The Nihility Chef

Alexi felt a sense of unease the moment he saw that bastard's smug look. Something was wrong. His gut twisted as he stormed to collect his prize. With impatience burning in his veins, he shoved over 10,001 Mid-tier Aura stones, his hands trembling as he relinquished his entire fortune. No matter how useful the spell could be, it was not worth this obscene amount. A pit of dread settled in his stomach.

As he held the scroll in his hands, his body betrayed him. His fingers quivered, his grip loosening as if the parchment itself repulsed him. The moment his eyes scanned the text, his face contorted in pure rage. He had been played. That mocking expression on the Tengu-masked bastard's face replayed in his mind. He had never even wanted the spell—he only wanted Alexi to throw away his wealth.

The technique was a cruel joke. While it did allow the user to tap into the world's metal aura before transcendence, it came at an irreversible cost—permanently exhausting one's affinity with the metal element. No sane cultivator would ever use it. The realization hit Alexi like a hammer to the chest. He had wasted everything.

Fury overtook reason. His blood boiled, his mind blanked, and without another thought, he erupted from his seat, storming back into the main hall. His massive frame launched toward Samael in a reckless charge, his killing intent tangible in the air.

But Samael had anticipated this. With a mere flick of his wrist, a ray of death aura shot forth. The energy, ominous and absolute, swallowed Alexi whole. His body convulsed for a brief moment before collapsing into a lifeless heap, the last vestiges of his defiance vanishing in an instant.

'What a fool. Did he truly believe I would spare him if we fought again?' Samael scoffed internally, disgusted by the half-titan's arrogance.

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the auction house. This was no common brawl—this was an execution. Fighting in the Midas Pavilion was unheard of, yet here lay a corpse, slain before the highest of society. The guards moved, their steps quick and coordinated, but Samael was unfazed. With practiced ease, he revealed a token—a mark of the Forte Family.

"That man was an enemy of my house. His death was deserved," he stated nonchalantly, his voice carrying an authority that left no room for dispute.

The audience quickly realized this was beyond their jurisdiction. The guards hesitated, then stood down. With the matter seemingly settled, Samael turned his attention back to the corpse.

Kneeling, he plucked the space ring from Alexi's rigid fingers, shattering its spiritual lock with a mere thought. Inside, his eyes skimmed over a pile of mundane items before settling on two objects that sent a shiver through his core.

One was the spell from the auction, now worthless to him. The other—a small, unassuming orb—was mesmerizing. Within its translucent depths, a galaxy seemed to swirl. Stars ignited and perished in an endless cycle, comets streaked across the abyss, and celestial energy pulsed from its core.

Samael felt a sudden tug from his bracelet. Gluttony yearned for the orb, an insatiable hunger radiating from it. 'What the hell is my bloodline? I thought it would take years to find an Aether material, yet here it is, practically delivered to me on a silver platter. This is some Deus ex Machina shit.'

He stored the orb away, saving it for later. As he idly flipped through the metal spell scroll, he couldn't help but muse over his unnatural luck. How did he instinctively know the technique was useless to him? Was this a hidden function of his bloodline? If so, how far could it evolve?

'I need to find a method to refine my bloodline further. Maybe I can push it into something even more broken,' he pondered.

Yet he knew the Forte Family had likely already attempted this and failed. Evolution required extraordinary resources. He would need at least a Heavenly-level herb, and such treasures were exceedingly rare. 'No more Deus ex Machina. This is Luck ex Machina.'

The auction continued, each item surpassing the last in grandeur. An Immortal-realm whip, a dragon egg—a true rarity, given that dragons themselves worked within the Midas Pavilion. Samael had been tempted to bid on the egg, but Alice had stopped him, knowing all too well that he would try to cook it.

Then, the final item was unveiled.

A set of cracked, broken Mala beads and a half-destroyed Tetsubō. They bore the scars of time, their deep crimson hues faded with age. Yet despite their damage, an undeniable heat radiated from them, distorting the air around them like an invisible flame. The black studs on the Tetsubō carried an ominous, violent aura, yet at the same time exuded an inexplicable sense of protection. The Mala beads, in contrast, pulsed with holiness—the golden Sanskrit inscriptions on them flickering like embers of divine fire.

Whispers spread through the crowd. This was no ordinary relic.

Lucile, her voice dripping with allure, stepped forward. "This treasure, once at its peak, surpassed Emperor-grade artifacts. It was recovered from an ancient battlefield, its power too volatile for even Immortal-level cultivators to wield. As such, it has been placed for auction."

"The starting bid is 15,000 Mid-tier stones, with a minimum increment of 50 stones per bid."

A frenzy ensued. 15,000. 16,000. 17,000. The numbers climbed rapidly.

"50,000 Mid-tier stones," Samael finally declared, his voice cutting through the commotion.

Silence. The entire auction hall stilled. No one dared compete against the Forte Family, especially after witnessing Alexi's demise. Many cast uneasy glances at the half-titan's corpse, the fear still fresh in their minds.

Then, a voice—calm, yet brimming with unshakable confidence—shattered the quiet.

"100,000 Aura Stones."

Heads turned, eyes widening in disbelief. The curtains of another VIP box were drawn, revealing a figure who commanded instant attention.

A man, no taller than 1.75 meters, stepped forward. His jade-like skin was flawless, his every movement like a gentle spring breeze—calm yet irresistible. His features were delicate yet striking; thin lips, a narrow nose, long eyelashes framing almond eyes that radiated an almost ethereal beauty. He wore white and red Kasaya robes, the garments of a Buddhist monk.

But his eyes—deep red, burning with an unquenchable fire—exuded something else entirely.

A chilling, endless rage.

Info of the Day - Bloodlines & Physiques

Almost every living being today carries a bloodline, inherited from their ancient ancestors. Even the most common humans possess the diluted remnants of the ancient human bloodline. Stronger bloodlines are passed through families, their potency maintained and enhanced through rare treasures.

Bloodlines can evolve or mutate under specific circumstances. However, not all mutations are beneficial—some can be outright disastrous.

Physiques, on the other hand, are bestowed randomly by the heavens. No one can predict when or where a new physique will appear. While some are legendary, others are outright curses, such as the Cracked Pool Body, which causes the user to perpetually leak aura, rendering cultivation nearly impossible.

The stronger the physique, the greater the challenge of mastering it. The heavens give, but they also take.