dragons.”

“What?” Lu Ming’s heart lurched in terror.

“What does this mean?” he shouted.

But at that moment, all the power in the great hall receded like the tide, and his question was met with only silence.

“Damn it,” Lu Ming cursed, realizing the matter was far more complicated than he’d thought.

“Have I been tricked?” he wondered aloud, suspecting that ever since he’d eaten that dragon, he’d been ensnared by the old dragon’s schemes.

But it was too late for regret. Clearly, he would have to step up his sacrifices. He dared not doubt the dragon’s warning—it was a matter of life and death.

Muttering a few phrases in the dragon tongue, Lu Ming returned to his own room.

There, looking at the items he’d received and recalling the old dragon’s final words, Lu Ming felt a headache coming on.