Demon Emperor’s Plunder

The next day, Shen Li abandoned his usual fishing routine. Instead, he set out early at dawn, determined to unlock more secrets of the mysterious cauldron. He wandered through the damp marshlands and mudflats of Shen Island, eyes scanning for the tiniest creatures. His objective was clear: collect a variety of weak, unassuming bugs—creatures so unremarkable that even if they evolved under the cauldron's influence, they wouldn't overwhelm him with unforeseen might.

Armed with a small, makeshift container, Shen Li carefully plucked worms and other minor insects from the muck. Each creature was scrutinized before he added it to his collection; his modern mind, tempered by his transmigrator instincts, cautioned him against even a hint of latent power. "Better the meek than the monstrous," he muttered, aware that even twenty such bugs might be the limit of what his fragile control could handle.

Back in his room, Shen Li approached the colossal cauldron with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. The cauldron's head, which had once opened like a gaping maw, now awaited further experimentation. Methodically, he began introducing his collected bugs into its cavernous opening. One after another, the insignificant creatures disappeared into the darkness, swallowed by the ever-shifting engravings that danced along the metal surface.

He experimented with numbers, first with five, then ten—and finally, gathering every ounce of courage, he loaded twenty small bugs into the cauldron. The cauldron seemed unfazed by the quantity; there was no apparent upper limit. Yet, as each bug entered, Shen Li could almost sense their tiny essences merging with the chaotic power inside.

Moments later, the engravings began to stir. Like miniature battles reenacted upon an ancient battlefield, the images on the cauldron's surface shifted: bugs clashed, devoured one another, and in a dramatic cycle of death and rebirth, only a few survivors emerged. But as each creature re-emerged from the cauldron, they were not tame, obedient minions. Instead, every bug—no matter how insignificant—seemed to assert its independence, wriggling free with a ferocity that belied their size.

When Shen Li attempted to capture a few of the emerging bugs for further study, they reacted violently. They bit, nipped, and clawed at his arms, leaving his skin streaked with red welts and puncture marks. Yet even as pain flared through his limbs, a determined glimmer shone in his eyes.

As hours passed, Shen Li began to notice patterns in the chaos. The cycle of synthesis inside the cauldron followed a sort of hidden law: the weaker bugs were systematically devoured by their slightly stronger counterparts, until a lone survivor—transformed by absorbing the essence of the fallen—emerged, enlarged and potent. 

After finishing today's experiment, Shen Li sat down and opened his worn leather journal. His calloused fingers traced the lines of his notes as he pondered the lessons learned from the cauldron. In a quiet, measured tone, he recorded his thoughts:

"It seems that when the same species is thrown into the cauldron, they simulate their own bloodlines—almost as if they are reawakening their ancestral potential. The transformation is remarkable: the weaker, identical creatures merge their essences and emerge much stronger, as if returning to the pure state of their forebears.

"However, there's a second, more troublesome phenomenon. Today, I observed a worm on the ground—an oddity with over a hundred legs and five heads. This, I suspect, is what I'll call a 'second ability mutation.' In this case, the cauldron appears to incorporate traits from different species, bestowing new abilities upon the creature. The worm's symmetry was far from its original form; it had acquired features foreign to its nature.

"This hybridization suggests that while the cauldron can grant extraordinary powers by merging different species, it comes at a cost. The new form, despite its additional abilities, seems to lose a significant portion of its fighting power. The balance of physical strength is compromised by the chaotic mixture of traits.

"Therefore, if I am to harness these transformations, I must be cautious. To acquire the desirable abilities of other bugs, I need to limit the number of different species introduced into the cauldron. Otherwise, I risk creating a complex, unstable life form—one that may have novel attributes but lacks the necessary combat strength for survival.

After finishing his experiments for the day, Shen Li retired early, intent on preparing for tomorrow's bloodline awakening. As he lay in his modest quarters, his eyes fixed on the empty ceiling, he allowed his thoughts to wander in the quiet darkness. In a measured, introspective tone he mused,

"Even if my natural aptitude for cultivation proves limited, I am confident that I can amass far more resources" With that resolve echoing in his mind, Shen Li drifted into a restless sleep.

The next day, Shen Li left the familiar confines of the port and journeyed toward the center of the island—a stark contrast to the modest, weather-beaten docks of his village. Here, the atmosphere was altogether different: the streets were clean and well-ordered, and the area was firmly secured by patrol teams. The guards moved with an almost palpable, battle-hardened aura, their high-quality armor gleaming in the sunlight—a reminder that these men had seen countless conflicts.

At the heart of the center stood a towering fortress, built long ago when the Shen family was at its zenith. Constructed on a rugged mountain, the fortress overlooked the island, and from its summit, thick red smoke spiraled into the sky.

Shen Li approached one of the armored guards at the entrance, carefully retrieving a sealed letter from his satchel. With a determined yet measured tone, he handed the letter to the guard. The soldier barely glanced at it before tossing the envelope into a nearby bonfire. His curt words cut through the quiet hum of the fort's activity:"Go to the center hall. You will see the group. Wait there with them."

Obediently, Shen Li followed the directive, his footsteps echoing on the stone pathways as he ascended into the fortress.

As he stepped into the great hall, Shen Li couldn't help but marvel at the intricate carvings on the ancient walls and the solemn atmosphere that permeated the room. It was clear that, despite the current hardships and the dilapidated state of the outside world, the foresight of his ancestors had ensured that a bastion of survival remained.

Shen Li entered the main hall and found nine young individuals already gathered—familiar faces from the Shen family, acquaintances he'd known all his life. With a casual gesture, he offered a friendly greeting. No one acknowledged his signal, but he simply shrugged it off. In this place, such silent receptions were nothing out of the ordinary.

As Shen Li entered the main hall, he noted the cool, detached expressions of his nine acquaintances—a typical scene among the Shen. In this family, kinship was no sanctuary; from a very young age, every member was indoctrinated into the grim realities of their lineage. The Shen were notorious, not for righteousness, but for a devilish pragmatism where trust was a liability.

In the Shen clan, friendship was scarce. Instead, blood relatives were often seen as mere reservoirs of cultivation potential, their innate power exploited for personal gain. Even the elder council, aware of this internal strife, had enforced strict rules and regulations to curb the rampant misuse of kin. Yet, despite these measures, unexplained cases of betrayal and resource siphoning still surfaced—mysteries that even the most seasoned elders struggled to resolve.

In the Shen clan, the bonds of family are coldly severed at birth. Every child is immediately separated from their kin—a brutal measure born of necessity. Within their ruthless cultivation system, potent techniques exist that could easily turn blood relatives against one another, and any hint of familial affection is seen as a dangerous liability.

Around noon, the main hall filled with the quiet steps of seventeen young participants. They had gathered for the Blood Awakening Ceremony—a rite that would forever alter the course of their lives.

Before long, an aged figure emerged—a hunchbacked elder wielding a gnarled staff. His face, weathered and undeniably ugly, was softened by a warm, almost kindly smile as he strode forward to greet them. His deep, resonant voice filled the hall:

"Welcome to the Blood Awakening. From this moment, the next part of your lives will be decided. Some of you will rise to protect the clan, while others will continue to preserve our way of life."

As he spoke, the elder's gaze swept across the assembled youth with a critical intensity. His eyes halted when they landed on a girl among them—a striking figure with long black hair and piercing blue eyes, dressed in a half-exposing outfit. A flicker of disdain played across her features.

The elder continued, his tone unyielding: "Each of you carries the Shen bloodline in your veins. You are all aware that even though you share our heritage, the quality of that blood varies. Today's awakening is likely the only chance you will have to truly develop and awaken your bloodlines."

A murmur of understanding—or perhaps resignation—swept through the group. Yet one voice broke the tense silence. Shen Li, his curiosity and apprehension mingling, stepped forward. "Excuse me, Elder," he began hesitantly, "but could you speak on the origin of the Shen family bloodline?"

The question, though daring, was not entirely unexpected. Shen Li had long been troubled by whispers and uncertainties—did they all truly share a noble, unblemished bloodline? Or was the revered "Shen Bloodline" merely a facade, masking a darker truth such as the so-called Blood Fiend lineage

Elder Mo's face tightened with irritation, yet he inclined his head in acknowledgement. "The Shen family bloodline has evolved over the years," he explained slowly, his voice gruff yet deliberate. "Through strict, selective marriages—only with those of true strength—we have strived to preserve our bloodline's consistency. In doing so, we have, over generations, forged a new lineage—a lineage that, while it bears the name of Shen, is not without its flaws and its hidden depths."

Elder Mo's gaze swept over the assembled youths, his tone taking on an air of nostalgic pride mixed with cold pragmatism. "Especially after the birth of the Dark Emperor," he intoned, his voice resonating through the hall, "we can say that our family reached its peak in bloodline quality." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before murmuring, almost to himself, "At least we have managed to preserve our lineage for over 1300 years. Sure, the quality may have faltered due to political marriages, but remember—gold is gold, even when covered in dust. Particularly over the last seven decades, we have carefully cultivated the next generation."

The blue-eyed girl—whose gaze had caught the Elder's extra attention—raised her hand with a cool, measured tone. "Elder, is there any way to increase our bloodline levels after awakening?"

Elder Mo's smile deepened, though his eyes remained inscrutable. "There are a few methods, indeed," he replied slowly. "One involves certain rare plants—herbs that, when consumed, can simulate and temporarily elevate your bloodline. However, these plants are extraordinarily scarce; they are so potent that even the local fauna devour them before they can fully mature."

A murmur rippled among the group, and Elder Mo continued, "The second method is far more controversial. There exist pills—crafted from human tissues—that contain concentrated essence of our Shen bloodline. These pills can enhance your lineage, sometimes even simulating the bloodlines of other creatures. It is a method fraught with risks and ethical dilemmas, which is why their use is highly regulated."

Before anyone could respond, one of the heavier-set participants—whose displeasure was as palpable as his bulk—snorted derisively. "Who decided we should turn our family members into pills?" he grumbled, his tone laced with bitter incredulity. "Are we to be reduced to ingredients in some alchemical concoction?"

Elder Mo's gaze narrowed as he turned to the heavy-set participant, his tone suddenly laced with icy authority. "There are cases," he began slowly, "when a member is found guilty of betraying the clan—informing on our current base or leaving hidden messages for outsiders—we condemn them without hesitation. And if we discover that you've been entangled in murder, we may even decide to make you... human pill."

A heavy silence fell as his words hung in the air. The fat man shifted uncomfortably, but before he could muster a response, Elder Mo's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. He paused, then continued with grim finality, "And if you somehow fail to accomplish your mission, we can administer a human pill. Now, don't misunderstand—I don't resort to human pills after a single failure. But if these transgressions persist, we cannot allow unsuccessful individuals to drag our rank down. Instead, we refine them to enhance the quality of the Shen family."

The blue-eyed woman, her voice still steady despite the tension in the hall, pressed on with her inquiry. "Elder Mo, is there an upper limit with the human pill? Isn't there a peak bloodline level among us that this method could help achieve?"

Elder Mo's eyes darkened as he considered her question before replying in a measured tone, "No, the human pill can only help to a certain point—it is not as effective as you might think. First, the individual must already possess a higher bloodline quality. You cannot expect to increase your bloodline quality if you remain at the same level; you need talent of one level higher. For example, if you have a level 5 bloodline quality, you must possess at least a level 6 grade of bloodline talent to have any chance of elevating your rank."

He paused, letting his words sink in, then continued, "Even if you do take the pill, it only affords you roughly a 33% chance to raise your rank. And if you are able to acquire higher-grade talent, then your chances may improve. But as it stands, within our clan, the highest quality we currently speak of is level 6. You cannot simply ingest a low-grade pill and expect an increase in bloodline quantity to translate into an increase in quality."