After Mo Fan successfully entered the altar, the ragged-robed figure sitting at the outer altar of the cave vanished instantly, as if he had never been there at all. Mo Fan didn't bother with it and continued his unsteady steps down the narrow path between the slippery rocks. From the outside, the small cave didn't seem deep, but once inside, the descending path felt like it was swallowing him further into the bowels of the earth.
"Ow, my foot... Damn! Why does this cave feel like a hole straight to hell?!" Mo Fan cursed as he dragged his body past the sharp rocks.
Just a few meters in, his eyes caught the same black-robed figure from earlier, sitting cross-legged on a flat rock right in the center of the cave's first chamber. A man with a long, tattered dark robe.
Mo Fan froze.
"Uh... is that a person? Or a statue? Or... a GHOST?!" he whispered, holding his breath.
Despite his trembling body, Mo Fan forced himself to approach the figure. He swallowed hard.
Atop the flat stone, only a skeleton in a black robe remained. Sitting in the same cross-legged position. Still. Unmoving. The bones looked like they had been there for decades—maybe even centuries.
Mo Fan's jaw dropped. "WHAT?! So that was just a living pile of bones?!"
He rolled his eyes, then spoke with an annoyed tone, "Brother Skeleton, if you're a ghost, don't just disappear like that! You're violating my inner peace rights!"
He poked the skeleton with a twig he picked up from the cave floor.
CRACK! The skeleton's hand bone broke off and fell.
"WAAAHH!! SORRY BRO! I DIDN'T MEAN TO! PLEASE DON'T CURSE ME!" Mo Fan quickly leapt back a few steps, muttering nervously.
After nothing happened for a while, he cautiously approached again. Behind the skeleton was another, narrower tunnel that sloped sharply down and was pitch black.
"Oh come on... another tunnel?! I thought this was the end!" He stomped his foot in frustration. "Damn it! Do I have to go all the way to the earth's core just for an inheritance?!"
He sighed deeply, then continued in.
"I really hope this isn't Hell's entrance version two..."
The tunnel grew narrower. Mo Fan panted heavily. His legs nearly went numb. The walls were damp, and the air was getting suffocating.
"Seriously... is this an inheritance or a haunted house challenge? Even TV ghost hunters would quit if they saw this..." he muttered while walking.
Rocks began to fall from the ceiling. Cracks slowly spread. The cave felt like it could collapse at any moment.
Suddenly...
"This inheritance... has waited... for you... a very long time..." The voice was deep. Heavy. Echoing straight into the bone.
DUMMPPP!
Mo Fan froze. His eyes widened.
"Who the hell was that?! I didn't call for anyone! Don't go scaring people uninvited!" Mo Fan shouted, half afraid.
"Ha... ha... ha... ha....."
The voice laughed. Not with joy—but with something terrifying. As if it were the laughter of thousands of dead souls.
"You... who bring destruction... and hope..." the voice continued, its tone dark and ominous.
Mo Fan raised a hand. "HEY! I just want to live peacefully, eat well, and sleep soundly! I didn't sign up to be anyone's hope! I'm not a damn superhero!"
He walked forward slowly. At the end of the tunnel, a chamber opened up. Floating at the center... was a single drop of thick, blackish blood. The liquid pulsed gently but emitted an aura of pure horror.
The air suddenly turned heavy. Mo Fan's breath caught. That drop of blood seemed to drain all energy around it.
"D-damn... what... is this pressure..." Mo Fan collapsed, his knees slamming into the stone floor. "Just one drop of blood but it feels like I got headbutted by a semi-truck! Sh*t!"
ZRRRRRRRHHHH...
The air trembled. The cave walls groaned.
"Am I supposed to touch this?! Or... is it gonna absorb me?! If that's the case, no way! I'm still a virgin!"
His hand trembled as he reached closer. Stones began falling from above. Cracks slithered across the walls.
"Okay... I don't know if this is an inheritance or a death trap, but if I die again, I'm dragging the scriptwriter down with me!"
With reckless courage, Mo Fan touched the drop of blood.
SWOOOOSH!!
The blood shot into his body like a savage serpent.
"AAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHHHHHHH!!!"
Mo Fan's body slammed against the ground. His eyes bulged. His veins pulsed blue. The pain felt like a thousand blades stabbing from within.
"I'm... dying again... I swear I'm dying again... is there really... no... cheattttttt?!" he screamed inwardly.
His shriek echoed through the cave. The sound of cracking stones grew louder. Mo Fan writhed, convulsing. And then—
CRACK!
He passed out.
...
Hours later, Mo Fan's eyes fluttered open. The first thing he heard was a strange voice in his mind.
"Heh... your body actually survived. Interesting." said someone inside Mo Fan's head.
Mo Fan's eyes widened. "Who now?! Am I some haunted vessel now?!"
"I am the owner of the blood you absorbed. My soul has long remained here, waiting... for a true heir."
Mo Fan paused, then asked, "Uh, what's your name?"
"WHAT...? You dare call me 'you'?! DISGUSTING! That is a divine-level insult! Address me as... LORD DEMON GOD!"
Mo Fan shivered. "S-sorry Lord Demon God... reflex... I didn't mean any disrespect...
"You insolent fool... If my body were still intact, I'd have split your tongue in two! But... I do admire that pathetic will to live of yours."
Mo Fan forced a nervous smile. "Hehe... pathetic survival is my specialty, Lord Demon God."
"Listen well. The blood you absorbed belongs to the Heaven Devouring Demon Dragon. You now possess the Heaven Devouring Demon Dragon spiritual root—a rare and forbidden kind."
"Forbidden? That sounds dangerous. Wait... are there levels of spiritual roots, Lord Demon God?" Mo Fan asked curiously.
"BY THE HEAVENS, YOU'RE AN IDIOT! YOUR BRAIN'S MADE OF SLIME!" Demon God roared.
Mo Fan winced. "Please don't yell, Lord! My ears aren't explosion-proof!"
"Fine! Listen and memorize, you village worm!"
"The levels of spiritual roots are:
Trash Root,
Common Root,
Good Root,
Superior Root,
Heavenly Root,
Divine Root,
Chaos Root,
Forbidden Root – the one you now possess."
"The Forbidden Root appears only once every ten thousand eras. It can absorb, destroy, and dominate all forms of energy in the universe. But if you're too weak, it will consume you alive."
Cold sweat dripped from Mo Fan's forehead. "Why does this feel like I got chosen as hell's janitor..."
"Relax. I will guide you. But first, the basic technique. It's called 'Devourer.' When you touch your opponent's body, this technique absorbs their energy directly into yours. Pure. Ruthless. Merciless."
"Holy sh*t... absorb people alive?! That's brutal... I love it!" Mo Fan grinned.
"Hmph. At least you have good taste. Now, it's time to refine the dragon blood inside you. Focus! Dominate that blood, or die a disgrace."
Mo Fan sat cross-legged. The savage aura of the dragon blood surged inside him, trying to blow his organs apart.
"ARGHHH!!"
He trembled. Bit his lip. Eyes turned red. Every second felt like being sliced by hellish daggers.
"Suppress... force it... control it! You are the master of this blood now!"
Whooooshhh! Whooooshhh!
The dragon blood swirled like a storm. Slowly, Mo Fan's will pressed down, subdued it, and purified it. The process was long. Agonizing.
TING!
A faint light emerged from Mo Fan's body. A calm aura spread. His body stopped writhing. His breath stabilized.
"Phew..." Mo Fan exhaled in relief.
"You have reached Qi Refining Level 1. A pathetic start, but better than a corpse," mocked the Demon God.
"Hehehe... that's fine... at least I can start cultivating!" Mo Fan panted. "Lord Demon God... can I ask for... an offensive technique too? I mean, I can't just suck people like a leech forever!"
"Hahaha... fine. I shall teach you a Low Superior Level attack technique called 'Black Slaughter Claw.' It's the only one your current cultivation can handle," said the Demon God.
Mo Fan nodded. "That's more than enough."