593: Chapter 593 Be My Pet

Above the Void Realm, the atmosphere was stagnant as if frozen.

Just as everyone's minds were seized by the silent terror of the abyssal palace, and in the brief moment while they were each plotting—

A terrifying Aura that made one's Soul tremble and marrow chill came crushing down without warning from the end of the firmament, from this deepest darkness!

It did not descend slowly, nor did it unfurl gradually.

It was a crushing!

Like the Heavenly Dao crushing ants, like a millstone grinding grain, this Aura was heavy, majestic, and violent, carrying a thick, nauseating, sweet, and bloody scent that had almost condensed into substance—

The blood and grievances of billions of living beings were boiled and evaporated at this moment, mixed into the Aura, pouring down head-on, seeking to soak every inch of the Void Realm and pollute every wisp of Divine Thought!

"Hum—!"

The dozen or so figures present, all possessing terrifying Auras, shuddered in unison.

It was not a voluntary action, but an instinctive reaction of the body—just like a Mortal's heart being suddenly gripped by an invisible hand, causing blood to flow backward and breath to stagnate.

The figure shrouded in brilliant divine light saw their surrounding light ripple violently, as if it were about to be shattered by this bloody Aura the very next moment!

The wild existence with a beast's head and human body let out a low, offended roar from its throat, but within this roar, there was a trace of... apprehension that even it did not want to admit.

That shifting shadow contracted violently, becoming more solid and gloomy, as if trying to prevent its "body" from being eroded by this Aura.

Someone's pupils suddenly shrank to pinpoints, staring fixedly at the source of the Aura.

Someone subconsciously, almost instinctively, took half a step back—half a step!

This group of existences standing at the pinnacle of the pyramid had actually been forced back half a step by someone's Aura!

A barely perceptible ripple spread through the Void Realm beneath their feet, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, yet it struck everyone's heart.

Two more existences with slightly weaker cultivation, around Peak Nascent Soul, saw their faces turn pale as paper in a flash, their protective spiritual light flickering wildly, as if their minds were about to be crushed by this bloody Aura the next moment.

The corner of one person's mouth even seeped a trace of blood!

With just an Aura, they had injured someone!

"This is... the Aura of the Blood Race!"

A Demon Race cultivator, shrouded in eerie green fire and ghostly, chilling energy, spoke with a strained voice; even the green fire flickered unsteadily due to his intense emotional fluctuations.

Green light flickered in his eyes, revealing a trace of deep, unconcealable apprehension, and even... fear.

Blood Race!

These two words were like two cold, heavy hammers striking the heart of everyone present.

This was an absolute overlord-level race that roamed the Myriad Heavens and Worlds, their fierce reputation enough to stop children from crying at night!

They did not cultivate the Five Elements, nor did they comprehend Yin and Yang; they relied solely on blood as their source, took slaughter as their Dao, and achieved their own power by plundering the life essence of all living beings.

Every pure-blooded Blood Race member was a nightmare-like existence within the same Realm—bizarre, swift, with terrifyingly tenacious vitality, and possessing all sorts of impossible-to-guard-against Blood Dao Divine Abilities.

The internal hierarchy of the Blood Race was strict, and competition was cruel; those who could stand out were all fierce demons who had walked over mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

And this Aura that had descended at this moment—

Mid-stage Spirit Transformation!

The cultivation of the experts present was uneven, but apart from a few whose Auras were particularly obscure and difficult to discern, most hovered between Peak Nascent Soul and Early Stage Soul Transformation.

Mid-stage Spirit Transformation!

At the level of Soul Transformation, every small step forward meant a deeper understanding of the Laws of Heaven and Earth and a more essential mastery of one's own power; the gap in strength was often calculated in multiples!

At this moment, this sudden, unmasked Mid-stage Spirit Transformation Aura was like a giant rock thrown into a pond already teeming with undercurrents—instantly breaking the delicate balance and restraint; not a single person dared to say they could contend with it head-on!

"Crack—!"

The Void Realm above everyone, like a piece of brocade torn by invisible sharp claws, suddenly split open into a scarlet fissure a hundred zhang long, with viscous blood-colored light constantly dripping from its edges!

This fissure was like the grinning maw of a giant beast, with endless crimson and darkness inside.

The blood-colored light, so viscous it was almost liquid, poured down like a burst dam from the Nine Heavens, dyeing the already gloomy Void Realm in a heart-palpitating shade of blood.

The thick, bloody scent instantly overwhelmed everything, as if transforming this place into a Shura slaughterhouse that had just ended.

A slender, upright figure, carrying an Aura that was a contradiction of endless bloodiness and elegance, stepped out along the pouring blood light, as if walking on a scarlet carpet laid out specifically for him, step by step, unhurriedly.

Appearing at the center of everyone's vision.

In the Void Realm above everyone's heads.

This was a young man who looked to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old.

His face was handsome to the point of being bizarre—every line seemed to have been carved with the most demanding precision, combining into a highly aggressive, feminine, and sharp perfection.

It was not a face that belonged in the Mortal world; it was more like a forbidden creation meticulously outlined by some ancient evil god using blood as ink and bones as a pen.

His long, dark red hair, the color of dried blood or solidified sunset clouds, was as smooth as satin, hanging down to his waist, swaying slightly without wind.

With every sway, it seemed as if tiny droplets of blood were dripping from the tips of his hair.

His skin was that sickly, pale color of someone who had not seen the sun for a long time, almost transparent.

One could even faintly see the dark blue, spiderweb-like network of tiny veins beneath his skin—this added a touch of inhuman eeriness to him, making him look less like a living person and more like a walking, killing statue awakened by a blood sacrifice.

He was dressed in a well-tailored, dark gold robe made of a material that was neither silk nor leather, flowing with a cold, metallic luster.

The hem and cuffs were embroidered with complex, ancient, and eerily beautiful blood-colored patterns using some strange dark red thread—

These patterns seemed to possess life, slowly writhing and breathing, as if they might break free from the robe at any moment and transform into blood-colored vipers to devour people.

With every step he took, where his feet touched the Void Realm, a basin-sized lotus flower, formed entirely of pure blood energy, would silently bloom—

Blood Lotus!

The lotus petals were enchanting, layered, eerie, and magnificent, then quietly vanished after he left.

Every step gave birth to a lotus, yet every step carried the Concept of death and plunder.

This was not a Divine Ability, nor a Spell; it was simply that the Qi and blood within his body were too thick and too pure; a wisp of leaked Aura was enough to condense the void into reality and turn blood into a lotus!

However, what was most Soul-seizing and made one dare not look directly at him were his eyes.

These were a pair of pure blood pupils.

The whites of his eyes were not pure white but covered in dense, spiderweb-like bright red blood vessels, as if the eyeballs might seep blood at any moment.

And the pupils were a bottomless dark red, like two blood beads soaked and solidified in the deepest part of a ten-thousand-year blood pool—gloomy, evil, as if a sea of blood were churning within them, with mountains of corpses piled up, and endless phantoms of wailing and slaughter flowing through.

Anyone who met those blood pupils could feel a pure Killing Intent that chilled the Soul and made one shudder.

This was not a Killing Intent of rage, nor of hatred—but a Killing Intent of indifference that was as natural as breathing and as deep as instinct.

Just as humans do not harbor Killing Intent toward the ants they crush, his Killing Intent was the natural, matter-of-course indifference of a superior toward ants.

This person was none other than the most notoriously fierce talent of the younger generation of the Blood Race, hailed as a Prodigy not seen in ten thousand years—

Blood Butcher!

His Mid-stage Spirit Transformation cultivation was now unreserved, like a sleeping Vicious Beast fully awakened, erupting with earth-shattering ferocity.

This Aura was no longer a simple presence, but had transformed into an invisible yet tangible giant hammer, carrying the bloody illusions of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, striking fiercely at the heart and Divine Soul of everyone present!

"Puff—!"

A burly man of the Yao Race in tiger form, at the Early Stage of Soul Transformation, bore the brunt of it.

His muscles were knotted, his wild Aura surging, and his tiger eyes were wide open, attempting to resist—but with only a muffled grunt, his sturdy body shook violently, a wave of air exploded in the Void Realm beneath his feet, and he was forced back three steps by this pure Aura!

Three steps!

His face flushed red, his tiger eyes filled with shock, humiliation, and a trace of uncontrollable fear and unwillingness.

With just an Aura, it had made him, who was also at the Soul Transformation Realm but only one small stage lower, so disheveled!

"Blood Butcher... it is the Blood Butcher of the Blood Race!"

In the crowd, a figure shrouded in gray mist spoke with a trembling voice, filled with unconcealable terror, seemingly very knowledgeable about the newcomer, "The contemporary walker of the 'Blood Prison' lineage of the Blood Race!"

Known as the most terrifying Genius of the Blood Race in ten thousand years!

It is rumored that by the age of one hundred, he had already stepped into the Mid-stage Spirit Transformation, with a Killing Intent that shook the heavens. Once, in order to cultivate a Divine Ability, he single-handedly slaughtered three medium-sized Sects that each had a Soul Transformation expert stationed—leaving not even a chicken or dog alive, with a sea of blood surging to the heavens!"

A hundred-year-old Mid-stage Spirit Transformation!

Slaughtering three Sects with Soul Transformation experts stationed!

Not even a chicken or dog left alive!

Every word was like a heavy hammer, smashing the minds of those who still harbored a shred of Luck, leaving them shaken.

Blood Butcher hovered at the highest point of the Void Realm, the hem of his crimson robes fluttering lightly, blood lotuses blooming and withering beneath his feet.

He raised his head slightly, and with an absolute, natural posture, looked down upon everyone below.

This gaze was calm and waveless, without deliberate arrogance, yet it was more chilling than any haughtiness—this was a true monarch patrolling the ants in his territory, cold, indifferent, viewing all things as straw dogs, as blood food.

Everyone his blood-colored gaze slowly swept over, no matter how unruly or terrifying their Aura was before, now felt a chill shoot up from their tailbones, racing up their spines directly to the crown of their heads—it felt as if their Divine Soul was about to be frozen by the mountain of corpses and sea of blood contained within that gaze.

There was not even Killing Intent in this gaze.

Because Killing Intent is an emotion only for "opponents worthy of vigilance."

And in his eyes, there were no opponents.

Only items.

Or... food.

Until—his slowly scanning, viscous and cold blood-colored pupils, which felt like substance, landed on Luo Xiaojiu.

Amidst the surrounding figures, some radiant with divine light, some savage and fierce, some mysterious and unpredictable, with Auras as vast as mountains and deep abysses, her petite, even somewhat thin figure appeared so abrupt, so out of place.

This bright and warm orange loli outfit, in this Void Realm dyed red by the abyss darkness and the Aura of Blood Butcher, was like the only flickering, weak flame in the wilderness of an endless cold night.

Fragile.

Yet, because of this extreme contrast, it appeared... inexplicably glaring.

Blood Butcher's gaze stopped.

His blood-colored pupils contracted slightly, almost imperceptibly, then slowly dilated—like a venomous snake adjusting its focus before striking, or a hungry beast locking onto its prey.

Deep within his pupils, the young girl's figure was reflected with absolute clarity: this face that still carried a hint of baby fat, fair and pretty, innocent and unrefined.

These round, crystal-clear eyes that seemed to reflect all the filth of the world yet remained untainted by dust themselves.

And beneath this seemingly delicate body, there was an Aura faintly flowing—a kind he had never tasted before, indescribable and indefinable, yet it made his tongue instinctively secrete saliva, and caused his long-dormant, most primitive predatory instinct of the Blood Race to begin to violently stir.

It was not the fragrance of cultivation—a mere Late Stage Nascent Soul, in his Mid-stage Spirit Transformation perception, was nothing more than a cup of light tea.

It was something deeper, more essential, closer to the "Origin."

It was as if a Spiritual Root growing in the place where Chaos first opened, untainted by any pollution, containing the purest, most primordial sweetness of life and the charm of the Dao.

This hidden power made the blood in his body heat up slightly, made his sharp canine teeth itch faintly, making him feel as if he had smelled the irresistible, alluring fragrance emitted by the ultimate delicacy in the world.

Very delicious.

This was the most direct, most primitive, and most unquestionable thought in the depths of Blood Butcher's consciousness.

As a Prodigy of the Blood Race with a nearly paranoid pursuit of the quality of blood food, he had tasted the essence blood of geniuses from countless races—Human Race, Yao Race, Spirit Race, Demon Race... even some rare ancient exotic species.

But the scent emitted by the young girl before him, in his long and bloody hunting career, could definitely be called top-tier.

Even... unique.

Blood Butcher's pale, bloodless lips slowly, bit by bit, curled upward.

This was not a happy smile, but a cold and playful arc revealed when discovering a novel toy, a top-tier prey, or a peerless delicacy destined to belong to him.

Elegant.

Yet cruel.

Cruel enough to chill one's heart.

He raised his hand.

The fingers were slender, the joints distinct, the nails neatly trimmed, yet they exuded a jade-like, cold paleness.

This was a pair of hands that seemed finely carved, yet in reality, had been stained with endless blood—at this moment, it was slowly rising, like a pale flower of death blooming in the Void Realm.

He just like that, with this hand, pointed from afar at that orange, petite figure.

The movement was casual, composed, carrying an unquestionable sense of locking on.

Just like pointing a finger at the most desirable dish on a dinner plate.

"You."

His voice sounded.

It was not loud, even carrying a kind of laziness and nonchalance like someone who had just woken up, as if he were merely ordering a servant to hand over a glass of blood wine.

However, this extremely simple word was like a cold steel needle, suddenly piercing the stagnant atmosphere of the Void Realm—tightening everyone's heartstrings to the extreme!

"Swish—!"

Over a dozen gazes, some astonished, some pitiful, some mocking, some indifferent, all simultaneously, as if pulled by invisible threads, followed the direction of Blood Butcher's pale finger and focused on Luo Xiaojiu.

The heavy, deathly silence that originally shrouded the Void Realm under Blood Butcher's Aura now added a few more layers of eerie, suffocating tension.

Some eyes revealed sympathy for the soon-to-die creature—though faint, though fleeting.

Some corners of mouths curled into an unmasked, schadenfreude-filled cold arc—in this world of survival of the fittest, watching others have bad Luck was, in itself, a form of entertainment.

More people simply looked away entirely, or cast their gazes back to the abyss palace—the indifference of "none of my business" seemed to say: In this world of naked survival of the fittest where power is respected, being named directly by the Blood Race's number one Prodigy, the notoriously fierce Blood Butcher, meant the outcome was already determined, leaving not even a ripple behind.

Just a little girl at the Late Stage Nascent Soul.

In front of the Mid-stage Spirit Transformation Blood Butcher, she couldn't even be counted as an ant.

Her fate, at the very moment Blood Butcher spoke, had already been written—become Blood Butcher's human pet, or die.

No, death was a luxury.

Given the Blood Race's style of conduct, death was actually the most merciful outcome.

Luo Xiaojiu, who was at the very center of this storm of gazes, seemed to realize only then, sluggishly, that the target of this cold finger and voice was herself.

She tilted her head slightly.

A few strands of unbound black hair slid across her fair cheeks, and her eyes, clear as autumn lake water, blinked—there was no fear, no panic, no anger, not even nervousness inside.

Only a few touches of pure innocence and... confusion.

"Calling me?"

Her voice was crisp, carrying the soft, glutinous tone peculiar to a young girl, appearing exceptionally abrupt in this Void Realm filled with Killing Intent and blood.

And exceptionally "inappropriate."

It was as if Blood Butcher's Aura, which was enough to crush a Nascent Soul's true spirit and make even Soul Transformation experts change color, was to her nothing more than a breeze blowing against her face.

She even yawned.

No, she didn't yawn—but her nonchalant appearance, looking like she had just been woken up from a nap, made one's blood pressure soar even more than a yawn would.

"Heh..."

Blood Butcher let out a very faint cold laugh from the depths of his throat.

This laughter had not the slightest temperature, but instead was like a crack suddenly appearing in the eternal ice of the polar regions, the coldness seeping through it capable of penetrating bone marrow and freezing the Soul.

The playfulness in his blood-colored pupils grew even stronger, like a cat examining a canary that had stumbled into its claws, still ignorant and unaware.

"Late Stage Nascent Soul, to be able to walk here, to break into this 'Burial Abyss' place, can be considered having some meager fortune, good Luck."

His voice remained very light, unhurried, as if commenting on the quality of an item.

Every word carried the unique, viscous, and cold elegance of the Blood Race, yet every word was like an ice awl, striking at the listener's heart.

"This Saint is in a decent mood today, so I will grant you a favor—"

He paused, a ghostly light flowing in his blood-colored pupils.

This gaze seemed to have already pierced through the young girl's clothes and skin, savoring the alluring Origin Aura within her body.

"Become this Saint's human pet."