Chapter 619: The Corruption that Erodes History

Around the shadowy, illusory rag doll, faint glimmers burst from the void—unbright, indistinct, colorless, as if composed of countless illusory things.

These lights drift slowly around, forming patches that appear delicate yet impart an extreme heaviness, a mottled light veil that drives Balanka back from the spirit realm.

A deep crimson moonlight gathers and ripples, quickly reshaping Aoer's figure; he thrusts out both hands, conjuring from nothing a vague, illusory gate etched with numerous mysterious symbols.

From the other side of the gate a chilling wind blows, as if able to freeze spirits, hastening life toward death.

In the whimpering cold wind, slick tentacles bearing dead‑fish eyes protrude from behind the gate, coiling from all directions around Balanka's massive rag‑doll body as if to violently tear it apart.

The tentacles extending from the Summoning Gate tighten around Balanka while the single dead‑fish‑eyed orb reflects Balanka's huge rag‑doll silhouette.

Balanka's body gradually stiffens; its dull skin turns increasingly pale and decayed, sprouting patches of corpse‑stain that ooze faint yellow corpse‑oil, making it ever more like a long‑dead corpse, its vitality withering swiftly as if crossing the river of death inch by inch.

The eyes on those tentacles bulge outward, with fine bright‑red vessels clearly visible, as if they could burst or peel off at any moment.

They bear the contamination and curse of an Ancient Evil and drag the other along the road of death at speed.

Leiketon tilted his head slightly to glance at the Summoning Gate; a deep hue flickered in his eyes. Behind that gate seemed to be the underworld, and those tentacles were likely part of a powerful underworld creature.

As thoughts drifted, he let the extremely heavy mottled light veil press down continuously, pushing the tentacle‑tugged Balanka toward the Summoning Gate.

The deep crimson moonlight, under Aoer's pull, transforms into a series of long spikes bearing strange flashing patterns, piercing Balanka's body at various points, separating spirit from flesh while sealing most of its traits and extraordinary abilities.

In this state, Balanka's life form begins to degenerate uncontrollably; cracks appear one after another across the massive rag‑doll body, and the mysterious patterns and entwined aberrant vines etched on it grow increasingly blurred and twisted, as if its mythic creature form could collapse at any moment.

This is the Creator's Power of Creation, which not only fosters growth and the arrival of new life, but can also gradually return an already formed being to its primal state, back to nature.

Within the spirit realm, the Divine Scion Si'e'a broke free from Ge Lan's entanglement; its skin dull, its features compressed into a grotesque rag‑doll, its hands suddenly elongated, reaching out of the spirit realm.

As Si'e'a's arm extended, the surrounding spiritual energy boiled and thickened, forming layer upon layer of barriers that tried to bind Leiketon and Aoer in place, restricting their movements.

Meanwhile, the surrounding void continuously exuded black, sticky, aberrant liquid, from which all manner of bizarre shapes sprouted, rapidly spreading an atmosphere of extreme evil and madness.

The mottled light veil dimmed instantly, as if subjected to an indescribable erosion, cracking dry inch by inch.

The mottled light veil, assembled from fragments of civilization, was easily corroded, causing Leiketon to pause in brief astonishment; he quickly recalled the final line of Si'e'a's honorific name.

Is this the Corruption that Erodes History? It represents the most abominable, highly corrosive aspect of the curse.

As thoughts drifted, Leiketon reached into the void and pulled out an ancient‑styled spear, its tip to hilt ablaze with clusters of dark crimson flame.

The spear traced a dark‑red rift through the air, deeply piercing Si'e'a's right hand that extended from the spirit realm.

On Si'e'a's right hand, which oozed black, sticky fluid, a blood‑colored flame instantly flared, igniting its spirit and melting its flesh.

On the other side, Aoer's body became ethereal, tinged with pale red, turning into a vague moonlight.

The moonlight shattered instantly, turning into shards of red scales that dissipated on the spot and rapidly reassembled around Balanka.

On his right fingernail, crimson moonlight swirled, coalescing into an extra segment bearing mysterious symbols and patterns, easily piercing Balanka's body and extracting from its chest a deep‑red crystal sphere.

The crystal sphere's surface is etched with numerous ancient mysterious patterns; from different angles different arcs are visible, resembling Crimson Moons of various eras.

In the next instant, an arm oozing black, sticky, extremely aberrant liquid seized both him and the on‑the‑brink‑of‑collapse Balanka.

Aoer's body quickly thinned, like a paper figure formed from crimson moonlight, which under the curse's infection turned instantly black and cracked, shattering into dark‑red flecks of light.

Aoer's body then stood out beside Leiketon; his gaze calmly fixed on the arm that had drawn Balanka back into the spirit realm, and he asked lightly, "You don't seem intent on killing Balanka?"

"No need. The Rose School has no psychologists and is not adept at treating mental issues. An angel whose mind is troubled might, at times, play an unexpected role."

Leiketon slowly shook his head, his tone very calm, a deep violet flash passing through his eyes; he could already glimpse a certain future from Balanka.

Aoer looked deeply at Leiketon, sighing, "Who was that dragon that lingered in the spirit world before? Its aura is ancient, feels familiar, as if an old friend."

"Aierihuo Ge."

While answering, Leiketon slightly shifted his gaze, sizing up the blood‑noble duke who also survived from the Second Era, curious about his reaction to the name.

Aoer was momentarily stunned, as if drawn into a distant memory, then after a moment let out a light sigh and said:

"So it is Him. I know that ancient dragon; He is one of the three remaining ancient dragons."

"Unlike the blood‑nobles, the dragons, due to the Ancient Sun God's reclamation of authority and the emergence of the demonic elixir system, have almost vanished from the river of history, leaving only a few old beings clinging in the depths of the spirit world."

Leiketon nodded, then uttered an ambiguous remark, "Perhaps dragons will appear again in the future."

As the words faded, his body instantly became ethereal, breaking into numerous tangled pure data streams that surged into the spirit realm.

Watching Leiketon depart, Aoer examined the deep‑red crystal sphere in his hand, a flash of delight crossing his eyes before turning puzzled, "I didn't expect Him to become active; this doesn't quite fit the spirit dragon's nature, does it?"

"What hidden secrets might the recent divine descent event conceal, given that the True Creator's honorific now includes the description 'Ruler of the Spirit World'?"

Muttering softly for a moment, Aoer extended his right hand forward, conjuring a vague illusory gate etched with numerous mysterious symbols—the Summoning Gate.

Thanks to the Summoning Gate's ability to link the material world and the spirit realm, it can, to some extent, serve as a traveler's portal.

Deep within the spirit realm, specks of starlight fluttered rapidly, scattering patches of pale blue star‑glow around.

Amid the star‑glow, black smoke continuously seeped from Ge Lan's body, as if formed by countless tiny insects, emitting a filthy, aberrant aura; as the starlight expanded and writhed, it gradually assimilated and dissolved the smoke.

Only when no more smoke emanated did Ge Lan exhale, causing the surrounding floating starlight to collapse.

Her complexion slightly pale, she looked toward the figure of Leiketon appearing nearby, her tone tinged with displeasure:

"That Divine Scion's condition is off; even though the 'Hybrid' path's regeneration is strong, the arm severed by Sasilier's 'Soul‑Flesh Blade' shouldn't have healed so quickly—that's a deficiency at the soul level."

"And how did He arrive so fast, still managing to curse me while breaking through the blockade?"

While speaking, she removed a silver‑white glove with a metallic sheen from her right hand and placed it into a black cloth bag hanging at her waist.

Leiketon pondered and said:

"He is the divine child of the Bound God; isn't it abnormal for him to be able to borrow the Bound God's power to some extent?"

"I don't see any trace of him borrowing power."

Ge Lan slowly shook her head, rejecting Leiketon's speculation, paused for two seconds, then added, "But I saw some madness on Him, heard some delirium; that's why I'm so easily cursed. That madness and delirium are peculiar, cold‑cruel madness, giving me a sort of ambiguous feeling when confronting a demon."

"Demon?" Leiketon murmured softly, his eyes deepening as if countless pieces of information were swirling.

A moment later, he chuckled aloud, "Perhaps the Mother Tree felt pressure and reinforced His most useful offspring."

"You mean He acquired the Demon's traits?"

Ge Lan looked at Leiketon, a flash of surprise in her eyes; even though 'Demon' and 'Hybrid' belong to adjacent paths, taking on extra traits remains a considerable burden for an angel.

The next day, in the western district of Beckrand, inside the Odra family's villa.

Aimu Lin arrived by summons; the big figure of the blood clan had already come to Beikelande and specifically named several young blood‑clan members, himself included, to meet.

He swept his gaze quickly over the few blood‑clan members in the sitting room, summarizing the observations in his mind—a habit he cultivated at the Tarot Society.

The lowest rank of blood‑clan members in this sitting room was still a baron; he also belonged to the newly risen blood clan. Those a bit older, like me, had become viscounts. We are all the elite of the young generation of the blood clan, and I am the most outstanding among them, the one favored by the Progenitor! (End of chapter)